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Sylbo, The Last Speakers of the Lost Whistling Language | TIME

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Aprendimos esta semana sobre lenguas moribundas específicamente lenguas indígenas. En mi experiencia, he sido expuesto a este tema más frecuentemente en los últimos años. Por ejemplo, adjunto un video sobre Sylbo, un lengua silbadora de Canarias Español. También adjunto un artículo sobre los efectos de inmigración y migración en las lenguas indígenas. En el artículo, menciona que ser un inmigrante es un factor de idiomas morirse. Por aquellos que solo hablan una lengua indígena, es casi imposible practicarla y sobrevivir en los Estados Unidos porque la población de indígenas es muchos menos comparado con la población de hispanohablantes. Ellos no pueden regresar a sus propias tierras y países porque son inmigrantes sin documentales.
Sabemos de mestizxs y que hay muchas personas latinas que son mestizxs pero no oímos mucho sobre la lengua indígena. Me pregunto si la situación mejorará por ellos (aquellos que hablan lenguas indígenas). ¿Hay una manera ayudarlos?

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HOMESTEAD, FL - Her name is Spanish in origin, but for Juana Sales, a migrant farm-worker from the Guatemalan high lands, it hardly reflects her cultural identity.

Ten years ago, when Sales arrived in Homestead, an agricultural area in South Florida, she only spoke Mam - a Mayan language that dates back to the year 500. The obscure tongue, which is mostly spoken in Guatemala and Mexico, is classified by the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as vulnerable to becoming extinct.

Since then, Sales has learned a heavily accented, broken Spanish and a little English. She has 4 children who were born in the U.S., but none of them have shown interest in speaking their mother's tongue.

Salas is one of a growing number of U.S. Latinos who speak ancient Mesoamerican languages, some of which are considered critically endangered of becoming extinct. According to the 2010 census, over 685,000 Latinos in the U.S. identified themselves as American Indian, up from around 400,000 in 2000. Experts agree the number is much higher but many indigenous speakers don't report to the census because of immigration status and stigmas.

Most of the indigenous speaking Latinos in the U.S. are from Mexico, Guatemala and other Central American countries, although hundreds of indigenous languages are spoken all over Latin America. Through the centuries, languages have been lost for a number of reasons, primarily during the Spanish colonization period. These days, though, scholars cite cultural isolation and discrimination that comes with migration - in many cases from Spanish-speaking Hispanics - that is leading to the loss of languages that once reigned throughout Latin America.

According to Patricia Baquedano-Lopez, a professor of Social and Cultural Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, the loss of language starts as soon as indigenous Latin Americans migrate internally before coming to the U.S. For instance, the indigenous groups she has studied from Yucatan first migrate to Cancun and Merida before making their way to California and other parts of the U.S.

"Merida and Cancun act as training centers before coming to the U.S.," said Baquedano-Lopez, who is of Maya ancestry.

In these cities, they already begin to lose their language because it's no longer important - they need Spanish and later English in order to survive. "Any kind of contact brings in the possibility of losing home languages," added Baquedano Lopez.

In these cities, they already begin to lose their language because it's no longer important - they need Spanish and later English in order to survive.

Once they arrive in the U.S., their language becomes irrelevant in their new surroundings. Because many of them are undocumented they cannot travel home to see their families, making them culturally more isolated than your average Spanish-speaking Latino.

If the current migration patterns continue for years to come, they will have a serious negative impact on many languages, according to Pamela Munro, Professor of Linguistics at the University of California, Los Angeles.

"When they come here they don't have many opportunities to speak the language and don't speak it to their children, and all contributes to language loss," Munro said.

Many of those who come to the U.S. make money and then return to their communities, but with children who don't speak the native language. That tends to change the indigenous speaking population even more, according to Munro.

Otto Schumann-Galvez, a professor of Mayan languages at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, adds that many indigenous speakers are subjected to ridicule by Spanish speaking Latinos in the U.S. - something they constantly faced in their own countries.

In 2012, the California Oxnard school district banned the use of the racially charged word "Oaxaquita" -or little Oaxacan - a derogatory term that students were using to refer to those from Mexico's Oaxaca state. Indigenous students were being teased and bullied by other Mexican students, leaving them embarrassed to speak their native tongue.

"We acquire self-hating mechanisms. It's really dramatic," said Baquedano-Lopez.

"Many children see what their parents have suffered for being indigenous and they don't want the same for themselves," said Schumann-Galvez.

Indigenous people, often viewed as a minority within a minority by the larger Latino community, face an enormous amount of challenges and obstacles.

Juan Hernandez, came from Oaxaca 30 years ago speaking Mixtec, which is considered "definitely endangered" by UNESCO. Only knowing a few words in Spanish, he says he had a difficult time adapting.

