1.
THE
UNIVERSITY
OF
CHICAGO
Social
and
Historical
Factors
in
Indigenous
Language
Revitalization:
Colonial
legacies,
expertise,
and
the
Wôpanâak
Language
Reclamation
Project
By
Paul
Otto
June
2015
A
paper
submitted
in
partial
fulfillment
of
the
requirements
for
the
Master
of
Arts
degree
in
the
Master
of
Arts
Program
in
the
Social
Sciences
Faculty
Advisor:
Michael
Silverstein
Preceptor:
Elina
Hartikainen

2. Abstract:
The
Wôpanâak
Language
Reclamation
Project,
a
contemporary
indigenous
language
revitalization
movement
in
North
America,
allows
us
to
see
how
historical,
ideological,
and
political
factors
influence
the
direction
of
indigenous
language
revitalization
programs
in
general.
The
position
of
these
projects
as
both
products
of
colonial
legacies
of
indigenous
language
decline
and
as
benefactors
the
linguistic
documentation
efforts
conducted
by
institutions
implicated
in
colonialist
processes
allow
movements
like
the
WLRP
to
constitute
productive
sites
for
the
reformulation
of
prevailing
yet
historically
contingent
notions
of
expertise.
The
limited
access
to
the
products
of
academic
research
that
arises
due
to
institutional
policies
and
the
register
phenomena
that
distinguish
scholarly
discourses
complicate
language
revitalization
efforts
and
suggest
that
different
aspects
of
contemporary
language
revitalization
projects
have
conflicting
relationships
to
existing
power
dynamics
and
external
social
processes.
Introduction
The
widespread
growth
of
language
revitalization
in
the
United
States
is
a
relatively
recent
phenomenon;
the
numbers
of
communities,
sponsoring
institutions,
and
individuals
engaged
in
revitalization
projects,
as
well
as
the
prominence
of
their
efforts
in
public
discourse,
have
been
increasing
over
the
past
two
decades
(Hinton
2008:351).
These
projects
have
taken
numerous
forms,
representing
a
panoply
of
motivations,
methods,
and
goals.
However,
one
thing
they
hold
in
common
is
that
most
language
revitalization
projects
involve
coordinated
activity
on
the
part
of
indigenous
language
activists
and
a
group
of
experts
who
are
frequently
not
members
of
the
community
undertaking
the
project.
When
the
issue
of
collaboration
in
language
revitalization
projects
comes
up,
a
commonly
asked
question
is
why
isn't
it
working?
While
this
question
is
important
if
we
want
to
understand
language
revitalization,
it
does
not
represent
the
full
picture—
specifically,
it
is
limited
by
an
assumption
that
indigenous
language
activists
and

3. 3
(commonly
non-­‐indigenous)
academics
and
professionals
who
specialize
in
languages
and
education
will
collaborate
effectively
and
successfully,
and
that
ineffective
or
unsuccessful
collaboration
is
a
deviation
from
that
norm.
However,
this
assumption
overlooks
key
aspects
of
the
relationship,
including
the
role
of
differences
in
language
ideologies
between
and
within
both
groups
of
actors
and
their
contentious
history
of
interaction.
This
history
directly
involves
the
objectives
and
methods
of
the
imperialist
expansionism
of
North
America’s
two
English-­‐speaking
settler
states,
the
United
States
and
Canada,
in
the
founding
and
development
of
the
academic
and
professional
disciplines
currently
most
identified
with
language
revitalization:
linguistics
(both
as
part
of
anthropology
and
as
an
independent
discipline)
and
education.
This
imperial
project
interacts
with
North
American
manifestations
of
nationalism
in
different
ways
at
various
points
in
the
history
of
the
settler
states.
These
different
articulations
can
be
identified
with
various
policies,
such
as
forced
assimilation,
tribal
termination,
and
the
modeling
of
indigenous
group
structures
on
settler
state
polities
(Peery
&
LPSN
2012).
The
experts
involved
in
these
projects—professional
academics
and
educators
who
work
in
linguistics,
anthropology,
and
language
pedagogy—and
the
indigenous
activists
they
work
with
stand
in
a
complex
relationship
with
one
another.
This
is
due
in
part
to
the
history
of
these
groups’
interactions,
which
stretches
back
to
some
of
the
earliest
large-­‐
scale
encounters
between
Europeans
and
indigenous
peoples
in
North
America.
There
are
also
a
number
of
socio-­‐political
factors
that
complicate
this
relationship,
such
as
patterns
of
knowledge
circulation
that
are
particular
to
contemporary
academic
disciplines,
as
well
as
the
local
political
contexts
in
which
revitalization
efforts
take
place.
In
all
of
these
cases,
the
choices
that
actors
make
both
reflect
and
influence
ideologies
of
language.
Differences
in

4. 4
these
ideologies,
both
between
and
within
groups,
contribute
to
the
complexity
of
these
relationships,
which
constitute
a
productive
site
for
the
reformulation
of
prevailing
yet
historically
contingent
notions
of
expertise.
In
this
paper,
I
explore
the
implications
of
these
factors
for
language
revitalization,
using
the
ongoing
Wôpanâak
Language
Reclamation
Project
(WLRP)
in
Massachusetts
as
an
ethnographic
lens
through
which
to
connect
widespread
processes
and
phenomena
to
particular
aspects
of
the
shared
history
of
indigenous
groups
on
the
continent.
The
WLRP,
which
seeks
to
revitalize
(or
‘awaken’1)
the
Wampanoag
language,2
is
an
especially
apt
lens
for
an
analysis
of
this
sort,
as
the
impact
of
history
and
of
particular
present-­‐day
socio-­‐
political
processes
are
evident
in
ways
that
allow
a
clearer
understanding
of
the
operation
of
these
factors
as
a
general
phenomenon.
The
data
on
which
I
draw
for
my
analysis
of
present-­‐day
Wampanoag
revitalization
efforts
combines
information
from
the
WLRP’s
current
website
(WLRP
2015);
autobiographical
material
by
jessie
little
doe
baird3
(2013),
who
has
led
the
contemporary
drive
to
‘reclaim’
the
language
and
won
a
2010
MacArthur
Foundation
‘genius
award’
for
her
efforts;
data
gleaned
from
a
documentary
film
on
those
same
efforts
(Makepeace
2010);
and
a
report
on
preliminary
efforts
to
revitalize
the
language,
written
by
baird
(née
fermino)
in
collaboration
with
her
MIT
advisor
Kenneth
Hale
and
another
author,
Anna
Ash
(Ash
et
al.
2001).
The
goals
of
my
analysis
are
not
limited
to
unpacking
the
Wampanoag
situation
alone,
but
instead
are
oriented
toward
understanding
the
impacts
of
history
and
socio-­‐political
processes
on
language
1
See
the
discussion
of
Daryl
Baldwin’s
terminological
intervention
in
the
section
on
Theoretical
Framework,
below.
2
Also
known
as
Massachusett;
see
the
next
section
below.
3
For
evidence
of
this
as
her
chosen
orthographic
styling,
see
baird
2013
and
Ash
et
al.
2001.

5. 5
revitalization
as
a
widespread
phenomenon,
especially
as
these
effects
manifest
in
the
expert-­‐activist
relationship.
Consequently,
I
supplement
this
data
on
Wampanoag
with
historical
data,
as
well
as
ethnographic
accounts
of
other
revitalization
efforts
in
North
America.4
After
discussing
some
of
the
relevant
literatures
with
which
I
engage
in
the
following
section,
I
then
proceed
to
describe
contemporary
Wampanoag
revitalization
efforts
and
the
historical
context
from
which
they
emerge.
Following
that
discussion,
I
then
explore
the
ways
in
which
historical
developments
(and
their
modern-­‐day
colonial
legacies)
continue
to
impact
language
revitalization
efforts.
I
next
examine
the
ways
that
indigenous
language
revitalization
efforts
enable
activists
to
reformulate
prevalent
conceptions
of
expertise.
Building
on
these
discussions,
I
examine
in
the
final
section
of
analysis
the
influence
of
both
local
and
more
widespread
socio-­‐political
processes
on
contemporary
indigenous
language
revitalization,
attending
especially
to
the
socially
circumscribed
circulation
of
knowledge
and
discourses
and
the
relevance
of
ideologies
of
language.
Theoretical
Framework
Language
revitalization
is
a
phenomenon
that
has
engaged
scholars
working
in
a
number
of
different
theoretical
frameworks.
Some
of
the
scholarly
treatments
of
language
revitalization
have
grown
out
of
the
domain
of
sociolinguistics.
In
particular,
Joshua
Fishman’s
volumes
Reversing
Language
Shift
(1991)
and
Can
Threatened
Languages
be
Saved?
(2001)
are
notable
for
their
attempt
to
understand
language
shift,
or
the
move
(whether
intentional
or
unintentional)
from
use
of
one
particular
language
as
the
dominant
4
See
the
following
section
for
specific
authors’
works
that
function
in
this
regard.

