This summer, Rivers students are embarking on a variety of interesting and challenging adventures, from doing community service abroad to attending prestigious music camps. Throughout the coming months, we will be periodically checking in with a handful of students to learn more about their experiences. Today, we hear from Emily Hoberman, who is working at the Children’s Hospital this summer.
Over the past six weeks, I have observed and learned much about the communication and interaction between babies and the people who are taking care of them. One of the most interesting things that I have observed is how the babies respond to how you are feeling and your mood. For example, on Wednesday I was holding a two-month old baby. I was a little nervous when I was first holding her because she was quite ill and fragile. As a result of my nervousness, the baby's breathing was faster than normal and her body seemed tense. After ten minutes, however, as I became less nervous, she became less nervous and actually started to hiccup, which usually means that the baby is completely relaxed. Also, when I took a deep breath in and yawned, her breathing slowed down even more, and she yawned too! It was very interesting to see this physiological reaction.
The child life specialist and the nurses have taught me various other techniques to interact with the babies. These techniques include telling them stories and simply talking to them as if you were talking to an adult. When I first heard of these approaches, I was surprised and did not understand how they could possibly work, or how the baby could understand what I was saying. However, after actually trying out this technique it seemed to work perfectly. The babies enjoy the chatter and usually fall asleep peacefully or easily calm down from crying. Another technique is singing to them. Although I do not have the greatest of voices and was fearful that the babies would start hysterically crying when they heard my singing, I tried this approach. I always tend to sing holiday songs, and the babies love them!
In addition to these techniques for keeping the babies entertained and calm, they also help the babies stay developmentally on track. Since a sick baby can often be confined to his hospital room in isolation or under severe precautions for months at a time, he does not experience the same level of social interaction that a baby living at home and experiencing the outside world does. All of the above techniques are thus extremely effective in keeping the baby in as normal an environment as possible and keeping them developmentally on track.
At the end of my day, I am often amazed by the strength of the children, their families and the care providers at Children's Hospital. Improving the quality of life for hospitalized kids is a top priority at Children's. In fact, the job of the Child Life Service Department is mostly to normalize a child's experience while they are hospitalized. Whether it is mimicking the constant hum of noise from the outside world, recognizing an important milestone such as Mother's Day, or providing the important human touch, this department helps to support the children and their families during this difficult time in their lives.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Hablando Español huan niquitica ica nahuatl (and speaking English, too)
This summer, Rivers teachers are embarking on a variety of activities through the school’s faculty enrichment grants, which aim to promote the intellectual growth of Rivers teachers through research, education, and other independent projects. Today, we hear from Ben Leeming, who is traveling to Zacatecas, Mexico to study the Uto-Aztecan language of Nahuatl.
One of the challenges of this summer has been navigating three languages, typically at the same time. Here's an example. In my afternoon classes I am studying the form of Nahuatl that was spoken and written during the 16th through the 18th centuries in Mexico, usually referred to as classical Nahuatl. In the class as students are not only Mexicans and estadounidenses (United-Statesians), but a number of the native-speaking instructors who teach the modern form of the language in the morning classes. Our teacher is the director of the program, John Sullivan, who is an Irish-Catholic native of Lowell, MA who has lived in Zacatecas for 30 years and is also fluent in Nahuatl. The result ends up looking like this: the majority of the class is taught in Spanish, however, some students ask questions in English, which in turn John answers in Spanish or Nahuatl. The native speakers ask questions to John in Nahuatl, which very few of us can understand well enough to follow, and John then answers in Nahuatl and then Spanish. The homework assignments and tests all have directions written in Nahuatl, but our answers may be written in Spanish or English depending on our preference. Whew! Outside of class, the situation is similar. A typical interaction might sound something like this:
"Piyali." (Hello.)
"Queniuhqui tiitztoc?" (How are you?)
"Bien" (Fine.)
"How was your weekend?"
"Good. We went to see La Quemada (an archaeological site nearby). ¿Y tú? (And you?)
"Nada mucho. Me descansé y estudié para el exámen hoy." (Not much. I rested and studied for the test today."
"Timoittazceyoc." (See you later.)
"Piyali." (Adiós.)
