• "By God, not on my watch!" • Steve MacKinnon

• "Ach, bu chòir barrachd Gàidhlig a bhi ann a' seo" ("But, there should be more Gaelic here") • Lodaidh MacFhionghuin (Lewis MacKinnon)

• Betty Lord

• Neil Mac Lean

• Kyle Cameron

• Jill Campbell

• Bridget MacDougald

• Julie Gibson

• Jessica MacLennan

• Angus McLarty

• Wendy Murray

• Michael Ruxton

• Domhnall H. MacDhòmhnaill (Dan H. MacDonald)

• Roddy MacPhee

• "Did you hear the girl singing last night?" • Mary "Taigh Solas" MacLean

• "Memories of Gaelic" • Virginia MacIsaac

This is an old picture, which I cherish. It was taken at a party at my dad's home (Gardiner Mines, Cape Breton), back in the 1960s. Being the oldest of four boys I was allowed to stay up a little later that night, to watch the fun. In the picture my Granddad MacKinnon is seated on a long bench against the wall. He is flanked on his right by my dad, and on his left by another son, Martin. Squatting in front of him is my other Granddad, Joe "B." Boutilier. They are holding hands, swinging them in time as they sing an old Gaelic song. The musicians (off to the left), have stopped playing, and everyone is listening intently, with smiles all around. Somewhere off camera, I am also listening intently. It is my first experience of Gaelic, and I can remember it as if it was yesterday. That song captured me as surely as a first love captures the young man's eye.

Throughout my youth, I was fortunate enough to be exposed to a steady diet of Cape Breton music, step dance, and story telling -- but my instances of contact with Gaelic were rare. Indeed, most of my experience with Gaelic came from that great CBC program, Mac-talla 'n Eilein (Island Echoes). I was always fascinated by all aspects of Gaelic culture, particularly that of the Gaels in Cape Breton, and in Scotland. As I grew into an adult I actively studied as much of the history, music and culture as I possibly could. During this period I was always aware that I was missing an integral part of it all, namely, the language. I would come across tantalizing Gaelic phrases while reading the stirring accounts of Culloden, or the Clearances, and wistfully wonder what they really meant, and how they should be pronounced.

Eventually I realized that without the Gaelic language, I would never truly understand the Gaelic experience, and could never call myself a true Gael. I finally took the plunge several years back, beginning Gaelic language lessons, and have never regretted it. Since then I have come to realize that the music, poetry, and culture of the Gael are all based on the language, and are nothing without it. Allow me to make the following comparison. A boat is a beautiful thing, but without wind in her sails, it is simply an object. With the wind in her sails, however, it becomes a living, breathing creature. If I could compare Gaelic culture to that boat, then the Gaelic language is the wind in her sails. Without the Gaelic, it is all just some dry, inanimate object, fit only for a museum. But with the language … ahhh, it is all so alive!

As I began to learn this beautiful language, I pondered more and more on why I wasn't a native Gaelic speaker in the first place. What had happened? My Dad has no Gaelic whatsoever, and although both grandfathers may have sang that song, which captured my interest so long ago, neither spoke Gaelic that I can recall. Genealogy is a hobby of mine, and I know that Gaelic was the native tongue for most of my forebearers. The 1901 census for Boisdale, Cape Breton, shows that my great grandfather on the MacKinnon side, as well as my grandfather and his siblings, are all listed as having Gaelic under the heading of "Native Tongue". Indeed, almost all the people listed are showing as native Gaelic speakers. On my other grandfather Boutilier's side, I often wondered why someone with a French name loved the language and music of the Gael so dearly. The 1901 census also clears up that mystery, as I found that my great, great grandmother (Margaret MacNeil) is also listed as being a native Gaelic speaker. How did the loss of this language, in my family, as well as others, occur in so short a time? Finding the answers to these questions has led me to a deep appreciation of how close we have come to losing it altogether. That would be a tragedy too great for words.

So to return to the question: "Why the interest in Gaelic?"

It was that first song that I heard as a young boy. That simple seed planted so long ago (and for which I have my two Grandfathers to thank) has lain dormant long enough. Yes, that simple, enduring, ancient seed. It was almost stolen from me, and that makes me so angry! It has lasted through persecution and war, famine, exile and emigration. It has been ridiculed, and hounded, yet somehow, endured, tended by the old folk as best they could … to burst forth in the strained voices of those two old men, at that party so long ago. What else can I now do but care for it? With a little love and pride -- who knows what can happen? It has often been said, and is still said to this day -- that Gaelic is a "dying" language. Well, maybe so -- but by God, not on my watch!