6. 6
means
of
communication
to
another
in
its
place,
as
a
social
process.
Fishman
represents
a
foundational
figure
in
the
field,
which
has
developed
an
independent
literature
of
its
own
only
within
approximately
the
past
two
decades
(Hinton
2008:363).
Due
to
the
close
relationships
that
emerge
in
linguistic
and
anthropological
fieldwork,5
many
American-­‐trained
linguists
and
anthropologists
who
have
done
research
with
North
American
indigenous
communities
in
recent
decades
have
addressed
those
communities’
concerns
with
language
shift
(see
Nevins
2013,
Wetzel
2006,
McCarty
et
al.
2006,
Debenport
2010,
Meek
2010).
Some
of
these
scholars
have
conducted
similar
work
with
indigenous
communities
in
other
parts
of
the
hemisphere
as
well
(e.g.,
French’s
(2010)
study
of
Maya
ethnolinguistic
identity
in
the
highlands
of
Guatemala,
and
Hornberger
&
Swinehart’s
(2012)
study
of
professionalization
among
Andean
teachers
in
an
intercultural
bilingual
education
program).6
As
these
authors’
studies
are
concerned
primarily
with
understanding
the
communities
and
individuals
with
whom
the
authors
work,
where
their
analyses
touch
on
language
shift,
they
focus
on
the
particular
local
understandings
and
forms
of
practice
that
can
be
characterized
as
revitalization.
A
complementary
theoretical
orientation
to
this
situated
approach
can
be
found
in
works
such
as
Hinton
&
Hale’s
(2001)
volume,
The
Green
Book
of
Language
Revitalization
in
Practice,
Grenoble
&
Whaley’s
(2006)
Saving
Languages:
An
Introduction
To
Language
Revitalization,
Patrick
Eisenlohr’s
(2004)
Language
Revitalization
and
New
Technologies,
and
Fishman
1991
&
2001.7
These
works
have
taken
a
more
nomothetic
or
generalizable
5
See
Development
of
the
field,
below.
6
I
incorporate
these
authors’
works
in
response
to
a
call
by
Karl
Swinehart
for
“a
more
hemispheric
approach”
to
understanding
issues
that
affect
indigenous
communities
(personal
communication,
February
4,
2015).
7
Titled
Reversing
Language
Shift
and
Can
Threatened
Languages
be
Saved?,
respectively.

7. 7
approach,
attempting
to
understand
the
factors
and
processes
at
play
in
terms
of
multiple
communities’
and
individuals’
experiences
simultaneously.
Due
to
some
of
the
specific
ways
in
which
the
work
of
revitalizing
languages
is
conducted,8
some
of
the
same
actors
who
produce
scholarship
on
the
subject
are
simultaneously
engaged
in
the
very
practices
they
describe.
This
non-­‐disinterested
orientation
has
coupled
with
the
reflexive
turn
in
the
social
sciences—the
cross-­‐
disciplinary
practice
of
authors’
acknowledgement
of
their
own
positionality—to
produce
a
literature
on
language
revitalization
as
a
moral
and
ethical
imperative
for,
among
others,
documentary
linguists
and
anthropologists
working
with
indigenous
communities
(see
Grenoble
&
Whaley
2006,
Hinton
2010).
Another
product
of
this
situation
is
a
move
to
re-­‐
establish
the
discipline’s
terminological
conventions
as
a
way
of
addressing
the
implicit
conceptual
metaphors
to
which
they
relate.
This
is
the
motivation
behind
the
Myaamia
(Miami-­‐Illinois)
language
activist
and
University
of
Montana-­‐trained
linguist
Daryl
Baldwin’s
reformulation
of
‘dead’
or
‘extinct’
languages
as
‘sleeping,’
which—in
contrast
to
the
“biological
finality”
of
language
extinction—implies
the
opportunity
for
‘awakening,’
in
the
form
of
what
Bernard
Perley
calls
“emergent
vitalities”
(Perley
2012:143-­‐144).
The
concept
of
emergent
vitalities
allows
for
ways
of
understanding
the
changes
in
the
language
that
arise
through
revitalization,
without
characterizing
them
in
potentially
pejorative
terms
(i.e.,
‘incomplete
transmission’).
The
growing
scholarship
on
language
shift
has
identified
two
aspects
of
communication
as
potential
sites
for
change
over
time:
changes
in
the
code
itself—at
the
lexical,
grammatical,
phonological,
or
semantic
level—and
changes
in
the
pragmatics
of
8
See
the
section
on
expertise,
below.

8. 8
language
use
within
the
community
(Meek
2010:46-­‐47).
While
the
principle
that
change
is
the
only
constant
in
language
certainly
applies
to
both
these
aspects,
identifying
them
as
sites
of
language
shift
as
opposed
to
language
change
suggests
that
not
only
do
communicative
norms
within
a
community
experience
variation
within
languages
but
also
between
them.
It
also
suggests
that
there
is
an
intimate
connection
between
the
progression
of
(macro-­‐level)
language
shift
and
the
(micro-­‐level)
day-­‐to-­‐day
communicative
practices
within
a
community
(Meek
2010:47).
This
speaks
to
the
powerful
role
of
“the
everyday
practices
through
which
(often)
novice
interlocutors
acquire,
maintain,
and
alter
their
social
worlds”—language
socialization
(Meek
2010:48).
There
are
a
number
of
factors
that
may
differentiate
the
many
endeavors
that
are
grouped
under
the
label
of
language
revitalization.
Projects
may
be
distinguished
by
their
goals,
motivations,
and
choice
of
methodologies;
their
scale,
funding,
and
organizational
structures;
their
relative
successes
or
failures;
degree
and
kinds
of
participation;
and
myriad
other
criteria.
I
will
concentrate
on
the
first
group
of
these
factors—goals,
motivations,
and
methodologies—while
providing
a
cursory
account
of
the
variation
along
other
criterial
lines
as
well.
Given
this
extensive
variation,
what
places
these
diverse
projects
in
the
same
‘field’
is
the
variety
of
ways
they
are
discursively
linked—through
shared
terminology
and
registers,
and
metapragmatic
framing
as
‘the
same.’
Regarding
the
variation
in
goals
of
language
revitalization
programs,
Hinton
(2010:37)
identifies
“some
possible
ideas
about
what
constitutes
‘success’
in
language
revitalization:
(1)
preserving
the
language
through
documentation,
(2)
literacy,
(3)
new
speakers,
(4)
use
of
the
language,
and
(5)
community
control
of
the
language.”
These
goals

9. 9
require
different
methodological
approaches,
are
motivated
by
different
concerns,
and
give
rise
to
particular
challenges.
Meek’s
(2010)
analysis
of
an
Athabascan
language
revitalization
program
speaks
to
some
of
these
challenges
for
language
revitalization.
Particular
areas
she
cites
as
being
of
concern
for
languages
experiencing
revitalization
have
to
do
generally
with
difficulties
and
breakdowns
in
transmission
of
the
pragmatics
of
languages:
the
indexical
aspects
of
a
language,
which
depend
on
certain
culturally-­‐specific,
shared
assumptions
about
the
world
(‘common
knowledge’)
for
successful
transmission;
likewise
regarding
the
social
meaningfulness
of
interactions,
the
idea
that
particular
aspects
of
an
interaction
(for
example,
the
length
of
pauses
between
one
utterance
and
its
response)
have
a
social
effectiveness
in
that
in-­‐and-­‐by
doing
them
interlocutors
are
doing
something
to
their
relationship
to
each
other
(for
example,
creating
social
distance,
or
enacting
expertise9);
and
finally
the
practical
difficulties
of
revitalizing
the
socially
meaningful
situational
uses
of
language,
especially
in
an
environment
where
English
has
become
the
default
mode
of
expression
(Meek
2010:50).
An
example
taken
from
French
(2010)
will
help
to
concretize
Meek’s
(2010)
theoretical
elaboration.
Among
the
various
initiatives
employed
in
the
efforts
to
revitalize
Kaqchikel
Maya
in
the
Guatemalan
highlands
was
a
method
which
that
movement
shared
with
the
WLRP:
night
classes
for
adults.
Brown
explains,
“for
three
years
about
thirty-­‐five
adults,
mostly
under
forty
years
of
age,
voluntarily
attended
night
classes
once
a
week
for
about
two
months”
(1998:162).
A
decade
later,
local
Kaqchikel-­‐Mayas
who
participated
9
See
Carr
2010,
Enactments
of
Expertise.