Sometimes my tongue gets completely tied in knots. Often I feel like I am speaking all three languages poorly and walk away from an interchange like the one above shaking my head and thinking, "What an idiot I must be!" Still, it's invigorating and challenging...which is invigorating and challenging. Time is flying by with just two weeks left in Mexico!
One of the challenges of this summer has been navigating three languages, typically at the same time. Here's an example. In my afternoon classes I am studying the form of Nahuatl that was spoken and written during the 16th through the 18th centuries in Mexico, usually referred to as classical Nahuatl. In the class as students are not only Mexicans and estadounidenses (United-Statesians), but a number of the native-speaking instructors who teach the modern form of the language in the morning classes. Our teacher is the director of the program, John Sullivan, who is an Irish-Catholic native of Lowell, MA who has lived in Zacatecas for 30 years and is also fluent in Nahuatl. The result ends up looking like this: the majority of the class is taught in Spanish, however, some students ask questions in English, which in turn John answers in Spanish or Nahuatl. The native speakers ask questions to John in Nahuatl, which very few of us can understand well enough to follow, and John then answers in Nahuatl and then Spanish. The homework assignments and tests all have directions written in Nahuatl, but our answers may be written in Spanish or English depending on our preference. Whew! Outside of class, the situation is similar. A typical interaction might sound something like this:
"Piyali." (Hello.)
"Queniuhqui tiitztoc?" (How are you?)
"Bien" (Fine.)
"How was your weekend?"
"Good. We went to see La Quemada (an archaeological site nearby). ¿Y tú? (And you?)
"Nada mucho. Me descansé y estudié para el exámen hoy." (Not much. I rested and studied for the test today."
"Timoittazceyoc." (See you later.)
"Piyali." (Adiós.)
Sometimes my tongue gets completely tied in knots. Often I feel like I am speaking all three languages poorly and walk away from an interchange like the one above shaking my head and thinking, "What an idiot I must be!" Still, it's invigorating and challenging...which is invigorating and challenging. Time is flying by with just two weeks left in Mexico!
Friday, July 17, 2009
For the past 130 years, Sumerian scholars have worked hard to figure out the vocabulary and grammar of the Sumerian language. While much progress has been made, there are still many aspects of Sumerian which remain mysterious, and debates and disagreements abound in the scholarly community. Despite this fact, there is much that is agreed upon, and scholars are pretty confident about much of the language. As a result, many documents have been translated, and the Sumerian history they reveal is an important part of many ancient and world history courses today.
I thought I would give a brief explanation of how a text in Sumerian is translated. The text above is a royal inscription from a clay brick. The inscription contains a dedication to Nanna, the Sumerian moon god, and the god to whom the largest (and most famous) temple of the city of Ur was dedicated. The brick was dedicated by Ur-Nammu, the founder of the dynasty, who probably ruled from 2112 BCE to 2095 BCE.
The first step in the process in to transliterate the inscription, which means writing out the values of each sign. The transliteration tells the reader exactly what signs are present. (This text has eight lines, which are read starting from the top of the left-hand column and moving down, and then going to the top of the right-hand column and moving down.)
The transliteration of this inscription looks like this:
1 dšeš-ki (=Nanna)
2. lugal-a-ni
3. Ur- dNammu
4. lugal-šeš-ab-ki (=Urim5ki)-ma-ke4
5. e2-a-ni
6. mu-na-du3
7. bad3-šeš-ki(=Urim5ki)-ma
8. mu-na-du3
The next step is to produce a transcription of the signs. Sumerian scholars do not believe that the original purpose of the cuneiform writing system was to render the spoken language as exactly as possible in writing; many scholars think that, at least early on, the writing system might have been more of a shorthand, and scribes were left to fill in the blanks. A transcription attempts to show the best estimate of the “correct phonological shape” of the inscription, what the language actually conveyed. As you will see, there are differences between the transliterated version of the inscription and its transcription.