Nuair a bha mis' òg, chuala mi Gàidhlig anns an taigh gu tric. Nuair a thàinig cuideiginn o Cheap Breatainn ' son cèilidh a dheanadh oirnn, bhiodh m' athair is bràthair mo sheanamhar a' seanachas comhla riutha anns a' Ghàidhlig an toiseach. Chuala mi a' Ghàidhlig, ach cha robh a' Ghàidhlig air bruidhinn anns an taigh rinn idir, ged a bha a' Ghàidhlig a' chiad chànan a chuala m' athair agus bràthair mo sheanamhar riamh. Nuair a bha iadsan a' fàs bha iomadh bacadh ris a' Ghàidhlig. Cha robh a' Ghàidhlig air teagasg is cha robh cead anns na sgoiltean ' son a' Ghàidhlig a bhruidhinn. Cha robh seirbheisean sam bith ann far am bi cothrom aig na Gàidheil ' son a' Ghàidhlig a chleachdadh. Mar sin, chan eil e doirbh a bhi ' tuigsinn c' arson nach do theagasg iad Gàidhlig sinne. Bha feadhainn eile ' smaoineachadh nach robh gin do dh' fhiach air a' Ghàidhlig. Bha iomadh breug air innse mu dheidhinn a' Ghàidhlig. Cha b' e fìor chànan a bh' innte. Cha b' urrainn sin a bhi cho ceàrr. Tha cuimhn' m air a' là bha seo, bha mi fhín is bràthair mo sheanamhar aig na geamaichean Ghàidhealach anns a' Bhaile Mhór. Nuair a bha sinn a' falbh o 'n t-àite sin, dh' fhoighnich duin' a' gheata do bhràthair mo sheanamhar, "ciamar a chòrd an geamaichean ribh, a dhuine, is fhreagairt e ris…"cha robh e tuilleadh 's dona, ach, bu chòir barrachd Gàidhlig a bhi ann a' seo". Nach robh sin cho sìmplidh agus cho fìor! A' là an diugh, thòisich m' athair is mise ' bruidhinn 's a' Ghàidhlig fad na h-ùine, agus cha bhiodh nàire oirnn a bhi ' bruidhinn 's a Ghàidhlig aig an taigh no air an t-sràid, air am fòn 's an oifis, no air beulaibh ri daoine eile. Sin an dòigh gum bu choir dha bhi!

Howie Centre, Cape Breton, is where I was born, but we moved to Sydney when I was six and I was raised there. I live in New Glasgow now.

My mother would sing Gaelic songs. I have memories of her singing Gaelic as far back as my pre-school years. Although Gaelic was not spoken in the home, other than a few phrases such as "Ciamar a tha thu?", I heard a little more Gaelic when visiting with my mother's family and friends. It was the Gaelic songs that really contributed to my desire to learn Gaelic. To be able to sing Gaelic songs, (I realized) I have to learn the language.

I first started to learn a little Gaelic during Féis an Eilein in Christmas Island. The festival, which runs from the third Tuesday in August to the third Saturday, offers workshops in Gaelic language and Gaelic song. I would then attend other workshops mostly in Cape Breton. Friends would provide me with Gaelic tapes. I would listen to these often, especially when travelling by car.

Last year I attended the Gaelic College in St Ann's. I was there for a week taking five Gaelic classes a day. Being exposed to so much Gaelic at a time was very beneficial to me. A lot of what I had been taught in previous short workshops began to fall together and make sense. I plan to return again this summer. I continue to attend short workshops such as "Gaelic Days" at St. Francis Xavier University. I am looking forward to "Féis a' Chlachain", which will be held at the Nova Scotia Highland Village, in Iona on May 17. There will be song workshops in the afternoon and a milling frolic that evening.

I listen to Gaelic music everyday and try to work on some aspect of Gaelic daily as time permits. Over the past winter I have been meeting weekly in Trenton with about 12 others to work on Gaelic songs. Most of the songs are milling songs but now and then another type of song slips in.

