Oral history Eastport students, Passamaquoddy use new methods to preserve ancient language

Like many 17-year-old high school students in Maine, Kylie Neptune is studying a language other than English. But the language she is learning in class, unlike those studied by most other students, is 10,000 years old. It is the language of her ancestors – Passamaquoddy.

At 8 a.m. Monday through Thursday, Neptune makes her way to the band room at Eastport’s Shead High School – a large, assembly-type expanse with a tiny stage. A drum sits in the corner. A shocking pink, electric guitar is on a nearby table.

Kylie sits in a circle with other students – most are Indian, two are not.

Their teacher is Margaret “Dolly” Dana, who learned her language, like her mother and grandmother, through oral tradition. Dana, a language specialist, is working with other tribal members to write her language down on paper, or actually, a computer. For the past 35 years, tribal members have been working on creating a dictionary at the nearby Pleasant Point Reservation.

David Francis, who will be 90 years old in January, is the Passamaquoddy word master. Dana works with him.

“He taught himself. He and some other elders … went to MIT in Boston, and they worked with a linguist there who helped them with this alphabet. He started learning the alphabet and the vowel sounds, and he has recorded so much of our history,” she said. “I’m just thankful I was given the chance to work under him and to learn under him.”

Principal Terry Lux introduced the unique language class. She has a sizable population of Passamaquoddy students – 48 out of 133.

Lux asked Dana to teach the class. She said she believes it’s the first of its kind in the state.

“This has been beyond my expectations,” Lux said of the class. “I think 12 kids in the first class is a pretty good turnout.”

On occasion, Lux sits in on the class, which she said has an aura about it.

“It’s almost like a sacred class,” she said. “I went in and sat down for a few minutes, and I ended up looking at the clock and the period was almost over.”

When Lux first asked her to teach, Dana hesitated. Was it something she wanted to do?

She thought long and hard and realized if she didn’t, the language might be lost to the young.

“It’s a beautiful language,” Dana said quietly. “Why should we not preserve it? Why not fight and keep it? Because in the language is everything we are. Our culture is in the language. Our history is in the language.”

But there was another conflict going on inside of her – she would be teaching non-American Indians as well.

“Why would non-native students want to learn our language anyway?” she asked herself. “Then it hit me one day. That’s what I have to do. How else are they going to understand?”

But it’s a daunting language.

There are no books. Lessons are printed on sheets of paper and handed out at the beginning of the class.

Students study and practice saying the words out loud. One letter gives off one sound, two letters – a blend, as Dana calls them – present a different sound.

“Why can’t I see?” Dana asks the class. “Kosonoa Mehsi skat nomihutu?” They repeat.

“Why did you do that?” she asks. “Keq mehsi nit olluhkiyin?”

The kids giggle as they mispronounce words. They also help each other.

“I am really interested in the language. That’s why I took it,” Neptune said. “It’s very important to carry my language on.”

Alfred Trott, 17, who is not an American Indian, said he enjoyed the class. “I am interested in learning about Native American culture and the language,” he said.