The transcription of this inscription looks like this:
1. [Nanna
2. lugal.ani].(r)
3. [Ur.Nammu
4. lugal.Urim5.ak].e
5. [e2.ani].Æ
6. mu.na.(n.)du3.Æ
7. bad.urim5.a.Æ
8. mu.na.(n.)du3.Æ
Finally, the translation takes place:
1. For Nanna,
2. his king—
3. Ur-Nammu
4. the king of Ur—
5. his temple—
6. built
7. The city wall of Ur—
8. he built for him.
I will not discuss all the details of this short text, but I will note a couple of points:
1. Sumerian is an agglutinative language, meaning it builds up words by joining many different prefixes and affixes to verbal and nominal roots. The verb in lines 6 and 8, for example, consist of five elements. The mu is called a conjugation prefix. There are a number of conjugation prefixes, but scholars are not sure what purpose they served. The na is called a directional prefix, and it tells something about case relationships. In line 6 for example, the na cross references the dative case (marked with an .r in line 1). The n is a personal affix. It tells the reader about the relationship between the agent and patient (the terminology used in ergative languages for what we call the subject and direct object). The n here cross references the agent, Ur-Nammu, who is described in lines 3 and 4, and is marked with an .e. Next comes the verbal root du3. This verb means to build. Finally, there is a personal affix. In the case of this verb form, there is no need for one, so in the transcription a Æ is written. (This Æ would actually be a zero with a line through it, but I could not get it to appear correctly in the blog.) This particular verb is pretty simple; many Sumerian verbs contain many more prefixes and affixes.
2. Note that in line 1 there are three signs for Nanna, the moon god. The d (in superscript) is a determinative. It would not be pronounced in spoken Sumerian, but it tells the reader of a written text that what followed was the name of a god. The šeš-ki signs together represent Nanna.
3. Finally, in line 4 the transliteration reads lugal-Urim5ki-ma-ke4 but the transcription reads lugal.Urim5.ak.e.The m of the ma sign duplicates the m at the end of Urim, so the second of the two m’s is not written. The a of ma is joined with the k of ke4. The ak sign is the genitive marker. Finally, the e of the ke4 is the ergative marker, indicating that what precedes these signs is the agent (or subject) of the statement. This line of the inscription is a pretty good indication of how the writing system is not an exact phonetic representation of the language.
David Burzillo
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Week Five
This summer, Rivers students are embarking on a variety of interesting and challenging adventures, from doing community service abroad to attending prestigious music camps. Throughout the coming months, we will be periodically checking in with a handful of students to learn more about their experiences. Today, we hear from Emily Hoberman, who is working at the Children’s Hospital this summer.
Today began my fifth week of volunteering at Children's Hospital. When I arrived on the floor this morning, I was greeted by a loud chorus of crying babies. The problem with being on a floor with many babies is that when one baby cries, all of the others join in. However, I have become used to the "audio excitement" and it no longer bothers me.
For the first hour, I held a tiny two week old baby. When I first started holding babies, I was so nervous about hurting them or even moving because they are so small, and many of them come to the floor right from the NICU. Almost all of them are attached to IVs and other monitors which makes holding them a challenge at times. It frequently doesn't feel like I am holding anything when I rock these babies because they are so small, and generally weigh only five to seven pounds. I have learned many techniques for calming the babies such as holding them very close to my body so that they can feel the rhythm of my breathing and can also feel my body's warmth. I have learned that slowly rocking the babies with my arms while rocking in the chair usually puts them to sleep.
After holding several more babies, I played with a five year old boy for over two hours. He and I started off the morning by playing eight games of Guess Who, seven of which he won. Afterwards, he taught me just about every game that one can play with cards, such as SlapJack and Trash, many of which I had never heard of. For such a young person, he was extremely good. I was only slightly embarrassed that he was beating me at many of the games he was teaching me until we started to play Checkers. At that point, after two hours of games and cards, he proceeded to beat me in three games of Checkers! Again, I was very impressed with his skills at these games.
The floor was fairly quiet in the afternoon, so I was assigned the task of completely reorganizing one of the bulletin boards in the main hallway. The board displays the many pictures sent from families of the kids who once spent time being cared for on my floor. This task took about one hour and then I was asked to rock one of the babies that I have been holding since my first week at work. When I first met her, she was only ten days old, and it is truly amazing and wonderful to see how much she has grown. It gives me a great feeling knowing that I gave her hours of comfort during these weeks by gently holding and rocking her as well as singing her lullabies. While this job may not be as intellectually challenging as some, it is very emotionally fulfilling, knowing that I am making a positive difference in the lives of these babies, children and their families.