Initially, it was very difficult for me to find a place to learn Gaelic. I would return to Cape Breton asking where there would be a Gaelic concert, or Gaelic anything. The reply would be that there is no Gaelic in Cape Breton anymore. Then one day I went into the Tourist Bureau in Sydney River and found a "Féis an Eilein" brochure. I went to Christmas Island to see what this "féis" was all about. There I was first exposed to Gaelic as an adult. I attended a language and a song workshop, witnessed my first milling frolic, and knew that I wanted to one day sing a Gaelic song at that table. During that first féis, I met many wonderful people who were very encouraging. I have since returned to the féis each year. I learned that once you find out where one Gaelic event was taking place; information slowly became available about other workshops, concerts and milling frolics.

Finding someone locally to converse with has been a challenge. For years I would go to Cape Breton to attend a workshop. Then I would return to New Glasgow, and not hear a word of Gaelic until I returned to Cape Breton. (So) I listen to Gaelic tapes and CDs every day. I try to spend some time every day working on some aspect of Gaelic.

For me, the language is used mostly in song, or in simple greetings, talking about the weather etc. I have a lot of work to do on the conversational aspect.

Gaelic is very important to me. It is a part of who I am: my past, present and future. There is a very social aspect to Gaelic culture. Each person tries to help the other. I will continue to attend milling frolics, Gaelic concerts, square dances, festivals and workshops. I hope to continue to raise awareness of Gaelic, whether that be in organizing a concert, milling frolic or workshop, or just using a Gaelic phrase such as "tapadh leat" to a non-Gaelic speaker. By doing that it will evoke the questions "What did you say?" "What language is that?" "Where did that language come from? It evokes curiosity and spreads awareness.

Interest in Gaelic, the language and culture, is steadily growing. A dedicated group of people work hard to maintain and grow the language and its culture.

In the future I see more and more people learning the language and participating in the cul-tural activities -- singing, dancing, fiddling, piping, milling. I see a future where Gaelic lives!

I was born in Dartmouth; brought up in North Sydney and various other parts of Nova Scotia and since 1964 I have lived in Halifax. My interest in Gaelic started when I was very young with my grandparents and father speaking in Gaelic sometimes. (They talked) about it and the culture and the family history, almost all the time.

I never lost my interest in Gaelic although I mostly put it aside, involuntarily, for many years.

For those years I played with what little I knew, and listened to the few old Gaelic 78s and "long play" albums I had. There was no one I knew in those days who knew any more Gaelic than I did!

About seven years ago my wife noticed an advertisement in the paper that Gaelic language would be taught at night school in Dartmouth. I signed up and when I realized that some of the students and the teacher were serious about it, I too became serious about attempting to learn this beautiful language.

I take classes in Gaelic wherever I can. I attend Lewis MacKinnon's class at the Canadian National Institute for the Blind's meeting rooms on Wednesdays. I have taken courses at Saint Mary's University, gone to the Gaelic College for a couple weeks for the past six summers, and go regularly to the twice-annual immersion day at St Francis Xavier University. I do private study in grammar and translation from Gaelic to English. I listen to tapes and music and a little from the computer, which I also am trying to master.

The greatest challenge to me furthering my Gaelic is that I do not get enough oral practice in everyday conversation with someone who can and will correct my errors.

I try to keep up by means of classes, private study, language and music tapes and cds; the milling group (An Cliath Clis); and occasional conversation meetings with three or four others who are at about the same level of fluency as I am.

I use the language very rarely, only in talking to myself or translating something I see or hear or with the few others who are willing and are able to share it with me.

I am getting old for Gaelic to have much of a future for me, But I love it more than anything else! I stay with it and talk about it all the time trying to promote it and its use among others, especially young people! I fear that without a great push now airson aobhar na Gaidhlig, the Gaelic language, will be an archaic memory in Nova Scotia soon and the cultural activities at present purporting to be "Scottish" or "Highland" will be emptier and hollower without a vibrant heart, the Gaelic language! Culture is the language!

I was born and raised in Ottawa, Ontario. I have been living in Halifax since 1999, my first year of University.

What spurred my interest in Gaelic? Most concretely, I would have to say it was Mary Jane Lamond's album, Lan Dùil. I think that was my first real exposure to the language, and I remember being fascinated by the apparent disparity between the words being sung and those written in the CD jacket.