10. 10
in
the
class
reflected
upon
the
significance
of
the
project.
One
Comalapense
recalled:
“after
classes,
we
would
leave,
all
of
United
States
speaking
Kaqchikel”
(Brown
1998:164).
…
he
continued,
“and
to
this
day,
we
still
greet
each
other
in
Kaqchikel”
(Brown
1998:164).
[French
2010:128-­‐29]
The
class
briefly
led
participants
to
use
the
language
more
extensively,
and
indeed
this
reflection
seems
to
suggest
a
successful
effort
at
revitalization.
However,
French
believes
that:
[The
man’s]
reflection
reveals
a
more
complicated,
tacitly
ambivalent
ideology
of
language
at
play
among
the
members
of
the
class.
…
While
Brown
uses
this
example
to
celebrate
the
success
of
the
literacy
class
for
Kaqchikel
revitalization
(1998:164),
I
submit
that
participants’
reflections
on
the
class
actually
reveal
the
doxa
of
Spanish
hegemony.
By
this
I
mean
that
Spanish
remained
firmly
intact
as
the
preferred
code
of
use,
even
as
the
literacy
class
participants
continued
to
“greet
each
other
in
Kaqchikel,”
indexically
marking
their
collective
identification
as
Maya.
[French
2010:129]
In
addition
to
attesting
to
the
multiple
possible
interpretations
of
the
criteria
for
success
in
revitalization,
this
example
serves
to
illustrate
the
challenge
of
instilling
real
change
in
speakers’
linguistic
practices,
thereby
directing
language
shift.
Language
ideology
has
proved
to
be
a
productive
theoretical
tool
in
understanding
language
shift
and
revitalization,
and
a
number
of
scholars
have
attempted
to
incorporate
a
language-­‐ideological
approach
into
their
analyses,
in
both
the
ethnographic
and
more
nomothetic
veins
of
language
revitalization
research.
Regarding
the
introduction
of
new

11. 11
communicative
technologies
for
use
by
communities
revitalizing
languages,
Eisenlohr
(2004)
speaks
to
the
significant
role
of
language
ideologies
as
mediating
factors:
…
an
increase
in
teaching
material
or
otherwise
published
discourse
alone
does
not
necessarily
lead
to
language
revitalization
in
the
sense
of
increased
use
of
a
lesser-­‐used
language
in
everyday
contexts
(Fishman
1991,
King
2001).
To
reverse
language
shift,
the
new
avenues
for
publishing
and
circulating
discourse
also
must
be
linked
to
an
ideological
transformation
among
speakers,
inducing
them
to
reestablish
routine
use
of
a
language
…
[Eisenlohr
2004:35]
Different
communities,
responding
to
different
pressures
and
circumstances,
will
of
course
have
different
ways
of
responding
to
this
challenge.
I
argue
that
the
WLRP
has
brought
about
a
shift
in
community
members’
ideological
orientations
to
the
Wampanoag
language
in
part
through
the
appropriation
of
scholarly
practices
of
expertise
enactment
(Carr
2010)
such
as
formal
linguistics
techniques
of
language
study
and
analysis.
The
Wampanoag
Situation
The
Wampanoag
language,
Wôpanâôt8âôk,
known
also
as
Natick,
Massachusee,
and
Massachusett—the
latter
being
the
most
common
name
for
the
language
in
academic
contexts
well
into
the
20th
century—is
an
Algonquian
language
of
the
Southern
New
England
subgroup
of
the
Eastern
Algonquian
family
(baird
2013:19;
WLRP
2015;
Landar
1996:740,
758;
Walker
1996:158;
Goddard
1978:4-­‐5,
72).
In
the
early
years
of
European
contact,
it
was
spoken
along
the
coast
of
present-­‐day
Massachusetts,
from
the
Merrimack
River
north
of
Boston,
stretching
south
to
the
islands
of

12. 12
Martha’s
Vineyard
and
Nantucket,
and
from
Cape
Cod
in
the
east,
stretching
west
to
Narragansett
Bay
and
the
Blackstone
River
in
Rhode
Island,
a
territory
covering
approximately
194
present-­‐day
towns
(Walker
1996:158;
Ash
et
al.
2001:28).
At
that
time,
the
language
was
spoken,
with
dialectal
variation,
by
members
of
the
Massachusett,
Nauset
and
Pokanoket
confederations;
the
latter
group
are
more
recently
known
as
Wampanoags,
although
early
documents
attest
multiple
names
for
this
group
(Salwen
1978:175).
It
is
important
to
note
that
these
are
primarily
political,
and
not
linguistic
or
cultural,
designations;
across
the
region,
the
names
of
most
indigenous
groups
are
place
names
(e.g.,
Massachusett
“appears
to
mean
’at
the
great
hill,’
presumably
in
reference
to
the
Blue
Hills
in
Milton
southwest
of
Massachusetts
Bay”
(Salwen
1978:174)),
which
have
varied
in
their
application.
Thus
when
the
villages
and
communities
that
composed
the
Massachusett
group
realigned
politically
to
“[become]
a
part
of
the
larger
Wampanoag
[or
Pokanoket]
confederation
just
prior
to
the
period
of
King
Philip’s
War,”
the
Massachusett
ceased
to
be
identified
as
a
separate
entity,
and
today
there
are
no
indigenous
groups
that
publicly
identify
as
Massachusett
(Ash
et
al.
2001:28).
As
mentioned
above,
the
name
‘Massachusett’
is
the
prevalent
term
for
the
language
in
academic
contexts.
However,
Ash
et
al.
(2001)
argue
that,
of
the
various
terms
that
have
been
used
for
the
language,
the
most
appropriate
is
‘Wampanoag’:
…
given
the
geographic
provenance
of
the
majority
of
the
native
written
source
material
and
the
fact
that
three
of
the
Wampanoag
communities
which
contributed
to
the
corpus
of
material
are
still
surviving
today
as
Wampanoag
communities
in
Massachusetts:
the
Aquinnah
Wampanoag
Tribe
(Aquinnah,
formerly
Gay
Head,
on
Martha’s
Vineyard),
the
Herring
Pond