Next week, I will share more about the importance of singing, talking, playing and reading to the babies and young children during their time at the hospital.
--Emily Hoberman
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
A Day in the Life of a Pilgrim
This summer, Rivers teachers are embarking on a variety of activities through the school’s faculty enrichment grants, which aim to promote the intellectual growth of Rivers teachers through research, education, and other independent projects. Today, we hear from Alaina Cotillo, who is participating in the five-week St. James’ Way hike that starts in St. Jean Pied de Port, France and ends in Santiago de Compostela, Spain.
I have had difficulty recently pulling myself away from the Camino and back into the real world. For that reason, it has been quite a while since my last posting. My experience thus far has been everything I wanted and more. I am still in the process of reflecting upon my travels here, and in the meantime, I thought I would explain what a day in the life of a pilgrim is like.
My day starts around 5:30 a.m. when other pilgrims begin to wake up and make lots of noise packing their backpacks and making preparations for the day. Leaving the hostel about 45 minutes later, I hope that a bar or cafeteria will be open for breakfast but they almost never open until 7 a.m. After my morning café con leche and napolitana, I feel energized and get into my rhythm for the day. On the Camino, I have been walking between 18 and 26+ miles a day and because of that, my day mostly consists of walking and eating. I´ve learned that I need to stop for a few minutes to rest my feet and have a snack every two hours. Sometimes I think I´m on a tour of the pastelerías in Spain rather than a pilgrimage. As someone who loves sweets, I have loved eating anything I want and burning off the calories through my walks! I usually stop for lunch between 2 and 3 p.m. buying some bread, cheese, and meat from a supermarket as well as a few other assorted goodies and sit happily on a shady bench that protects me from the strong, Spanish sun. Arriving at the hostel between 4 and 6 p.m. the day might seem like it is over, but in reality, I´ve just completed the first part. Once I´ve checked in and had my pilgrim´s passport stamped, I still need to shower and wash my clothes by hand, the latter being my least favorite part of the day. Lastly, there are the preparations for dinner which depend on whether or not the hostel has a kitchen. If it does, I will buy pasta or salad ingredients and cook there. If there´s no kitchen, then it´s usually sandwich #2 with yogurt and/or chocolate for dessert. Bedtime is usually around 10 p.m. and if I´m lucky I fall asleep before the people around me start snoring. Although I wear earplugs, I am often still woken up by loud snores coming from all directions in the middle of the night; but that, I suppose, is part of the experience of being a pilgrim.
I have had difficulty recently pulling myself away from the Camino and back into the real world. For that reason, it has been quite a while since my last posting. My experience thus far has been everything I wanted and more. I am still in the process of reflecting upon my travels here, and in the meantime, I thought I would explain what a day in the life of a pilgrim is like.
My day starts around 5:30 a.m. when other pilgrims begin to wake up and make lots of noise packing their backpacks and making preparations for the day. Leaving the hostel about 45 minutes later, I hope that a bar or cafeteria will be open for breakfast but they almost never open until 7 a.m. After my morning café con leche and napolitana, I feel energized and get into my rhythm for the day. On the Camino, I have been walking between 18 and 26+ miles a day and because of that, my day mostly consists of walking and eating. I´ve learned that I need to stop for a few minutes to rest my feet and have a snack every two hours. Sometimes I think I´m on a tour of the pastelerías in Spain rather than a pilgrimage. As someone who loves sweets, I have loved eating anything I want and burning off the calories through my walks! I usually stop for lunch between 2 and 3 p.m. buying some bread, cheese, and meat from a supermarket as well as a few other assorted goodies and sit happily on a shady bench that protects me from the strong, Spanish sun. Arriving at the hostel between 4 and 6 p.m. the day might seem like it is over, but in reality, I´ve just completed the first part. Once I´ve checked in and had my pilgrim´s passport stamped, I still need to shower and wash my clothes by hand, the latter being my least favorite part of the day. Lastly, there are the preparations for dinner which depend on whether or not the hostel has a kitchen. If it does, I will buy pasta or salad ingredients and cook there. If there´s no kitchen, then it´s usually sandwich #2 with yogurt and/or chocolate for dessert. Bedtime is usually around 10 p.m. and if I´m lucky I fall asleep before the people around me start snoring. Although I wear earplugs, I am often still woken up by loud snores coming from all directions in the middle of the night; but that, I suppose, is part of the experience of being a pilgrim.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
My First Week
This summer, Rivers students are embarking on a variety of interesting and challenging adventures, from doing community service abroad to attending prestigious music camps. Throughout the coming months, we will be periodically checking in with a handful of students to learn more about their experiences. Today, we hear from Alexander Post, who is working at the Children’s Hospital this summer through the Rivers science internship program.