I started learning the language when I signed up for the introductory course at Saint Mary's University and currently I am in the intermediate Gaelic class at SMU.

Thus far, I feel that I have encountered little difficulty in learning Gaelic. I am fascinated by the way the language operates, and the insights it gives into a culture from which I think we could stand to learn a few things. I am fortunate to have discovered the smu classes, as they are a great way to learn Gaelic, but I will probably have trouble continuing to learn once I've graduated.

What strategies, practices do I use in keeping up my Gaelic? At this point, that all comes down to attending classes and having conversations with Joe Murphy, my professor, and the other students, as well as following the class material in Robertson and Taylor's Teach Yourself Gaelic (a lucid and thorough resource). Again, I'll bet that once the class is over, I'll have trouble finding opportunities to exercise my Gaelic muscles. I hope to keep it up by reading Gaelic texts (though I'm not sure where I'll find them) and listening to Gaelic music.

Unfortunately, I use the language only in class and when asked by intrigued friends to "Say something in Gaelic."

As a musician, I think it would be interesting if I could eventually infuse Gaelic into my music. Sort of come full circle -- my interest in the language was piqued through music; why shouldn't it end up manifesting itself in music?

As for its future in Nova Scotia, it's no secret that that future is in danger.

I think we have a lot to learn from cultures like that of the Gaels, such as the emphasis they seem to have placed on things like music and community, things that are so important and so often forgotten in our possession-obsessed Western world. It would be a shame to let a culture like theirs disappear, so I hope Gaelic has a future in Nova Scotia.

I'm not sure that making Gaelic mandatory in schools would be a constructive means to ensuring that end, but perhaps the allotment of funding to grassroots initiatives to preserve the language and, by extension, the culture, should be made.

I was born in Sydney, Cape Breton and brought up in Sunrise Valley, Cape Breton. Sunrise Valley is a five minute drive from Cape North, and a forty-five minute drive north from Ingonish. I am now finishing my second year as an International Development Studies and History double major at Saint Mary's University in Halifax, although I still go home to Cape Breton for the summers.

My father grew up in Malagawatch along the Bras d'or Lakes when many people still spoke Gaelic, including his parents. He was never taught the language, so he and my mother decided to put me in the Gaelic college every summer for two weeks from the time I was six to eleven years old. There I learned some rudimentary Gaelic, weaving, fiddle and step-dancing, and also spent a couple years in a Gaelic camp started by Bernadette Campbell in Mabou. I loved being a part of the Gaelic choir that Catriona Parsons had every year at the Gaelic College, and it was the songs the stuck with me, even though I had forgotten most of the Gaelic. When I was twelve, my school secretary somehow knew I had been part of that choir and asked me to sing a Gaelic song for her church's St. Patrick's Day's concert. I didn't sing very well, but everyone liked the Gaelic so much I kept being asked back to concerts. Eventually I got tired of singing the same songs, so my father got in touch with Angus MacLeod in the North Shore and asked if he would teach me some more, which he generously did. Then when I came to Saint Mary's, I decided to take the Gaelic beginner's class with Joe Murphy. The songs had allowed me to have a little bit of a head start on pronunciation and orthography, but I had forgotten all of the grammar and vocabulary I had learned before, so I was truly a beginner.

Now I am finishing the Intermediate class at Saint Mary's, but there will be no more advanced classes, so I am worried about what that will mean for my Gaelic. There are two obstacles facing me now in furthering Gaelic. The first is the lack of someone to talk to in Gaelic. After completing the Intermediate class, I can participate in some basic conversation. I am hoping that in the summer I can visit some Gaelic speakers in Cape Breton to do a little conversation, although that is not nearly as much as I know I need. The second is my heavy course load in school. There are some opportunities to learn more Gaelic in Halifax, but as a student with a double major, volunteer commitments and a commitment to furthering my studies with the Royal Conservatory in piano, it is difficult, which is why having a course at Saint Mary's was a blessing. I would love to go and study in Scotland where there are more opportunities for immersion, but I do not have financial resources to go. That is a more distant goal.