13. 13
Wampanoag
Tribe
(Plymouth),
and
the
Mashpee
Wampanoag
Tribe
(Mashpee).
[Ash
et
al.
2001:28]
These
three
communities
today
represent
the
bulk
of
the
Wampanoag
Nation,
an
ethno-­‐
political
unit
that
at
its
greatest
extent
included
approximately
sixty-­‐nine
distinct
groups
spread
across
the
region
(baird
2013:19;
Ash
et
al.
2001:28).
The
history
of
the
Wampanoag
language
is
long—how
long,
we
cannot
be
sure,
since
there
are
no
records
prior
to
the
arrival
of
Europeans
in
North
America.
We
can
be
sure
at
least
that
at
some
point
several
thousand
years
ago,
the
Proto-­‐Algonquian-­‐speaking
peoples
of
North
America
begin
to
diverge
linguistically
into
the
roughly
40
languages
of
the
Algonquian
family
known
today,
of
which
many
are
still
spoken
(Makepeace
2010).
A
few
years
prior
to
the
arrival
of
English
Protestants
at
Plymouth
in
modern-­‐day
Massachusetts,
a
severe
plague
of
yellow
fever—most
likely
introduced
by
European
fishermen
and
traders—swept
through
New
England,
killing
between
70,000
and
100,000
people,
probably
over
two-­‐thirds
of
the
population
of
the
region
at
the
time
(Makepeace
2010).
Into
this
recently
decimated
region
came
English
settlers,
primarily
Christian
Puritans,
for
whom
proselytism
was
an
important
doctrinal
concern.
A
distinguishing
characteristic
of
Protestant
missionary
work
is
the
role
of
the
Bible.
In
the
radical
Protestant
theology
that
dominated
colonial
New
England’s
Euro-­‐American
societies,
a
proper
relationship
to
God
was
formed
directly
and
on
an
individual
basis
through
prayer
and
study
of
the
Bible
in
one’s
own
language;
this
aspect
of
Protestant
missionary
work
is
not
unique
to
17th-­‐century
New
England—indeed,
Keane’s
(2002)
discussion
of
Protestantism
attests
to
the
role
vernacular
Bibles
play
in
Protestant
missionary
efforts
around
the
world
in
current
times.
Because
of
this
fact,
Protestant

14. 14
missionaries
seeking
to
convert
indigenous
populations
in
New
England
learned
their
languages
so
that
they
could
translate
the
Bible
into
them
and
spread
their
religious
teachings.
One
such
missionary
was
John
Eliot,
a
preacher
who
learned
the
Wampanoag
language
through
close
contact.
In
the
colonial
period,
there
was
a
historical
precedent
for
white
settlers
learning
indigenous
languages,
although
this
typically
occurred
only
under
special
circumstances,
such
as
adoption
by
members
of
an
indigenous
group
to
make
up
for
losses
of
loved
ones
due
to
armed
conflict
and
the
slave
trade
(Axtell
1975).
Between
1663
and
1685,
Eliot
produced
a
grammatical
introduction
and
translation
of
the
two
testaments
of
the
Bible
into
Wampanoag
(the
first
Bible
published
in
the
western
hemisphere),
and
“supervised
the
translation
of
many
religious
documents
into
the
language”
(Hinton
2013:19-­‐20;
Ash
et
al.
2001:29;
Makepeace
2010).
The
specific
nature
of
the
missionary
work
in
this
period
has
been
characterized
by
some
Wampanoag
community
members
as
an
all-­‐encompassing,
“convert
or
die”
mentality:
“They
put
in
all
this
psychological
warfare
so
that
anything
associated
with
your
own
culture
is
a
bad
thing
to
do.
And
you
get
the
elders
who
don’t
want
to
teach
the
kids
because
they
don’t
want
them
to
go
through
that
humiliation”
(Makepeace
2010).
Other
documents
in
the
language
produced
in
this
period
by
Wampanoag
individuals—notes
in
personal
Bibles,
correspondence
with
government
officials
(British,
colonial,
or
American,
depending
on
the
date),
original
town
charters,
land
deeds,
and
others—attest
to
this
characterization
of
missionary
practices;
they
also
constitute
“the
largest
corpus
of
native
written
documents
on
the
continent”
(Makepeace
2010;
Ash
et
al.
2001:29-­‐30).

15. 15
After
this
period,
the
Wampanoag
language
declined
in
use
substantially.
From
a
peak
of
69
separate
tribal
groups
covering
a
territory
of
194
present-­‐day
towns,
the
Wampanoag
nation
in
2001
comprised
only
three
communities:
the
Aquinnah,
Herring
Pond,
and
Mashpee
Wampanoag
tribes
(Ash
et
al.
2001:28).
Present-­‐day
Wampanoag
people
identify
multiple
factors
as
leading
to
the
decline
of
the
language,
including
disease,
warfare,
geographic
displacement,
and
Christian
missionary
activity.
The
last
fluent
speaker
of
the
language
before
revitalization
efforts
began
in
the
late
20th
century
most
likely
died
more
than
a
century
ago.
While
these
factors
are
up
for
debate
and
historical
interpretation,
it
is
certain
that
no
one
was
speaking
the
language
with
fluency
for
at
least
100
years;
for
most
of
the
20th
century
and
possibly
before,
“the
few
people
who
[knew]
phrases
and
texts
in
the
language
[learned]
them
from
written
sources
or
[learned]
to
recite
them
from
older
relatives”
(Ash
et
al.
2001:28;
Makepeace
2010).
This
situation
led
to
the
characterization
of
the
Wampanoag
language
as
“extinct”
(Goddard
1996:3,
158),
which
according
to
the
prevailing
“biological”
metaphor
(Perley
2012:143)
is
the
final
chapter
in
a
language’s
history.
However,
the
history
of
the
Wampanoag
language
begins
again
in
1993,
when
a
meeting
of
representatives
from
the
Mashpee
and
Aquinnah
Wampanoag
tribes
began
the
process
that
eventually
resulted
in
the
formation
of
the
Wôpanâak
Language
Reclamation
Project
(WLRP)
(Ash
et
al.
2001:30;
Hinton
2013:21).
Inspired
by
a
series
of
dreams
in
which
she
was
compelled
to
“ask
the
Wampanoag
people
if
they
would
like
to
have
language
home
again”
(Makepeace
2010),
jessie
little
doe
baird
initiated
and
has
led
the
Wampanoag
community’s
language
revitalization
efforts
since
their
inception
in
1993,
accepting
a
research
fellowship
and
completing
a
master’s
degree
in
linguistics
at
MIT
in

16. 16
the
process
(Makepeace
2010).
Using
historical
documents
written
in
Wampanoag
as
source
texts,
baird
developed
a
uniform
orthography,
compiled
and
in
some
instances
reconstructed
the
vocabulary
of
the
language,
and
conducted
phonological,
morphological,
and
syntactic
analyses,
in
order
to
develop
a
workable
grammar
of
the
language—all
while
learning
the
language
herself
in
the
process
(baird
2013:22;
Makepeace
2010;
Ash
et
al.
2001:30).
Among
the
various
specific
projects
it
has
come
to
incorporate,
the
WLRP
has
adopted
a
number
of
techniques
and
technologies
from
other
language
revitalization
movements
and
other
language
learning
contexts.
Since
its
inception,
the
Wampanoag
language
revitalization
movement
has
included
community
language
education
classes
for
adult
language
learners
as
a
core
component
(Makepeace
2010).
This
particular
technology—the
community
adult
learning
group—is
one
of
the
most
widespread
practices
in
language
revitalization
efforts;
indeed,
from
the
perspective
of
actors
involved
in
these
efforts,
this
approach
to
language
education
is
considered
among
the
most
basic
and
traditional
educational
practices
within
the
domain
of
adult
language
learning
generally
(Hinton
2013).
The
WLRP
has
augmented
this
component
of
its
programming
over
the
years
through
the
implementation
of
other
techniques
and
technologies
that
similarly
are
employed
in
other
language
revitalization
contexts,
including
language
immersion
summer
camps,
a
Wampanoag
language
immersion
school,
raising
children
as
native
speakers,
and
“master-­‐apprentice”
language
training—a
one-­‐on-­‐one
instruction
method
that
has
proved
successful
in
many
instances
(WLRP
2015;
Hinton
2013:27-­‐29;
Ash
et
al.
2001:30-­‐32;
Makepeace
2010).
All
four
techniques
emphasize
learning
the
language
through
interaction,
with
differing
levels
of
formalized
instruction—highest
in
immersion
camps