I began my internship in the Simulator Program last week. The main objective of the Simulator Program is to provide a high-fidelity simulation as a tool for healthcare education. In the simulation suite we use a variety of mannequins to train clinicians. The mannequins are extremely accurate representations of the human body - they breathe, talk, blink, and have pulses. In order to create a more realistic environment, the simulation lab is an actual patient room in the Medical Surgical Intensive Care Unit. The control room is adjacent to the Simulation Lab. From there, the patient simulators can be controlled using computers. Nearly any scenario can be programmed - for example, in the morning one of the simulators could have an asthma attack and in the afternoon it could have a heart attack. The clinicians participating can complete any procedure that they would do on an actual patient. The simulator will have a correct physiological response to any drugs given or procedures done, even if it is not the correct action. Over the coming weeks I will help run simulations, shadow clinicians, and learn about arrhythmias (irregular heartbeats). I am very excited about everything I will experience and learn this summer!
-Alex Post
I began my internship in the Simulator Program last week. The main objective of the Simulator Program is to provide a high-fidelity simulation as a tool for healthcare education. In the simulation suite we use a variety of mannequins to train clinicians. The mannequins are extremely accurate representations of the human body - they breathe, talk, blink, and have pulses. In order to create a more realistic environment, the simulation lab is an actual patient room in the Medical Surgical Intensive Care Unit. The control room is adjacent to the Simulation Lab. From there, the patient simulators can be controlled using computers. Nearly any scenario can be programmed - for example, in the morning one of the simulators could have an asthma attack and in the afternoon it could have a heart attack. The clinicians participating can complete any procedure that they would do on an actual patient. The simulator will have a correct physiological response to any drugs given or procedures done, even if it is not the correct action. Over the coming weeks I will help run simulations, shadow clinicians, and learn about arrhythmias (irregular heartbeats). I am very excited about everything I will experience and learn this summer!
-Alex Post
A little history: Mexico's indigenous peoples, the program, y yo
This summer, Rivers teachers are embarking on a variety of activities through the school’s faculty enrichment grants, which aim to promote the intellectual growth of Rivers teachers through research, education, and other independent projects. Today, we hear from Ben Leeming, who is traveling to Zacatecas, Mexico to study the Uto-Aztecan language of Nahuatl.
The indigenous peoples of Mexico and those of the United States share some similarities (you know, having their lands seized by invading Europeans and the ensuing oppression, forced assimilation, death, etc., etc.) However, there are significant differences worth noting. To be an Indian in the United States, one need only be able to claim blood relation. One can be one-quarter or one-sixteenth Indian and be accepted as such. While some still live on reservations, Indians of modern-day America (at least in the northeast) for the most part look and talk and dress like you and me. In Mexico, Indian identity is a radically different thing. Yes, blood matters. However, in the eyes of Mexico’s indigenous peoples, one must be 100% Indian to be Indian. If you even have one non-Indian blood relative, you are not Indian. But there’s much more.
The most salient identifying marks of the Indian from point of view of both Indians and non-Indians in Mexico are: skin color (dark, not light), where you live (rural, not urban), socio-economic status (poor, not middle class or rich), and most of all, language (indigenous, not Spanish). In fact, the word the indigenous peoples of Mexico use to name themselves is not "indio" but "macehualli", which is Nahuatl for "poor commoner, peon." If one doesn’t fit these characteristics, if, for example, an Indian leaves the village, moves to the city, adopts an urban lifestyle, dress, and speech, they are no longer Indian, they are now mestizo. Of course, it is precisely this process, young Indians leaving the village for the city, losing their language and their traditions, that is happening all across Mexico today and is resulting in the astonishing loss of indigenous language and culture.
