Tlingit culture, language lives on through heritage learners

It gets so heavy, sometimes you just want to put it down is how Virginia Oliver describes preserving the Tlingit language.

"You want to cry," she said, "because it feels like your brain is going to explode. But then, your Elders just tell you, 'It's too heavy right now, just put it down for a little while and pick it back up.'"

The international Endangered Languages Project and a U.N. agency estimate there are 200 fluent Tlingit speakers left, but the majority of the sources for that data are a decade old, Oliver said.

She estimates there were 50 remaining in 2021. "That is how fast our people are perishing."

The majority of people who speak Tlingit today are heritage learners – people who are sitting down and spending time with the remaining Native speakers to learn, record and practice, Oliver said.

Those heritage learners might number in the 200s, she said. That doesn't mean they are fluent, "it just means that we are ever learning our language."

And she said dormant speakers, people who understand Tlingit but can't speak it, could number more.

Oliver, whose Tlingit name is Xwaanlein (the frost on the beach when the glacier passes over), said she grew up in Wrangell. Her mother and grandparents were fluent speakers. Her grandparents died when she was about 8 years old.

Looking back, Oliver, who is in her 60s, wished she had done more, but said she's doing what she can at this stage in her life.

"I kept wanting to have a life," she said. "Get married, take care of my kids. Try to look beautiful. Do this and that. I really should have put more time into learning the language."

Her efforts have been prolific.

Oliver teaches Tlingit language through podcasts at KSTK radio, and lessons and storytelling at the elementary, middle and high schools.

She has been a judge at Tlingit spelling bees and conducted drumming circles at fish camps where adults and children exchange culture and language, discovering where they fit into a rich history.

The pandemic has hurt Tlingit preservation efforts, Oliver said. Before, "we were meeting merrily in person, teaching, dancing, singing, going to language workshops."

Now, "We have Elders in their 80s, they can't hear very well or see, and they are not very computer savvy," Oliver said. "They are struggling with Zoom. Even me, working in the school, I have a heck of a time with technology. We ... haven't been able to see them for two years face-to-face."

"We are spending 20 to 25 minutes on an hour-long Zoom not teaching but walking our Elders through a computer," she said. The Elders are not stopping. "They're still in their 80s and they're still working," Oliver said.

She also enjoys passing on the culture as well as the language to young students.

"They don't know that there is eagle and raven moiety," she said. "They don't know that there are trade routes, that there are 10 clans – five eagles and five ravens."

Preserving the traditional knowledge of medicinal uses for plants is another way Tlingit culture lives on.

Tammi Meissner is a health educator for SEARHC. Her Tlingit name is X'atshaawditee. She said it was given to her by Elder Carol Brady, and it means "killer whale who finds food for the group."

And that is what she does – Meissner shows areas around Wrangell where plants known to the Tlingit people grow, either edible or replete with medicinal value and uses.

Just before the stairs and gravel leading down to Petroglyph Beach, "old man's beard" grows on the trees. Meissner pulled a piece, which dangled like stringy moss.

Pieces can be torn from the trees to wrap around a finger or limb in case of a cut, she said. Old man's beard has a bit of give to it, like a wrap bandage – it stretches.

The plant has anti-septic properties, she said.

Closer to the airport, Meissner found little round red berries in the muskeg called bog berries. Amid the bog berries is a plant called Hudson Bay tea, or labrador tea, good for sore throat and chest ailments.

Meissner flipped the leaves over in the palm of her hand, exposing the furry orange underside. She said you have to make sure they have that orange fuzz, because another plant that looks similar is actually poisonous, and can be confused with the tea.

In her office, Meissner keeps a bag of "Tlingit popcorn," dried black seaweed. She said her tribe in Wrangell barters hooligan with people in Kake for the treasured seaweed, also referred to as black gold.

Keeping those bartering and foraging traditions alive is important to Meissner to pass on to her children, and the Tlingit people in Wrangell, known as Ḵaachx̱aana.áakʼw before colonization, which she has done through organizing culture camps for adults and children.

Meissner said it's heartening to see youth applying what they learned, and giving their Elders part of their subsistence gathering.

"It's important to not overharvest. We are supposed to be stewards of the land," she said. "When we gather items and smoke fish, we would make trips to Elders' houses and drop things off. The best thing that came out of that program was, not only the exchange of culture, but also the giving."