17. 17
due
to
their
short
duration,
and
lowest
in
the
raising
of
children
as
native
speakers,
in
which
children
simply
learn
the
language
through
conversation
with
caretakers.
These
techniques
as
well
are
quite
widespread
in
other
language
revitalization
projects,
although
they
address
a
variety
of
different
language
learning
and
socialization
concerns
among
them.
The
WLRP
currently
conducts
a
range
of
activities
pursuant
to
its
goals,
including
community
language
classes
and
events
(for
all
ages),
children’s
language
immersion
camps,
the
development
of
a
dictionary,
reference
grammar,
and
educational
materials,
and
the
upcoming
establishment
of
a
public,
chartered,
Wampanoag-­‐medium
immersion
school
for
kindergarten
through
third
grade;
broadly
construed,
each
of
these
efforts
fall
into
one
of
two
aspects
of
the
broader
project
of
Wampanoag
language
revitalization—“research
and
materials
development,
and
teaching
the
structure
of
Wampanoag
to
members
of
the
community”
(Ash
et
al.
2001:30-­‐32;
Hinton
2013:27-­‐29;
WLRP
2015;
Makepeace
2010).
The
WLRP
has
taken
an
inclusive
approach
to
language
revitalization;
since
its
inception,
three
additional
groups
have
become
involved
in
the
organization
and
its
efforts:
the
Assonet
band
of
Wampanoag,
the
Herring
Pond
Wampanoag
tribe,
and
the
Chappaquiddick
Wampanoag
(Hinton
2013:21).
Additionally,
the
WLRP
has
in
recent
years
supported
“the
credentialed
training
of
two
Wampanoag
linguists
[and]
over
fifteen
certified
language
teachers”
(WLRP
2015).
While
it
is
not
operational
at
the
moment,
the
WLRP
is
currently
in
the
process
of
setting
up
a
public
charter
school
for
kindergarten
through
third
grade,
the
Wôpanâôt8ây
Pâhshaneekamuq,
with
classes
to
be
taught
entirely
in
the
Wampanoag
language,
which
is
planned
to
open
for
the
autumn
semester
of
2015
(WLRP
2015).
The
establishment
of
this

18. 18
school
will
have
a
double
impact
on
the
sociolinguistic
situation
of
Wampanoag:
it
will
simultaneously
provide
legitimacy
to
the
Wampanoag
language
in
the
eyes
of
multiple
concerned
parties
through
the
institutional
authority
of
a
state-­‐funded
public
school,
and
also
ensure
the
effective
transmission
of
the
language
to
a
generation
of
students
who
will
have
had
varying
levels
of
exposure
prior
to
enrolling
(WLRP
2015).
Keeping
the
WLRP’s
innovative
combinatory
approach
to
language
revitalization
techniques
in
mind,
these
techniques
may
be
understood
as
a
way
to
respond
to
the
challenges
of
transmission
that
Meek
(2010)
identifies
above.
However,
as
the
modern
form
of
the
Wampanoag
language
has
come
into
being
via
writing,
many
of
the
pragmatic
and
prosodic
features
of
the
language
such
as
timing
and
pitch
cannot
be
learned
in
the
same
form
that
they
once
took,
as
these
aspects
are
not
encoded
in
the
Wampanoag
writing
system,
which
uses
an
alphabet
based
on
the
one
Eliot
developed
for
his
religious
translations
(Ash
et
al.
2001;
Makepeace
2010).
There
certainly
were
pragmatic
features
of
this
sort
at
some
point
in
its
history,
but
the
impossibility
of
reproducing
them
in
fact
eases
the
pressure
on
the
community
in
terms
of
how
to
ensure
accurate
transmission,
in
the
sense
that
any
distinguishing
pragmatic
features
of
the
language
that
emerge
in-­‐and-­‐by
its
transmission
in
revitalization
will
be
or
become
the
new,
modern
standard
for
the
language.
In
this
sense,
the
modern
forms
of
these
features
exemplify
Perley’s
(2012)
concept
of
“emergent
vitalities.”
History,
Policy,
and
Colonial
Legacies
Contemporary
practices
of
language
revitalization
are
situated
within
broader
historical,
political,
and
social
discourses.
In
this
section,
I
connect
particular
developments

19. 19
within
the
history
of
indigenous–white
relations
to
present-­‐day
indigenous
language
revitalization
projects,
focusing
on
the
historical
development
of
the
academic
study
of
Native
American
languages
and
on
changes
in
United
States
federal
policies
toward
indigenous
groups.
The
multiple
histories
that
are
at
play
in
language
revitalization
work
reflect
the
facts
of
its
social
and
political
complexity,
historical
particularity,
and
ideological
nature.
I
will
use
the
Wampanoag
situation
as
a
case
study
and
ethnographic
lens
through
which
to
understand
the
ways
that
these
histories,
politics,
and
other
phenomena
impact
the
practices
of
language
revitalization.
The
study
of
indigenous
North
American
languages
and
cultures
has
a
roughly
500-­‐
year
history,
for
as
long
as
Europeans
have
been
encountering
native
peoples
on
the
continent,
they
have
been
writing
accounts
(for
other
Europeans
back
home)
of
their
encounters
and
the
people
they
meet
(Campbell
1997).10
The
first
descriptions
of
indigenous
languages
consist
of
informal
word
lists
and
dictionaries,
compiled
by
missionaries,
traders,
explorers,
and
military
and
government
officials;
many
of
these
earliest
documents,
due
to
their
emphasis
on
vocabulary
taken
out
of
context
and
a
lack
of
understanding
of
the
morphology
of
word-­‐construction,
are
rather
incomplete
by
modern
standards
(Goddard
1996).
Systematic
studies
of
indigenous
languages
of
the
region
were
rare—notable
exceptions
include
John
Eliot’s
1666
grammatical
sketch
of
Wampanoag.11
In
large
part,
linguistic
analyses
of
the
sort
conducted
by
contemporary
scholars
began
appearing
in
the
late
19th
century
with
the
rise
to
prominence
of
Franz
Boas,
and
the
establishment
and
10
Detailed
accounts
of
the
development
of
North
American
linguistics
may
be
found
in
Campbell
1997,
Goddard
1996,
and
Lurie
1988.
11
Typically
identified
as
“Massachusett;”
see
the
discussion
of
the
language’s
name,
above.

20. 20
institutionalization
of
both
anthropology
and
linguistics
as
scholarly
disciplines
in
North
America
(Goddard
1996).12
Since
this
period,
indigenous
communities
have
often
served
as
hosts
to
scholars
in
both
fields
and
as
sources
of
the
knowledge
those
scholars
rely
on
to
conduct
their
research—especially
knowledge
of
cultural
practices
and
speech
patterns.
However,
given
the
interactive
nature
of
linguistic
and
anthropological
research,
indigenous’
peoples
knowledge
contributions
must
be
recognized
as
including
eminently
practical
matters
as
well
(for
example,
who
to
talk
to,
where
to
eat
and
purchase
necessary
materials,
etc.).
The
intimate
nature
of
these
kinds
of
research
has
led
in
many
cases
to
close
relationships
between
scholars
of
indigenous
languages
and
cultures
and
the
people
whose
practices
they
study.
For
several
decades
before
World
War
II,
a
generally
positive
relationship
prevailed
between
American
anthropologists
and
the
Native
American
communities
with
whom
they
worked,
despite
theoretical
tendencies
to
view
Native
cultures
as
static
and
to
overlook
contemporary
adaptive
changes
in
favor
of
documenting
(and
in
some
cases
even
reconstructing)
older
practices
(Lurie
1988).
This
positive
relationship
led
many
scholars
to
advocate
in
legal
and
political
conflicts
on
behalf
of
the
communities
they
worked
with.
However,
in
the
post-­‐WWII
era,
a
sharp
growth
in
the
number
of
graduate
students
in
anthropology,
coupled
with
shifts
in
theoretical
emphasis
and
an
emergent
preoccupation
with
other
political
concerns
(in
particular
the
threat
posed
to
many
intellectuals
by
McCarthyism),
led
to
a
souring
of
the
relationship.
Native
American
communities
across
the
United
States
took
note
of
an
increasing
number
of
12
The
overlap
in
subject
matter
between
these
two
disciplines,
which
both
study
language—on
its
own,
in
the
case
of
linguistics,
and
as
part
of
a
broader
socio-­‐cultural
milieu,
in
the
case
of
anthropology—means
that
both
share
key
moments
and
figures
in
their
histories.

