Learning Torres Strait Islander languages is not just learning about words but also our relationships to the land, sea and sky
Learning Torres Strait Islander languages is not just learning about words but also our relationships to the land, sea and sky
My name is Ali Jimmy Drummond. I was named after my paternal grandfather Mohamed Ali Drummond, who belonged to the Wuthathi people of Cape York, and my maternal great-great grandfather Jimmy Wailu, who belonged to the Dauareb people of the Murray Islands.
I am a Meriam and Dauareb (Murray Islands) traditional owner and a member of the Wuthathi Aboriginal Corporation. My family lines expand beyond this but those that need to know my connections know.
As a nurse academic, I am privileged to teach the next generation of nurses. Most undergraduate health professional education now requires students to undertake education in Indigenous health. Balancing the expectations of health professional groups and universities is complex work. Navigating this as an Indigenous man while trying to learn how to better privilege Indigenous peoples’ knowledges and perspectives is challenging.
This yarn is about how reconnecting with Torres Strait Islander languages, knowledges and community. The lessons I learnt about belonging and relationality have stayed with me and continue to evolve my practices.
Like many yarns, this starts with something I saw on Facebook. I saw a promotion for Mabuiag language classes in Brisbane.
Mabuiag is a dialect of Kalaw Lagau Ya, the Western Islander language group of the Torres Strait Islands. I was surprised by the access to learn a Torres Strait Islander language in Brisbane, and I was curious about how the opportunity came about and what I could learn if I participated.
Driving down Montague Road towards a small industrial building for my first language class, I was getting increasingly nervous. I had spent all day switching between teaching activities and working on my PhD, so I didn’t get a chance to prepare for my language class. I hadn’t done any readings or listened to any podcasts nor had I spoken to my mother or father, my go-tos for proper cultural matters.
Who was going to be there? Will I be related to them? If so, how? What are the proper protocols? Relationality or how we relate to one another is imperative and protocols refer to how we negotiate relationships in dynamic contexts. I didn’t want to make mistakes and then have my mistakes determine my worthiness of the language. I was also not sure if I would be accepted, because while I had family connections to Mabuiag through marriage, this was not a language that I identified with growing up.
Ali Drummond and other young Torres Strait Islander people at the 2019 Mabo celebrations Photograph: Leon Filewood
My nervousness was at its peak as I walked towards the class. Then, upon seeing the familiar face of Aunty Mattie, the nerves started to dissipated. Aunty Mattie and her husband Uncle Brian were our generous language teachers. Aunty Mattie pulled me aside to recite our family connectedness and we yarned about family. These lessons were not promoted on the Facebook page of course. The warm embrace (actual hugs and welcoming engagement) was a familiar feeling; like visiting family. It was not just about feeling welcomed but about belonging.
Relationality was a pivotal pedagogical or teaching principle. This wasn’t just limited to our relationship with each other and other Torres Strait Islanders, but also our relationship to our home – the land, the sea, the sky and the cosmos. Uncle Brian taught us the basics, including the Ephraim phonetic orthography (alphabet), words, pronunciations and sentence structures.
The relationality to our home was pivotal to the teaching. Learning about words required us to gain an appreciation of the seasons and their relationships to the weather, stars, and the life cycles of the animals and plants. It was like learning about these entities all over again, from a position that privileged our knowing and being.
We learned about the origins of words, as you would a word based on Latin or Greek, only their origins were here. This provided insight into the founding ontology (being) and epistemology (thinking). Poetic and lyrical, our languages are not just a reflection of the English translation of one reality but more insight into our ways of being and knowing within multiple realities.
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