However, can you blame them? To be Indian in Mexico, today and since the 16th century has been synonymous with being poor, uneducated, without opportunities for advancement or access to many privileges of society, and more often than not, the object of outright oppression, violence, and some would even say, genocidal programs aimed at forced assimilation or eradication. The pressure on indigenous peoples to assimilate continues to be strong and manifests itself in everything from government policy to racist attitudes among the non-Indian population.
The Program
When I tell people from Mexico that I am in Zacatecas to learn to speak Nahuatl, they all reply, "Zacatecas? Why Zacatecas? No body speaks Nahuatl here. You should try Veracruz." It's true. In general, there is no indigenous Nahuatl-speaking population currently living in the state of Zacatecas. (Although there used to be. Back in the colonial period this was a major Nahua area. In fact, one of the documents we have been working on translating here is a 17th century petition from a town called Tlaltenango, which is in Zacatecas. It's is written by the Nahuatl-speaking elders of the town in Nahuatl to the bishop of Zacatecas.) But the question is a valid one: why study Nahuatl in Zacatecas? The story goes like this:
About 15 years ago, a small group of Nahua teenagers from the Huasteca region (San Louis Potosí and Veracruz) came to Zacatecas on scholarship to study at a college preparatory school (in Spanish of course, not Nahuatl). The goal of the program was to enable young indigenous people to complete a high school education and then matriculate at a college of their choosing. Before too long, there was a good sized population of Nahuatl-speaking students living and studying (and in some cases, living and working) in Zacatecas. In 1992, John Sullivan moved to Zacatecas (already having completed a PhD and knowing Nahuatl) and discovered this diaspora community of Nahuas, met the program's co-founder, a native speaker from Veracruz named Delfina de la Cruz, and founded IDIEZ (Instituto de Docenia e Investigación Etnológica de Zacatecas). The goal of IDIEZ was and is to bring native speaking and non-native speaking students together at the Autonomous University of Zacatecas to conduct investigative research into the language and culture of Nahuatl-speaking peoples with the express purpose of "revitalizing" (not preserving - that sounds too much like a museum exhibit) Nahua culture and language in Mexico today.
What is so significant about this goal and this program? A few things come to mind:
1. The history of indigenous peoples of Mexico has been exclusively written by non-indigenous peoples. The scholars who research, teach, and write about indigenous peoples and their culture and history are by and large mestizo (if Mexican) or American/European scholars. This program aims to train indigenous researchers and scholars to be able to conduct research, publish papers, write books, or teach their own history and culture. Think of it: for (virtually) the first time since the early colonial era (when there were some indigenous historians and scholars), indigenous peoples are beginning to reclaim their historical voice and make an entirely different and critically important contribution to the history of their own peoples! This is not only exciting, it's vital.
2. This program links Nahuatl language and culture from the colonial period to Nahuatl language and culture of today. This link is critical because for the most part it has been severed. By and large, Nahuas of today (those macehuallmeh from the villages) have very little idea about their own history, that they HAVE a history beyond the traditions and beliefs which have survived by being passed down through the generations. This program reconnects these two worlds (the ancient and the modern) through education, research, language training, and scholarship. Nahua students learn that these are not two histories, but one.
3. For non-indigenous students (like me) there are many benefits of such a program. I have previously cited a number: exposure to native speakers and learning the intricacies of pronunciation, the benefits on my own research and scholarship of having first-hand knowledge of the culture of today's Nahuas, etc. But I think that perhaps the most important reason for attending such a program is the following. Indigenous languages and cultures are being lost at an alarming rate all across Mexico (and the world). There isn't that much being done about it, either. (John Sullivan reports to me that the Mexican government isn't interested in indigenous languages. Period.) Even if all the native-speaking graduates of this program were to go out and do scholarship, publish, and speak about their history, language, and culture, there is NO WAY it would be able to stem to tide of language extinction. Simply put: in order to counteract this loss, any and all qualified help is needed. White, North American scholars (like me) are a necessary part of the effort to save (revitalize?) indigenous histories. Hence this program, hence my interest in Nahuatl, hence my being in Zacatecas this summer!