21. 21
anthropologists
in
their
midst
pursuing
projects
increasingly
less
compatible
with
Native
concerns,
and
of
a
decline
in
anthropologists’
public
advocacy
on
behalf
of
Native
communities,
and
interpreted
this
as
an
unequal,
extractive
relationship
(Lurie
1988).13
It
is
also
important
to
note
the
continued
involvement
of
missionaries
in
the
study
of
the
indigenous
languages
of
North
America.
In
the
20th
century,
a
number
of
Roman
Catholic
priests
have
provided
documentation
and
grammatical
analyses
of
languages
spoken
in
northern
regions
of
the
United
States
and
Canada;
since
1944,
the
Summer
Institute
of
Linguistics
(SIL),
a
Bible
translation
training
organization,
has
contributed
significant
documentary
and
pedagogical
materials
on
previously
unrecorded
indigenous
languages,
in
addition
to
their
liturgical
materials
(Mithun
1996).
There
is
a
long
history
in
North
America
of
professional
academics
taking
an
interest
in
the
indigenous
peoples
and
languages
of
the
continent.
Much
of
the
early
documentary
evidence
of
North
American
indigenous
languages
that
exists
today
has
been
a
product
of
Euro-­‐American
academic
and
missionary
efforts
at
linguistic
description
and
documentation.
In
North
America
in
the
20th
century,
anthropologists
since
Franz
Boas
have
been
the
primary
vehicle
of
much
of
the
linguistic
description
and
documentation
of
indigenous
languages;
in
regions
where
Spanish
colonization
dates
back
to
the
mid-­‐16th
century,
including
the
American
Southwest,
Catholic
missionaries
were
among
the
first
Europeans
to
document
indigenous
languages,
often
for
the
purposes
of
converting
indigenous
peoples
to
Christianity.
A
similar
process
happened
in
the
New
England
region,
where
Protestant
missionaries
sought
to
convert
indigenous
peoples
to
their
own
versions
of
13
For
an
example
of
an
influential
and
catalyzing
expression
of
this
sentiment,
see
Vine
Deloria’s
(1969)
Custer
Died
for
Your
Sins
(Lurie
1988:552).

22. 22
Christianity,
and
in
other
parts
of
the
hemisphere
as
well.
This
aspect
of
the
history
of
the
study
of
indigenous
languages
is
shared
widely
throughout
the
hemisphere.
French’s
(2010)
examination
of
ethnolinguistic
identity
claims
and
language
revitalization
efforts
among
the
Maya
peoples
of
highlands
Guatemala
gives
a
vivid
account
of
the
changing
relationships
to
academia
and
missionary
work
that
indigenous
language
communities
often
experience,
particularly
when
it
comes
to
efforts
at
revitalizing
their
languages.
The
history
of
the
Kaqchikel
Maya
language
illustrates
this
evolving
relationship
well:
first
efforts
at
description
and
documentation
by
non-­‐indigenous
Protestant
missionaries
with
the
intent
of
mass
conversion;
further
study
of
the
language
by
increasingly
professionalized,
outsider
linguists,
with
concomitant
devaluing
of
local
actors’
linguistic
knowledge;
and
eventual
development
of
a
body
of
professional
linguists
from
within
the
community
who
identify
with
and
support
the
efforts
at
revitalization
(French
2010).
The
parallels
between
this
account
and
the
case
of
Wampanoag
are
remarkable;
with
the
exception
of
a
devaluing
of
native-­‐speaker
linguistic
knowledge
(not
applicable
in
the
Wampanoag
case
due
to
a
lack
of
native
speakers
for
most
of
the
20th
century),
each
phase
of
the
interaction
between
the
indigenous
language
community
and
linguists
applies
equally
well
to
Wampanoag.
From
the
parallels
of
John
Eliot’s
Wampanoag
Bible
work
and
SIL
linguist
W.
Cameron
Townsend’s
similar
work,
to
the
training
of
indigenous
professional
linguists
in
both
the
Kaqchikel
and
Wampanoag
language
communities,
similarities
abound
(French
2010).
This
suggests
the
degree
to
which
contemporary
linguistic
study
in
relation
to
indigenous
languages
is
tied
to
the
expansionist
tendencies
of
European
political
and
religious
institutions
through
history.
Modern
indigenous
language
activists’
reliance
on
some
of
the
documentary
materials

23. 23
produced
by
individuals
affiliated
with
these
institutions
demonstrates
the
complicated
relationship
between
colonialism
and
indigenous
communities,
as
it
reflects
the
ways
in
which
religious
practices
and
federal
policies
have
both
caused
widespread
declines
in
indigenous
language
use
and
enabled
the
movements
that
seek
to
reverse
those
trends.
The
policies
of
the
United
States
federal
government
regarding
indigenous
groups
have
taken
many
forms.
From
the
beginning
of
its
existence
through
the
mid-­‐19th
century,
the
United
States
pursued
a
policy
of
forced
relocation
of
indigenous
communities
as
a
way
to
make
land
available
for
white
cultivation
and
settlement.
For
much
of
this
period
as
well,
official
federal
stances
toward
indigenous
peoples
also
pursued
the
goal
of
total
assimilation
into
white
society,
a
goal
which
extended
well
into
the
20th
century
(Peery
&
LPSN
2012:122).
Federal
policies
such
as
the
breakup
of
reservations
via
the
allotment
of
tribal
lands
(previously
held
in
trust)
to
individual
members,
the
establishment
of
mandatory
government-­‐run
boarding
schools
for
indigenous
children,
and
the
encouragement
of
Christian
missionary
activity
sought
to
accomplish
this
goal
in
various
ways.
These
historical
educational
practices
and
policies
have
had
lasting
effects
on
the
position
of
formalized
schooling
in
indigenous
North
American
communities.
Indian
boarding
schools
were
designed
to
‘civilize’—really,
assimilate—indigenous
people
by
regulating
their
clothing,
diet,
religious
practices,
and
language
use
in
an
educational
context,
requiring
students
to
abandon
indigenous
practices
and
adopt
Euro-­‐American
ones
in
their
place.
Many
individuals
involved
in
contemporary
language
revitalization
attribute
declines
in
indigenous
language
learning
and
usage
to
the
lasting
psychological
impact
of
these
policies
on
the
people
who
experienced
them
firsthand
(Debenport
2010:205;
Cornelius
1994;
Makepeace
2010).

24. 24
However,
with
the
publication
of
the
influential
“Meriam
report”
in
1928,
a
highly
critical
investigation
into
the
philosophy
and
practices
of
federal
administration
of
Native
American
affairs,
a
shift
in
official
attitudes
began
that
culminated
in
the
appointment
of
John
Collier,
the
former
executive
secretary
of
the
American
Indian
Defense
Association,
as
commissioner
of
Indian
affairs.
Collier
initiated
a
series
of
reforms
through
the
drafting
of
the
1934
Indian
Reorganization
Act,
often
referred
to
as
the
Indian
New
Deal
for
its
close
cooperation
with
New
Deal
programming,
a
development
that
“represented
a
compromise
between
Collier’s
dream
of
a
new
policy
encouraging
the
growth
of
Indian
society
and
culture
and
the
traditional
forces
of
assimilation”
(Kelly
1988:72-­‐3).
Old
policies
of
land
allotment
and
forced
Christianization
were
replaced
with
ones
that
“encourag[ed]
tribes
to
form
polities
that
could
take
a
place
within
the
US
governmental
hierarchy.
However,
creating
the
type
of
polity
that
would
be
acceptable
to
the
US
government
required
some
extensive
changes
in
the
political
and
social
structures”
(Peery
&
LPSN
2012:122)
of
many
indigenous
communities,
with
implications
for
language
revitalization
efforts
later
on.
Among
those
affected
in
this
way
by
federal
policy
was
the
Navajo
tribe:
…
the
BIA
[Bureau
of
Indian
Affairs]
used
language
programs
to
help
establish
a
democratic
tribal
government
and
society
among
the
Navajo.
Robert
Young’s
documentation
project
played
an
important
role
in
this
process.
His
standardization
of
the
language,
creation
of
dictionaries
and
primers,
development
of
a
Navajo
language
newspaper
and
encouragement
of
Navajo
literature
show
the
efforts
of
the
federal
government
to
develop
and
spread
these
logocratic
institutions.
[Peery
&
LPSN
2012:122]