"People take advantage when they know you can't come up with the words to defend yourself," said Hernandez, who now speaks perfect Spanish.

As a farmworker picking seasonal vegetables, Hernandez said most of the people who discriminated against him were Spanish-speaking Latinos who held managerial positions and would have him do extra work, threatening that he would be fired otherwise.

In 2001, Hernandez brought the rest of his family to Homestead. His son Agustin, who was 13 years-old when he came, speaks Mixtec, Spanish, and English, but says he prefers Spanish.

"Honestly, I prefer Spanish. I express myself better in Spanish, I like Spanish, and I feel more comfortable in Spanish," said the younger Hernandez.

If the current migration patterns continue for years to come, they will have a serious negative impact on many languages,

Like his parents, he works in agriculture and says he has seen plenty of discrimination - more so from Latinos than from Americans.

Levis Torres, who works for We Count!, a local organization in Homestead that helps immigrant farm-workers, says at least half of the people that walk through their doors seeking help speak little or no Spanish and few have had any formal schooling.

To help them integrate, We Count! teaches newly arrived immigrants the alphabet with Spanish classes, then English classes, and lastly computer classes. They also offer training in legal rights and how to avoid being exploited.

"These people are abused and lied to more ... especially when it comes to their salary" said Torres.

Baquedano-Lopez was quick to point out there are successful, professional indigenous people in the U.S. - not everyone works in agriculture. Hernandez's daughter is studying nursing and his son is looking to enroll in culinary school. Discrimination has not had an effect on how he perceives his culture. "I'm very proud of who I am, of my customs, and my languages."

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With Migration, Indigenous Languages Going Extinct

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HOMESTEAD, FL - Her name is Spanish in origin, but for Juana Sales, a migrant farm-worker from the Guatemalan high lands, it hardly reflects her cultural identity. Ten years ago, when Sales arrived in Homestead, an agricultural area in South Florida, she only spoke Mam - a Mayan language that dates back to the year 500.

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Los artículos sobre MexiRicans en Chicago y Problemas de la lengua, cultura, y identidad de Centroamericanos en Los Ángeles me impulsó a encontrar más información sobre la población de Latinxs ahora en Los Ángeles. Me interesó porque soy de Los Ángeles pero también porque quería ver si las estadísticas sea lo mismo. Sin embargo, me encontré artículos sobre la población de los sin techos de Latinxs en Los Ángeles y cómo el problema está empeorando. El problema de los sin techos en Los Ángeles es muy malo y veo cada día el problema porque trabajo en el ayuntamiento. No sabía que el problema está afectando latinxs mucho más que otros. En el artículo por Los Angeles Times, dice que la estadística por latinxs fue 27% en 2016 pero en 2017 aumentó a 35%. Hilda Solis, Supervisor del Condado, dice que una razón es que es difícil por latinxs compartir sus problemas y no quieren pedir por ayuda. Muchos no buscan por ayuda de refugios y centros de extensión porque ellos confían en la ayuda de familia, amigos, e iglesias.
Pienso que una otra razón por no buscar ayuda es quizás que muchos de ellos no tienen papeles y tienen miedos de ser deportados. Creo que es también hay aquellos que no hablan inglés y por eso es más difícil por ellos saben donde conseguir ayuda.

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Timoteo Arevalos never imagined he'd end up here, loitering for hours on a bench at Hollenbeck Park in Boyle Heights, using his backpack as his pillow.

He used to have a government job, but the recession hit and he was laid off. He then tried to scrape by as a dishwasher, but last fall his hours were cut and he couldn't pay his rent.

Nearly every demographic, including youth, families and veterans, showed increases in homelessness, but Latinos delivered one of the sharpest rises, adding more than 7,000 people to the surge.

According to a study released by the Homeless Services Authority, renters living in Los Angeles are the most cost-burdened nationwide. More than 2 million households in L.A. and Orange counties have housing costs that exceed 30% of their income.

Latinos are particularly at risk, with many working up to two to three low-paying jobs to make ends meet. Those lacking legal status are more vulnerable these days as they struggle to find work and avoid public assistance, which they fear could flag them for eventual deportation.

Now, he receives $900 in unemployment, enough for food and clothes, but not quite to cover rent and bills. Most days, he sleeps in a secluded alley in Pico Rivera, not far from the roar of passing trains and cargo trucks. To bathe, he goes to Roosevelt High School's public pool.

"I'm frustrated and sad," Arevalos said. "Having to go up and down and starting over takes a lot out of you."

Countywide, an estimated 20% of Latinos live below the poverty level. Their average household income is about $47,000.

"This is a population that's already living under very difficult circumstances," said USC sociology professor Manuel Pastor. "When you increase rents, you really start to see a bigger impact."

