BGSU and Mingo join to restore native language
“It started with prayer,” says Georgia Adams, wife of Mingo Indian Chief Mike Adams. “We’ve been praying for a long time to get our ancestral language back and that the Creator would send us a way to do that.”

The long-awaited answer to the Mingos’ prayers came when the Adamses met linguist Jordan Latchler, who has spent 10 years learning the language from Thomas McElwaine, one of the fewer than five fluent speakers left and a West Virginia Mingo who learned it from his grandmother.

Through Latchler, they connected with his friends Sheri Wells-Jensen, English and interim director of the master’s degree program in Teaching English as a Second Language, and her husband, Jason, a TESL instructor, and a partnership was born.

With the help of a BGSU Partnerships for Community Action grant, the three are working with the Mingo to revitalize their nearly extinct language so that it may be passed on to the next generation. They already have ambitious plans for reintroducing the language to as many Mingo as possible.

Part of the challenge to accomplishing this is that the Mingo are distributed over such a large area of the country, from Kentucky to Quebec and from the Mississippi to the Hudson River, according to Sandy Andromeda, a tribal elder and historian who is writing a history of the people.

Andromeda, who wears the traditional Mingo pendant of ancient black rock, said that, in addition to geographical separation, the Mingo historically were separated from their language by the ruling whites, who forbade the speaking or teaching of indigenous languages in an effort to subjugate native peoples.

“Our language was forced and beaten out of us. It was unfairly taken, and I want it back,” said Georgia Adams, echoing the feelings of other members of the tribe.

The need to save their language goes beyond the words themselves, the Mingo say.

“Our children don’t have the language or history,” Georgia Adams said. “They may have some of our traditions, such as diet or certain beliefs, but they don’t know where they came from and what they mean. We want to stop the clock and reverse it. Children need to have pride and to understand some of the deep issues in their lives.”

To do this requires starting at the most basic level, and the process is mutual for the Wells-Jensens and the Mingo. They all have to learn the very difficult language before they can pass it on, and “Mingo is about as different from English as you can get,” Sheri Wells-Jensen said.

The sounds are challenging for an English speaker to produce, with many double vowels, glottal stops and nasal sounds. “These sounds are not familiar to us,” Georgia Adams said, though she has become quite good at producing them.

“Georgia has an amazing ability for language,” Sheri Wells-Jensen said admiringly.

Also, the syntax is completely different. There are no adjectives, and one word can express many qualities—male, female, single or multiple, and particularly that of belonging or not belonging. For example, the word “grandmother” can have any of a number of prefixes and suffixes that indicate, among other things, exactly whose grandmother one is speaking of.

“That’s an important concept in our culture, inclusion and exclusion,” Georgia Adams says.
Sheri Wells-Jensen and a group of graduate students meet at BGSU on Thursday evenings to learn Mingo, joined by as many Mingo as can come. The plan is to use these formal lessons to train a small group who will then go out and train others. They learn some Mingo stories written and recorded by McElwaine about the character of Rabbit, and practice singing folk-style songs in Mingo written and recorded by the Wells-Jensens.

“Music is a great way to learn a second language,” according to Sheri Wells-Jensen. “We’re using this as a testing period to see if this is the best way to teach the language,” she added.

The Mingo are beginning to integrate common greetings, words and phrases such as “Come here,” “Go to sleep,” “Eat this” into their everyday language, especially with the children, Georgia Adams said.
Some have adopted Mingo names. Hers translates as “She Who Listens,” while her daughter’s is “Little Wing.”

The next big plan is for a summer language camp during which children and families can experience an immersion in Mingo language. This camp would be in addition to the family camp the Mingo hold each year south of Findlay to reunite members of the tribe. The language-camp organizers are thinking of including trips to the BGSU Planetarium to learn the Mingo names for the constellations, and to the zoo, to learn animal names.
“It’s a miracle,” the chief says of all that has happened since the partners joined forces. He and his wife travel and work tirelessly to forge ties between the far-flung members of their tribe, and he is active in many historical projects such as the upcoming anniversary celebration of Lewis and Clark’s expedition to be held in October.
On a personal level, Georgia Adams looks forward to becoming fluent in the language that she senses will help express her deepest feelings. “I find English very confining,” she said, citing an example from one of the Rabbit stories in which a Mingo character who, when asked, ”Why don’t you just learn English?“ replies, “Why don’t I just go stick my head in a thimble?”

“As native people, we are thinking in more fluid ways compared to white people. I want to see the language come back because it will open an important door to how our ancestors were thinking, and I think a lot of spiritual things will be revealed. When I pray in Mingo, it’s a very liberating thing,” she said.