¡hasta moztla todos!
The indigenous peoples of Mexico and those of the United States share some similarities (you know, having their lands seized by invading Europeans and the ensuing oppression, forced assimilation, death, etc., etc.) However, there are significant differences worth noting. To be an Indian in the United States, one need only be able to claim blood relation. One can be one-quarter or one-sixteenth Indian and be accepted as such. While some still live on reservations, Indians of modern-day America (at least in the northeast) for the most part look and talk and dress like you and me. In Mexico, Indian identity is a radically different thing. Yes, blood matters. However, in the eyes of Mexico’s indigenous peoples, one must be 100% Indian to be Indian. If you even have one non-Indian blood relative, you are not Indian. But there’s much more.
The most salient identifying marks of the Indian from point of view of both Indians and non-Indians in Mexico are: skin color (dark, not light), where you live (rural, not urban), socio-economic status (poor, not middle class or rich), and most of all, language (indigenous, not Spanish). In fact, the word the indigenous peoples of Mexico use to name themselves is not "indio" but "macehualli", which is Nahuatl for "poor commoner, peon." If one doesn’t fit these characteristics, if, for example, an Indian leaves the village, moves to the city, adopts an urban lifestyle, dress, and speech, they are no longer Indian, they are now mestizo. Of course, it is precisely this process, young Indians leaving the village for the city, losing their language and their traditions, that is happening all across Mexico today and is resulting in the astonishing loss of indigenous language and culture.
However, can you blame them? To be Indian in Mexico, today and since the 16th century has been synonymous with being poor, uneducated, without opportunities for advancement or access to many privileges of society, and more often than not, the object of outright oppression, violence, and some would even say, genocidal programs aimed at forced assimilation or eradication. The pressure on indigenous peoples to assimilate continues to be strong and manifests itself in everything from government policy to racist attitudes among the non-Indian population.
The Program
When I tell people from Mexico that I am in Zacatecas to learn to speak Nahuatl, they all reply, "Zacatecas? Why Zacatecas? No body speaks Nahuatl here. You should try Veracruz." It's true. In general, there is no indigenous Nahuatl-speaking population currently living in the state of Zacatecas. (Although there used to be. Back in the colonial period this was a major Nahua area. In fact, one of the documents we have been working on translating here is a 17th century petition from a town called Tlaltenango, which is in Zacatecas. It's is written by the Nahuatl-speaking elders of the town in Nahuatl to the bishop of Zacatecas.) But the question is a valid one: why study Nahuatl in Zacatecas? The story goes like this:
About 15 years ago, a small group of Nahua teenagers from the Huasteca region (San Louis Potosí and Veracruz) came to Zacatecas on scholarship to study at a college preparatory school (in Spanish of course, not Nahuatl). The goal of the program was to enable young indigenous people to complete a high school education and then matriculate at a college of their choosing. Before too long, there was a good sized population of Nahuatl-speaking students living and studying (and in some cases, living and working) in Zacatecas. In 1992, John Sullivan moved to Zacatecas (already having completed a PhD and knowing Nahuatl) and discovered this diaspora community of Nahuas, met the program's co-founder, a native speaker from Veracruz named Delfina de la Cruz, and founded IDIEZ (Instituto de Docenia e Investigación Etnológica de Zacatecas). The goal of IDIEZ was and is to bring native speaking and non-native speaking students together at the Autonomous University of Zacatecas to conduct investigative research into the language and culture of Nahuatl-speaking peoples with the express purpose of "revitalizing" (not preserving - that sounds too much like a museum exhibit) Nahua culture and language in Mexico today.
