The entire idea of a “footprint” is that each individual action doesn’t make any perceptible difference to the larger problem. This is a truism, not a rebuttal. The earth can’t tell whether I leave my lights burning all night, or whether I drove to the shops when I could have walked; but it does know if half or one-tenth of the people on the planet are doing those things routinely. And one single person taking one single action (learning a languge, for example), isn’t going to suddenly overturn linguistic dominance and colonialism overnight. It gets lost in the noise.

What can make a difference is if everyone, or a large proportion of people, started paying attention and reducing their own, minuscule, imperceptible footprints. They add up. No one gives a rat’s arse that you read a phrasebook on the plane? Sure. This is obvious. If every single person on that plane and on every plane thereafter read a phrasebook, made an effort to learn about non-dominant perspectives on country and culture and language, developed a true respect for those things, voted according to anti-colonialist principles, employed interpreters rather than expecting to be catered for, made relevant donations to action groups, perhaps got involved in a little activism, and so on and so forth? This could make a difference.

It’s a footprint; not a revolution driven by a single individual, and not a magical band-aid.

Actually, compiling all of these terms (Koori, Murri, Noongar, Bininj) and verifying their geographical range of use would be quite an interesting exercise!

Sounds like yet another job for Google Earth!

The West Australian Education department has recently developed a set of guidelines for referring to Aboriginal people, as part of its Aboriginal Perspectives Across the Curriculum project.

A report on this document in the Australian states, “Along with more obvious terms to be avoided, such as “black”, “white” and “half-caste”, the document says “Aborigine” should not be used, and “Aboriginal person” used instead.”

So, perhaps blackfella isn’t to be recommended as a cover-all term, though it is widespread as an insider term.

RE: Andrew Warinner

I agree with Putek thatthe example of talking to a waiter in a tourist area is *exactly* language imperialism (especially in the post-colonial and third- and fourth-world contexts), and has a great influence on one’s language footprint. The waiter’s job (and economic security) depends upon their competence in a dominant language. The more locals who can do business with tourists in one (if not several) dominant languages, the more established the area becomes as a tourist destination. The more tourists who visit, the more incentive and pressure on locals to learn dominant languages, to the extent that they may only teach dominant languages to their children to ensure their economic success. This is why Peter Austin and others at ELDP recommend (speed-)learning the local language before you arrive, or not travelling to areas where your tourist dollar may have this influence.

And I think the idea of a ‘language footprint’ is quite profound and has far greater intention to initiate change in people’s linguistic practice than merely ‘generate awareness’ – the same could be said for the ‘carbon footprint’ metaphor.

Re: Jangari

Koori is used as a self-referring term by Aboriginal people in most of South-East Australia. It’s used in all of Victoria, for example, as far as I’m aware. Actually, compiling all of these terms (Koori, Murri, Noongar, Bininj) and verifying their geographical range of use would be quite an interesting exercise!

As for my own language footprint? I wonder whether it’s really as small as I would like to think. I’m a native English speaker in Australia. I speak Dutch, German, Spanish and a bit of Portuguese and French. These are all European, of course. I also document Australian indigenous languages, one in particular: Dalabon. I can speak it fairly comfortably now, but more often than not, speak Kriol or English with the Dalabon people I work with. While all the documentation activity may reduce my language footprint, speaking Kriol with Dalabon people surely undoes most of that ‘good’ work.

For those who are interested in learning an Australian language, yet feel entirely removed from the possibility, there are a few good opportunities to do so. David mentioned learning Yolngu Matha – these are the languages from North-eastern Arnhem Land, and can be studied online through Charles Darwin University.

Ngapartji Ngapartji is a Pitjantjatjara language-learning site, and art project.

Institute for Aboriginal Development in Alice Springs used to offer language learning courses for languages in the centre. My grandparents learnt some Pitjantjatjara there many years ago! I’m not sure if they still do, though they are churning out dictionaries and learners’ guides!

Diwurruwurru-jaru Aboriginal Corporation (the Katherine Aboriginal Language Centre) offers regular Kriol Language awareness courses. Kriol is an English-based creole spoken throughout the Top End and Kimberley, and has various dialects.

To respond to the last comment, though, actually, asking a waiter for service in your native language, presumably a dominant language like English, in an area that otherwise sees little to no use of that language (SE Asia, for instance) is exactly what is meant by linguistic imperialism.

I would suggest, also, that while Switzerland may serve as a case study of some kind, the situation there doesn’t (no pun intended) translate well to contexts like Australia, Canada, or more recently post-colonial environments, since the injury connected to the “lingual foot-stepping” is of a different nature. It’s not that dissimilar to the Canadian experience with our two official languages, I guess, but the linguistic footprint of both English and French speaking Canadians is going to be high, since they haven’t even begun to think about, say, the impact of their language choices on Cree, Dene or Mohawk. I speak French well enough that I would use only French in a predominantly French area (surprisingly rare in most of English Canada), but I would score myself as having a very heavy footprint.

Yes, you could see Switzerland as a case study in language footprints.

With four official languages (German, French, Italian and Romansh), there are lots of opportunities for stepping on lingual feet.

A small anecdote: the first time we moved out of Switzerland, the moving company sent a team of French speakers from Geneva and a team of German speakers from somewhere on the other side of the Rostigraben (the French-German language divide in Switzerland).

The German speakers claimed they didn’t speak French but had some limited command of English. The French speakers claimed they didn’t speak German or English.

So we had to act as UN referees for the two teams, translating for them and coordinating the work.

Swiss schools teach the other Swiss national languages, so the ignorance is often feigned. The choice of spoken language in Switzerland is often sensitive. A German speaker and French speaker will often compromise on speaking English as “neutral” language.

If the point of “language footprint” is making tourists aware that there are other languages in the world, it is useful, but not exactly a profound insight. Any tourist that doesn’t learn the minimal courtesy phrases in the lo cal language risks rude service and frustration but is not going to contribute to any cultural damage.

If the point of “language footprint” is making locals aware different cultures in the neighborhood, then the notion is unlikely to trump local history.

Seeing as you’re in Switzerland, I Have Heard that folks from the French-speaking and German-speaking cantons often don’t bother to speak Italian when they visit Ticino? There’s a language footprint right there.

Good point, too, on the difference between supporting and learning Indigenous languages – though again, I come up against the question of how a middle-class white girl without much contact with any sort of Indigenous population or group can give any sort of practical help beyond donations of time and money, or letter-writing in support of these.