25. 25
Together
these
factors
have
significantly
guided
the
development
of
the
modern
Navajo
polity,
many
of
whose
structures
are
now
modeled
on
those
of
the
United
States
federal
government.
The
Wampanoag
communities
of
Massachusetts
had
a
somewhat
different
experience
in
this
regard,
as
they
did
not
seek
federal
tribal
recognition
until
the
1970s
when
serious
challenges
to
their
autonomy
destabilized
the
delicate
balance
with
white
neighbors
that
had
resulted
from
300
years
of
persistence
in
the
face
of
assimilating
influences
(Campisi
1991).
Their
ultimately
successful
bid
came
at
an
important
time;
official
attitudes,
which
had
briefly
returned
to
a
desire
for
assimilation
of
indigenous
peoples
through
the
termination
of
tribal
government
structures
and
large
scale
Native
American
relocation
to
urban
areas,
shifted
in
the
mid-­‐1970s
toward
support
for
indigenous
self-­‐determination
with
the
passage
of
the
1975
Indian
Self-­‐Determination
and
Education
Assistance
Act.
Coupled
with
newfound
support
for
bilingual
education
programs,
this
act
enabled
the
establishment
of
funding
avenues
for
tribally
controlled
indigenous
language
programs
throughout
the
United
States
(Cornelius
1994).
Reformulation
of
Expertise
The
first
question
of
any
investigation
into
the
role
of
experts
and
expertise
must
be
to
establish
what
is
meant
by
the
terms.
The
designation
‘expert’
is
context-­‐determined
in
the
sense
that
one
is
not
simply
an
expert
always
and
everywhere,
and
in
relation
to
any-­‐
and
everything;
instead,
one
is
an
expert
within
a
particular
domain,
which
operates
through
“historically
constituted
and
contingent
metadiscursive
practices”
that
are
“inherently
interactional”
and
“ideological
because
[they
are]
implicated
in
semistable

26. 26
hierarchies
of
value
that
authorize
particular
ways
of
seeing
and
speaking”
(Carr
2010:18).
From
this
theoretical
perspective,
expertise
is
a
dynamic
process
by
which
particular
roles
are
enacted
in
particular
ways
(Carr
2010).
In
the
context
of
language
revitalization,
there
are
a
number
of
such
roles
enacted
by
participants,
such
as
linguist,
anthropologist,
professional
educator,
native
speaker,
and
elder,
among
others.
These
roles
all
describe
individuals
with
special
knowledge
of
a
particular
kind
and
enacted
in
particular
forms,
and
are
classified
as
experts
at
different
times
and
by
different
people
for
different
reasons.
The
different
ways
of
responding
to
the
question
of
what
kinds
of
expertise
matter
are
tied
to
different
ideological
and
social
formations.
Individuals
with
competing
claims
to
expert
status
ground
their
claims
to
it
in
different
practices,
and
these
diverging
understandings
of
expertise
frequently
come
into
conflict
in
indigenous
communities,
as
attested
by
the
phenomenon
of
widespread
Native
American
distrust
of
“anthros,”
author
Vine
Deloria’s
cover
term
for
a
variety
of
scholars
involved
in
Native
American
research
(Lurie
1988:555).
The
resolution
of
these
conflicts
in
language
revitalization
projects
suggests
that
these
efforts
become
productive
sites
for
the
reformulation
of
expertise.
The
category
of
experts
most
familiar
to
the
general
public
is
most
certainly
academics.
In
the
context
of
indigenous
language
revitalization,
these
are
individuals
with
advanced
degrees
in
language-­‐related
fields
(often
linguistics
and
anthropology)
whose
careers
revolve
around
the
production
and
circulation
of
certain
kinds
of
knowledge.
In
the
‘classic
model’
of
ethnographic
research,
a
researcher
who
is
not
a
member
of
the
group
being
studied
exists
in
an
asymmetric
relationship
to
that
community.
This
is
a
relationship
based
on
exchange:
the
researcher
receives
information
from
the
community
member,
and

27. 27
the
community
member
(typically)
gets
something
else
from
the
researcher
for
their
time
and
contribution
to
the
research.
This
‘something
else’
often
takes
the
form
of
money,
gifts,
assistance
with
a
variety
of
projects
and
activities,
such
as
literacy
classes
and
community
labor
projects,
or
advice
on
navigating
institutional
bureaucracies,
among
other
things.
This
arrangement
can
lead
to
certain
ethical
questions,
such
as
the
equivalence
of
the
exchange,
the
degree
of
(a)symmetry
in
the
relationship,
and
the
potential
for
exploitation.
Another
category
of
experts
with
relevance
to
language
revitalization,
grounded
in
a
different
conception
of
expertise,
is
professional
educators.
This
category
includes
teachers
at
all
levels
of
instruction;
there
is
somewhat
of
a
continuum
from
those
who
specialize
specifically
in
language
pedagogy
through
to
those
who
teach
other
‘content
areas’
entirely
in
the
target
language.
The
qualifications
for
expert
status
in
this
category
vary
from
place
to
place,
dependent
on
various
institutional,
local,
tribal,
state,
and
federal
requirements
regarding
teaching
certification,
particular
types
and
degrees
of
experience,
and
other
regulations.
As
mentioned
above,
historically
this
category
has
been
dominated
by
individuals
who
do
not
identify
as
members
of
indigenous
groups;
however,
since
the
1970s
greater
numbers
of
Native
American
communities
have
acquired
the
qualifications
for
this
expert
status
(i.e.,
teaching
certifications)
(Cornelius
1994;
Hinton
2008:356-­‐360).
Some
notable
exceptions
and
challenges
to
this
norm
include
jessie
little
doe
baird,
Daryl
Baldwin,
and
a
host
of
other
indigenous
language
activists
who
function
as
both
scholars
of
linguistics
and
anthropology
and
as
language
educators
for
their
communities
(Mithun
1996:56-­‐58).
Let
us
consider
the
situation
of
jessie
little
doe
baird.
As
a
lifelong
member
of
the
Wampanoag
community,
the
first
scholar
to
conduct
the
kinds
of
linguistic
research
in
support
of
Wampanoag
language
revitalization
mentioned
above,
and
one
of

28. 28
the
driving
forces
behind
the
organization
of
the
WLRP,
baird
has
deep
personal
connections
to
the
community
her
expertise
serves.
A
testament
to
the
significance
that
this
multiple
role
can
carry
is
the
fact
that
baird
and
her
husband
have
raised
their
daughter
as
the
first
native
speaker
of
the
language
in
decades
(baird
2013:23).
It
is
important
to
note
that
baird
is
not
unique
in
this
regard,
however,
as
many
indigenous
language
revitalization
projects
in
the
United
States
involve
at
least
some
community
members
who
perform
language
revitalization
work
in-­‐and-­‐by
enacting
the
metadiscursive
practices
of
academia
(Hinton
2013).
An
illustrative
example
of
the
ways
that
different
understandings
of
expertise
have
relevance
comes
to
us
from
the
recent
history
of
Wampanoag
language
revitalization
(see
baird
2013
and
Makepeace
2010).
In
the
very
early
stages
of
the
current
revitalization
movement
started
by
jessie
little
doe
baird,
a
group
of
Wampanoag
community
members
that
would
eventually
become
the
WLRP
held
a
meeting
to
which
the
MIT
linguist
Ken
Hale
had
been
invited
to
come
talk
to
community
members
about
revitalization.
In
the
course
of
the
meeting,
Hale
gave
a
presentation
in
which
he
gave,
as
an
example
of
a
Wampanoag
word,
a
form
that
does
not
occur
in
the
language.
The
various
members
of
the
Algonquian
language
family
have
differing
reflexes
of
the
reconstructed
Proto-­‐Algonquian
/l/
phoneme,
and
Hale
mistakenly
gave
a
form
that
included
the
/l/
where
the
Wampanoag
language
only
always
has
/n/.
This
error
prompted
baird
to
question
on
what
grounds
this
“elder
white
man”
felt
qualified
enough
as
an
expert
on
the
language
to
instruct
her
community
on
it,
when
he
made
errors
such
as
this
(Makepeace
2010).
Some
of
the
practices
in
the
research
and
development
of
Wampanoag
language
teaching
materials
that
reveal
one
particular
way
in
which
the
conflict
between
competing

