The Importance of Linguistic Heritage in a World of Globalisation
By Wesley Chen, Caulfield Grammar
Five years ago, in a world before COVID, I found myself standing face to face with my grandpa. He was visiting from China on a holiday trip, and decided to stop by Melbourne to see us. It had been almost a decade since he last visited. I still remember those first words he said to me at that family reunion. He said, “Xiao hai zi zhe me da la?”. I stared back at him blankly. We stood there silently. At that moment, I realised that I couldn’t understand him.
Since that interaction with my grandpa, I knew I had to do something about it - about the embarrassment I felt - about the frustration of not being able to speak to my own grandpa. I spent two years in middle school studying Chinese, and in my spare time I visited art galleries and museums to read more about my culture. I came to learn that my grandpa was commenting on how much I’ve grown since the last time he saw me. In reflection, it’s a regrettable reality of how quickly, first generation immigrants lose connection with their culture.
Chinese festivals were never a big part of my family’s calendar. I would often realise an event on the day it occurred, and celebrations didn’t go beyond a trip to the park. As a small child, I loved going on these walks – especially during the windy days of April, when I would fly my bright red kite, which I affectionately named, Bob. Without even knowing it, I was actually participating in the hallmark tradition of kite flying, which Qingming Festival is known for. Mesmerised in my adventures with Bob, I had little idea of the deeper significance of commemorating passed ancestors.
Much later, I also learned that Qingming Festival is not just a cultural holiday, but also marks an extraordinary intellectual achievement. Through observing the sun’s position in the sky, the Ancient Chinese created 24 solar terms to explain seasonal changes in their environment. Qingming, one of the solar terms, signals the most optimal time for farmers to start ploughing and sowing for Spring. When we lose the ability to communicate in a certain language, we lose the chance to learn about the traditional wisdom of that culture – knowledge which has been distilled and refined through countless generations.
Moreover, the impact of language loss extended beyond just my family life. I remember the summer of 2020, when I visited my local community’s Lantern Festival. To my dismay, I felt estranged. Like a tourist disembarking from a plane in a foreign country, I felt welcomed as an outsider. I couldn’t speak to the dragon dancers in my heritage language, and I relied on a hybrid of English and Chinese to order my dumplings. Once again, I found myself embarrassed, and isolated. Language is essential to community living; and more importantly, to acquire a sense of belonging.
But my personal identity crisis is a small fraction of how our world is gravitating away from tradition, and the value of heritage is slowly diminishing. This movement began during the Age of Discovery in the 15th Century. The greatest impact that resulted from this time was the rise of colonialism, which still exists today. One effect of colonialism was the marginalisation of minority languages – and by extension, their speakers. Those living under Britain’s colonial rule were taught to read and write in English. It was a method which claimed to educate, but was in fact a means of systematically eradicating entire cultures.
This phenomenon was experienced by communities across the world, but none so much as those which occupied Australia before the settlers. Indigenous Australians not only faced physical abuse, but they were also culturally oppressed by having their language rights taken away. English was imposed on them against their free will, and the youth were taught to reject their traditional values for those of Britain’s. Fortunately, we’ve come to understand just how morally incorrect this was. But the damage is yet to be repaired. Since 1991, the percentage of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who spoke a native language at home declined from 16.5% to 9.5% - and the trend continues.
The essence of cultural preservation lies within the ability to sustain language. And practicing traditional languages, whether written or spoken, is a fundamental right. In support of this view, the United Nations created the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights in 1996, a document which outlined the freedom to communicate in any language of choosing. It states: “Different languages and different ways of speaking are not only a means of communication, they are also the mileu (a person’s social environment) in which humans grow and cultures are built”. This means that language and culture are intrinsically tied together. Therefore, denying one’s language would be equivalent to violating their human rights.
But the road to recovery isn’t so simple.
As a product of the colonial age, English has become too widespread - so widespread that it has become a means to achieving a successful career. In the 21st century, the choice to learn English, isn’t really a choice anymore. Take Singapore for example. In 1987, it adopted English as an official language, given its importance for business, diplomacy, and technology. Their school’s now use English to teach most subjects, including math, science, and even history. This decision was made by the government out of the interest for economic gain.
But Singapore’s language evolution is coming at a tremendous cost. Whilst the nation is increasing getting better at their English, other traditionally spoken languages are slowly waning. Of the four official languages, English is by far the most spoken in Singaporean homes, whilst Malay and Tamil barely combine to make just one-tenth of the population. Like Australia, they too are suffering the loss of cultural heritage.
Roughly 6,500 languages are still being spoken today, but sadly more and more are on the path to extinction. Clearly, something must change. If we want to keep living in a culturally diverse world, we must protect minority groups, and it begins with their language. For any young person like myself who has lost touch with their heritage, I urge you to reconnect with your culture. Although I can’t say I’ve fully done so myself, I’m a whole lot closer than I was 5 years ago. I’m now able to have conversations with my grandfather, and he still comments on how much I’ve grown.