Wooshteen Kanaxtulaneegí Haa At Wuskóowu Sharing Our Knowledge conferences bring together Tlingit tradition bearers and academics By Joaqlin Estus (Tlingit and English-Irish)
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hen I was in Juneau in September 2019 for the Sharing Our Knowledge conference, several people, including a few non-Natives, in casual conversation referred to other individuals by their Tlingit name. Over the years I’d seen this a few times before but now it seems to be a growing trend. This is new. Decades ago, when elders who spoke Tlingit as their first language were more plentiful, I don’t recall them using Tlingit names when talking with someone who didn’t speak Tlingit. The people using them now are my age and younger. And like me, they didn’t grow up speaking Tlingit. They’re learning it by taking classes, either online or at the University of Alaska. And some are learning it well enough to converse and give talks in Tlingit.
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A L A S K A H U M A N I T I E S F O R U M W I NTE R 2020
The language classes are relatively new too. My grandmother and her generation grew up speaking Tlingit. My mother’s generation, people born in the 1920s and 30s, were mocked, shamed, and punished for speaking Tlingit. They were told that speaking Tlingit to their children would handicap the child’s ability to speak English fluently. So they didn’t pass on the language. For the most part, my generation, baby boomers, learned only a few words and phrases. Some learned Tlingit language songs in a dance group. That use generally didn’t transfer to speaking Tlingit. Kudos to the elders, the Tlingit speakers who persevered in using their language, often in formal settings such as ku.éex’ (aka potlatches), but also in casual conversation. They taught people how to in-
During Eagle Night in May 1993, Richard Jackson, left, pays tribute to Andy Hope III, standing in a Button Blanket, for his work in organizing the conference.