29. 29
enactments
of
expertise
is
resolved:
the
appropriation
of
metadiscursive
practices
from
other
disciplines.
Accounts
by
baird
(2013)
and
Makepeace
(2010)
describe
how
researchers
draw
on
techniques
from
the
disciplines
of
documentary
and
historical
linguistics.
In
order
to
build
a
useable
Wampanoag
dictionary,
researchers
pore
over
texts
in
the
corpus
of
historical
Wampanoag
documents
to
identify
words
that
have
not
been
documented
(Ash
et
al.
2001:30).
However,
extensive
as
this
corpus
is,
some
items
are
simply
not
found
in
any
of
the
documents;
when
the
concept
denoted
by
the
‘missing’
word
is
deemed
likely
to
have
been
relevant
for
historical
Wampanoag
peoples,
the
research
team
reconstructs
a
Wampanoag
lexical
item
through
a
process
of
comparing
terms
from
other
currently-­‐spoken
Algonquian
languages
and
applying
the
historical
sound
changes
that
have
taken
place
from
Proto-­‐Algonquian
to
Wampanoag
(Ash
et
al.
2001:30;
Makepeace
2010).
In
addition
to
cataloging
and
reconstructing
lexical
items,
researchers
analyze
and
interpret
aspects
of
the
syntax,
morphology,
pronunciation,
and
semantics
of
Wampanoag
in
order
to
construct
a
usable
grammar
of
the
language
for
instruction
(Ash
et
al.
2001:31).
The
linguistic
techniques
adopted
by
the
WLRP
are
here
altered
slightly
in
their
application
and
significance.
As
they
are
practiced
within
the
domain
of
language
revitalization,
these
techniques
work
to
establish
foundational
materials
in
the
‘awakening’
of
the
Wampanoag
language,
whereas
for
the
academic
disciplines
that
initiated
these
practices,
they
do
not.
Consequently,
these
practices
take
on
a
new
meaning
for
local
actors
as
they
are
implicated
in
new
and
different
“semistable
hierarchies
of
value”
(Carr
2010:18),
thereby
reformulating
local
understandings
of
expertise.

30. 30
These
metadiscursive
practices
are
involved
in
language
revitalization
not
only
produce
local
reformulations
of
expertise.
For
example,
as
Debenport
writes,
“For
many
participants
in
linguistic
fieldwork
projects,
new
forms
of
material
culture
are
being
created
and
circulated,
including
written
indigenous
language
texts,
audio
and
visual
materials,
and
commercial
manifestations
of
native
languages”
(Debenport
2010:208).
I
begin
the
next
section
by
addressing
the
circulation
of
these
forms
of
material
culture
and
its
relationship
to
particular
social
formations
and
political
concerns.
Politics,
Access,
and
Language
Ideologies
There
are
certain
aspects
of
social
organization
that
also
have
direct
implications
on
language
revitalization.
Institutions,
social
practices,
and
ideologies
interact
with
one
another
in
complex
ways;
in
this
section,
I
address
some
of
the
ways
that
these
factors
have
impacted
the
shape
and
direction
of
Wampanoag
(and
other)
revitalization
projects.
As
in
any
domain,
the
relationships
among
individual,
group,
and
institutional
actors
contribute
to
the
particular
ways
that
knowledge,
discourses,
and
text
artifacts
circulate.
This
circulation
has
profound
relevance
for
language
revitalization,
as
language
activists
frequently
must
make
use
of
specialist
knowledge
of
indigenous
languages,
language
learning
processes,
and
social
movements
in
order
to
develop
effective
materials
for
revitalization,
such
as
teaching
materials
and
other
resources.
However,
the
structure
of
academic
institutions
delimits
the
circulation
and
accessibility
of
these
materials,
which
take
various
forms:
journal
articles
and
books
intended
for
academic
(or
other
specialist)
audiences,
as
well
as
archival
recordings,
field
notes,
and
reference
texts.
Each
of
these
media
provides
certain
specific
affordances;
thus,
while
all
of
these
objects
provide
the

31. 31
opportunity
for
continued
access
to
linguistic
information
through
time,
they
do
not
do
so
in
the
same
ways.
Written
documents
such
as
articles,
books,
and
field
notes
enable
access
to
their
contents
regardless
of
the
availability
of
electricity,
in
contrast
to
digital
artifacts
such
as
recordings
of
speech,
videos
of
speakers,
or
online
materials.
However,
the
latter
group
enables
users
to
experience
aspects
of
language
and
communication
that
are
not
easily
conveyed
through
written
channels,
such
as
tone,
inflection,
timing,
and
gesture.
Books
and
tape
recordings,
as
durable
objects,
can
withstand
changing
environmental
conditions,
but
their
ability
to
be
circulated
is
limited
by
the
fact
that
as
physical
objects
they
can
only
be
circulated
by
individuals
coming
into
physical
proximity,
in
contrast
to
those
digital
forms
that
can
be
accessed
remotely
over
the
Internet.
In
addition
to
the
particular
affordances
of
each
of
these
media,
certain
aspects
of
their
positions
and
roles
within
institutions
and
connected
to
particular
socially
positioned
practices
help
to
circumscribe
their
circulation.
For
example,
most
academic
journals
require
paid
subscriptions;
therefore,
an
individual’s
ability
to
access
them
requires
either
sufficient
financial
resources
or
access
to
a
subscribing
institutional
library,
such
as
a
university
library.
Books
pose
similar
constraints.
The
accessibility
of
these
objects
is
augmented
by
interlibrary
loan
systems
and
online
article
databases,
but
these
are
not
ubiquitously
available
and
can
impose
their
own
restrictions
on
access
to
their
materials.
Access
to
archival
recordings,
field
notes,
and
other
‘primary’
research
materials
is
similarly
limited,
although
to
different
degrees
depending
on
the
object;
certainly,
it
is
a
common
practice
for
researchers
to
maintain
exclusive
access
to
the
field
notes,
while
in
some
cases
archival
recordings
are
made
available
for
specific
purposes
or
to
specific
audiences.

32. 32
This
question
of
access
is
not
only
relevant
in
physical
terms,
however,
as
it
also
touches
on
the
matter
of
disciplinary
jargon
and
register
in
academic
discourses.
While
the
participation
in
the
circulation
of
these
discourses
requires
familiarity
with
the
denotative
aspects
of
disciplinary
jargon,
this
is
not
their
only
function.
The
widespread
recognition
of
notable
differences
between
the
(especially
written)
language
of
academia
and
the
(primarily
spoken)
language
varieties
used
by
the
rest
of
the
population
suggests
an
analysis
of
the
former
that
identifies
its
particular
characteristics
as
voicing
and
enregisterment
phenomena
that
indexically
link
the
speaker
or
writer
to
a
particular
social
category
of
persons,
namely
‘experts’
within
their
field.
Carr
(2010)
speaks
to
the
dual
function
of
these
phenomena
when
she
writes,
“Indeed,
socialization
into
a
domain
of
expertise
involves
learning
how
to
control
interactional
texts
as
much
as
determining
the
content
of
denotational
ones.
That
is,
apprentices
learn
not
only
what
to
say
in
representing
the
objects
of
their
expertise,
but
how
to
say
it
as
well”
(Carr
2010:21).
By
acknowledging
that
“apprentices
learn”
to
manage
these
phenomena,
Carr
implicates
not
only
the
possession
of
specialized
knowledge
but
its
acquisition
as
well
(Carr
2010:21,
emphasis
added).
Aspects
of
the
institutional
contexts
in
which
this
knowledge
is
acquired
further
work
to
circumscribe
the
circulation
of
these
discourses.
The
fact
that
universities
have
limited
enrollment
and
detailed
admissions
policies,
which
may
privilege
students
of
certain
demographics
over
others
by,
for
example,
requiring
established
and
demonstrable
proficiency
in
the
standard
language
of
instruction,
as
well
as
familiarity
with
certain
genre
norms—the
potential
audiences
to
which
academic
discourses
are
intelligible
(or
can
be
made
intelligible)
are
circumscribed
in
numbers
and
in
backgrounds.
Thus,
due
to
the