Family at the Heart of Chickasaw Language Reclamation

Located in south- central Oklahoma, the Chickasaw Nation faces unprecedented language loss. Because of colonization and forced assimilation, the intergenerational transmission of the Chickasaw language—Chikashshanompa’—has been interrupted in families, leading to devastating and rapid language decline. In 1994 there were an estimated one thousand Chikashshanompa’ speakers.¹ Currently, there are about seventy remaining speakers, all of whom are elders.² While a small but increasing number of second-language learners speak the language at a level of conversational fluency, new generations do not speak Chikashshanompa’ as a first language.³ As a result, community members are growing increasingly aware of the urgency surrounding language loss and the necessity for language reclamation. Currently, a small group of dedicated Chickasaw citizens and allies are working to restore Chikashshanompa’ as a healthy and vibrant language of the community. Significantly, family has emerged as being at the heart of their efforts.

This article examines intergenerational perspectives on the importance of Chikashshanompa’ to Chickasaw families. I begin with an autoethnographic account of my own efforts to learn Chikashshanompa’ and the responsibility I have in ensuring its continuance. Next, a brief historical account of language loss in the community demonstrates the impact of this historical trauma on Chickasaw families. A discussion of contemporary Chickasaw language work situated within the theoretical concepts of language reclamation, survivance, and linguistic responsibility follows. Culturally grounded research methods frame my analysis of emerging themes, including (1) elders’ desire to ensure Chickasaw survivance through the language, (2) parents’ responsibility to pass the language to their children, and (3) young people’s yearning to speak Chikashshanompa’ and developing consciousness of Chickasaw identity.

“chikashsha saya”

My Chickasaw ancestors spoke Chikashshanompa’ in southeastern homelands given to them by Aba’binni’li’, the One Who Sits Above. While first European contact imposed unprecedented change on Chickasaw society, my ancestors continued to speak Chikashshanompa’. By the turn of the nineteenth century, however, the federal government had grown increasingly hostile toward American Indian peoples as the United States pursued its vision of Manifest Destiny and the taking of Indigenous lands. In the late 1830s, my great- great-great-grandparents were forcibly removed from their homelands to Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). Their children, who attended boarding schools in Indian Territory, were among the last generation in my family to speak Chikashshanompa’. Raised outside of the Chickasaw Nation, I did not hear my heritage language spoken as a child.

My interest in learning Chikashshanompa’ developed as I entered young adulthood. As an undergraduate, I gravitated toward American Indian studies because it was a space on campus that affirmed and allowed me to develop my identity as a Chickasaw person. Reading Keith Basso’s Wisdom Sits in Places, about Western Apache language and place making, kindled my interest in Indigenous languages and inspired me to seek my own language.⁴ To this end, I participated in a summer internship through the Chickasaw Nation. My position with the Division of History and Culture afforded me opportunities to research Chikashshanompa’ and, importantly, take language classes.

Sitting in a small room with a group of elder fluent speakers and other language learners, I heard my heritage language spoken for the first time. As we practiced saying words and phrases, I became increasingly conscious of the vital role of language in the continuance of Chickasaw culture and identity. Early in my Chikashshanompa’ class, I learned to say the phrase, “Chikashsha saya” (I am Chickasaw). While I had spoken these words many times in English, my life was forever changed when I said them in the language of my ancestors. I realized that my identity as a Chickasaw person was not adequately expressed through English. The far-reaching impact of colonization and the enduring pressures of assimilation had prevented me from knowing my language and, thus, fully knowing myself. Reclaiming this ability became a driving force behind my desire to learn my heritage language and pursue language reclamation as both a field of academic study and a potential career.

As a Chickasaw person and language learner, my experiences are inseparable from my research about Chikashshanompa...