In 2016, Latinos made up 27% of the county's homeless population; that number has rocketed to 35% in the last year. Latinos make up about 48% of the county's overall population. The percentage of white homeless people declined 2% in that time.

African Americans saw a slight increase in the number of homeless, but while they make up 9% of L.A. County's overall population, they still represent a disproportionate 40% of the county's homeless.

The supervisor said she hopes that the needs of homeless Latinos are taken into account as funds from Proposition HHH and Measure H are allocated over the next decade. The ballot measures approved by Los Angeles voters in November are expected to provide several billion dollars in housing, rent subsidies and services to the homeless.

"A lot of Latinos tend to come from tight-knit communities and don't like talking about how they're struggling," Solis said.

Many tend to not seek help from shelters and homeless outreach centers, such as the ones located in downtown L.A.'s skid row. They try to subsist, relying on relatives, friends, churches, clinics, all while living out of their car or in the street.

"We need service providers who reflect the community, who provide competent, culturally sensitive information in Spanish," Solis said.

At a church east of the Los Angeles River on a recent evening, nearly three dozen men sat around the courtyard, waiting for a warm meal and a place to spend the night. Most sleep in cots that line the church temple, near the altar and by the doors.

The men, all Latinos and some of them lacking legal status, have been coming here for nearly 30 years to seek emergency shelter.

Among them was Mario Martinez, 48, from Guatemala. He came to the U.S. when he was 17 years old.

He worked in factories and construction sites, eventually landing a job as a manager of a fabric and textile warehouse. He made $18 an hour.

Martinez and his girlfriend and their two children, ages 4 and 10, used to rent an apartment in Montebello for $1,400 a month.

"I had started from the bottom and worked my way up," he said.

But life took a turn and he and his girlfriend separated. Five years ago, he lost his job.

Work since then has been tough to come by and it's paid much less. When Martinez depleted his $15,000 in savings a few months ago, he ended up in the street.

He hopes part-time work through an employment agency will help him get back into an apartment soon.

"I'm the kind of person who takes life as it comes," Martinez said. "As long as you're healthy and able to work and get sleep, you're able to get back up."

The church also provides similar assistance to Latinas.

In other parts of the city, several districts that have experienced gentrification saw Latino homelessness rise. That includes Councilman Gil Cedillo's 1st District, where there was a 79% increase.

District 1 includes densely populated neighborhoods such as Pico-Union and Westlake, where many poor families crowd into high-rise apartments. The area's proximity to downtown has made it enticing for developers in recent years, pushing rents up for many people.

At the center of Westlake, MacArthur Park has become a go-to destination for homeless from across the region. Their tents are spread across the 32-acre park, creating an endless cycle that doesn't ease despite weekly outreach efforts conducted by Cedillo's office and numerous organizations.

"The problem is a lack of sufficient housing stock," Cedillo said. "People are very compassionate and concerned about the homeless, but what we need to do is get out of the developers' way and begin to create a process so people can build and neighbors need to embrace this."

In the winters, the organization opens a shelter, the only one in the neighborhood. This past year, Prine said the shelter was filled mostly with Latinos. Many of them held down full-time jobs. But they couldn't afford the rents. Others were older residents with fixed incomes.

"From one year to the next," Prine said, "the face of homelessness changed for us."

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Surge in Latino homeless population 'a whole new phenomenon' for Los Angeles

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Timoteo Arevalos never imagined he'd end up here, loitering for hours on a bench at Hollenbeck Park in Boyle Heights, using his backpack as his pillow. He used to have a government job, but the recession hit and he was laid off.

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Cuando piensa de Rodeos, ¿piensa de vaqueros occidentales o vaqueros latinos? Yo pensaba de vaqueras occidentales y las películas occidentales. Después de escuchar el podcast "Rodeo" por Latino USA, cambié mi pensamiento de rodeos. Pensaba que es un deporte muy americano. Menciona en el podcast que una empleada de Latino USA también pensaba eso. Los participantes dicen en respuesta, "American sport? Oh my God no! Rodeo is not just American. it's Mexican you know" "And Colombian too!" Es interesante que en el sudeste de los EE.UU, vaqueros todavía existe Y que muchos latinxs participan en rodeos espectáculos. En el podcast, ellos entrevistan una familia con un niño que aspira a ser un vaquero. La familia invierte mucho tiempo y recursos a él en apoyo pero ellos no tienen mucho dinero. Sin embargo, el rodeo es sus vidas y tienen el sueño que él será un ranchero exitoso.

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- Schwarz, Hunter. “You see, mutton busting is something for kids to do at rodeos.” BuzzFeed, www.buzzfeed.com/hunterschwarz/why-your-child-should-try-mutton-busting?sub=1991685_861535&utm_term=.kugLYGlPYV#.bt5OBrvjBW.
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