What is so significant about this goal and this program? A few things come to mind:
1. The history of indigenous peoples of Mexico has been exclusively written by non-indigenous peoples. The scholars who research, teach, and write about indigenous peoples and their culture and history are by and large mestizo (if Mexican) or American/European scholars. This program aims to train indigenous researchers and scholars to be able to conduct research, publish papers, write books, or teach their own history and culture. Think of it: for (virtually) the first time since the early colonial era (when there were some indigenous historians and scholars), indigenous peoples are beginning to reclaim their historical voice and make an entirely different and critically important contribution to the history of their own peoples! This is not only exciting, it's vital.
2. This program links Nahuatl language and culture from the colonial period to Nahuatl language and culture of today. This link is critical because for the most part it has been severed. By and large, Nahuas of today (those macehuallmeh from the villages) have very little idea about their own history, that they HAVE a history beyond the traditions and beliefs which have survived by being passed down through the generations. This program reconnects these two worlds (the ancient and the modern) through education, research, language training, and scholarship. Nahua students learn that these are not two histories, but one.
3. For non-indigenous students (like me) there are many benefits of such a program. I have previously cited a number: exposure to native speakers and learning the intricacies of pronunciation, the benefits on my own research and scholarship of having first-hand knowledge of the culture of today's Nahuas, etc. But I think that perhaps the most important reason for attending such a program is the following. Indigenous languages and cultures are being lost at an alarming rate all across Mexico (and the world). There isn't that much being done about it, either. (John Sullivan reports to me that the Mexican government isn't interested in indigenous languages. Period.) Even if all the native-speaking graduates of this program were to go out and do scholarship, publish, and speak about their history, language, and culture, there is NO WAY it would be able to stem to tide of language extinction. Simply put: in order to counteract this loss, any and all qualified help is needed. White, North American scholars (like me) are a necessary part of the effort to save (revitalize?) indigenous histories. Hence this program, hence my interest in Nahuatl, hence my being in Zacatecas this summer!
¡hasta moztla todos!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Job Description and Overview of an Average Day
This summer, Rivers students are embarking on a variety of interesting and challenging adventures, from doing community service abroad to attending prestigious music camps. Throughout the coming months, we will be periodically checking in with a handful of students to learn more about their experiences. Today, we hear from Emily Hoberman, who is working at the Children’s Hospital this summer.
This summer I am volunteering at Children's Hospital in Boston for two days each week, Tuesday and Wednesday. I work for the Child Life Specialist, and have a variety of jobs on the floor such as holding and rocking babies to sleep and playing with young kids in the playroom. The floor is for children ranging from babies that are just ten days old to kids that are seven years old. While doing a job such as rocking a baby to sleep may seem easy and relaxing, it is actually the opposite, and can be emotionally draining. The kids are very sick, and generally come right from surgery. Although it can be tiring, it is a job that I truly enjoy doing, as it is comforting to see a baby fall asleep in your arms and watch a young child play with toys such as Playdough and baby dolls.
An average day at work consists of arriving in Boston by 9 :00 AM, and cleaning the floor's playroom and dirty toys for about 30 minutes. During the next four hours, I will usually hold three to four babies for approximately one hour each. After taking a quick lunch break, I come back to the playroom by 2 :00 PM, and work on an art project that the Child Life Specialist needs help with (e.g., painting the babies' feet, and putting the prints on paper to make July 4th cards.) After this, and for the last two hours, I will either hold more babies or play with the older children. Playing with the children who are between three and seven years old can be difficult, as they easily lose interest in the activities that they are engaged in. I usually walk around the floor with them, read them books, or do an art project with them. I have worked for three weeks on this floor, and am loving everything about it!
An average day at work consists of arriving in Boston by 9 :00 AM, and cleaning the floor's playroom and dirty toys for about 30 minutes. During the next four hours, I will usually hold three to four babies for approximately one hour each. After taking a quick lunch break, I come back to the playroom by 2 :00 PM, and work on an art project that the Child Life Specialist needs help with (e.g., painting the babies' feet, and putting the prints on paper to make July 4th cards.) After this, and for the last two hours, I will either hold more babies or play with the older children. Playing with the children who are between three and seven years old can be difficult, as they easily lose interest in the activities that they are engaged in. I usually walk around the floor with them, read them books, or do an art project with them. I have worked for three weeks on this floor, and am loving everything about it!
-Emily Hoberman
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