Maintaining my Gaelic until now has been through my course twice a week, as well as keeping up the songs in the summer. However, I will have to put more effort from now on to make sure I don't lose what I have learned. I will attempt to listen to Gaelic radio, read more Gaelic stories, and speak more in Gaelic. However, there is no one fluent in Gaelic around my area at home that I know, so that will be a challenge. I have only used the language so far in my class and in performance, but I have realized this year how important it is to become a Gaelic speaker. With so few Gaelic speakers in Nova Scotia, and most of them in their older years, it will be a challenge to keep Gaelic alive. It is such a beautiful language, and it should not be lost. If I have children, I would like to raise them to speak Gaelic, so that they will not have the difficulty that my father and I have had in losing the language, which is the soul of our culture. Hopefully my role in at least having knowledge of Gaelic will be to continue the language in my life as a part of my cultural identity, but also as someone who could potentially be a teacher of the language later in life. I hope that many more people take an interest in the language as a real commitment, so that it will continue as a beautiful part of Nova Scotian culture.

Gaelic is sentimental to me because it is my first language. Speaking and hearing the language is something out of the ordinary for me and I want to keep up my language skills. I enjoy getting together with like-minded people because this gives me the opportunity to converse with them and to hear the language spoken.

When I told my friends and family -- or anyone else for that matter -- that I was learning Gaelic this year they usually responded in one of two ways, "oh, that's so cool", or "(pause) ummm, why? (heavy emphasis on the why?) ...

So, why Gaelic? It's a good question. As I sat down to write this piece, the answer proved to be more elusive than I first anticipated. The most obvious is, of course, a Scottish/Cape Breton ancestry. A branch of my mother's family came directly from the Scottish Highlands to Cape Breton in the early 1800s. They were Gaelic speakers up until three generations ago. There is also a lot of Scottish background on my father's side from several ancestral lines. So Gaelic is a way for me to learn about, connect with, and revive a piece of my family's heritage. This is why I started with Gaelic.

Here's the reason that I've decided to stick with it.

During our weekly Gaelic classes, there is often informal discussion about Gaelic language and Gaelic culture in general. My first thought…which I discreetly kept to myself at the time was… "there's a culture around a language?" I had never heard of a culture being defined only by a language before this. This I found very interesting.

As I learned more in class, I began to discover connections between things I had not previously associated as being connected at all. For example, I had been pursuing step dancing for the past year and had experienced the connection between the dance steps and the fiddle music. I soon learned that the root or foundation of both is really the language itself.

This added a whole other dimension.

Learning Gaelic has really brought together disciplines that I always had considered as being separate and detached. I have since found that exploring one enriches the others.

But really… why Gaelic? I'd say that it's all of the above plus everything I've yet to learn. I guess it's just something I've wanted to do and so far it's been a lot of fun doing it!

When I was a small child I often heard Gaelic spoken and listened to people singing and telling stories. I grew up using Gaelic words and expressions even though I couldn't speak the language. My parents instilled in their children a respect for the language. They took us to Gaelic church services and whenever anything in Gaelic came on the radio we would all stop and listen. I think the language is a part of who I am and I want to have a better understanding of what that means. I may never become fluent in the language "ach is fheàrr Gàidhlig briste na Gàidhlig anns a'chiste".

My name is Angus McLarty. I'm 26 years old. I come from Baddeck, Nova Scotia. My financeé and I began studying Gaelic in September, 2002.

I can trace my ancestry back to Harris, Lewis, and North Uist. Back to people like John Morrison, my great, great, great grandfather. He was an MLA for Victory County in the mid 1800s. He gave the only speech ever given entirely in Gaelic before the Nova Scotia Legislature. He spoke on the importance of funding for Gaelic education to the children of Cape Breton Island. My grandmother still has a copy of the speech.

In my family, I am the only member of my generation who is continuing the language. I feel that it is an important link to my past and a positive step for the future. I want my grandparents' generation to know that my financeé and I will pass the tradition on to their great grandchildren.

Cha robh mi ach bliadhna a dh' aois nuair a chuala mi òrain air an rèidio an toiseach is mi ' feuchainn gan seinn. Dh' fheuch mi a bhi coltach ri na seinneadairean air an rèidio air fad mo bheatha. Ach, 's a' mhadainn bha seo, nuair a bha mi beagan nas òige 's a tha mi anist, chuala mi Cloinn 'IcFhraing a' seinn 's a' Ghàidhlig. Uill, dé bha seo? Dh' fheuch mi an t-amaideas a dh' ionnsachadh, ach bha sin ro dhoirbh. Chuala mi còmhlanan eile, ach 's toigh leamsa òrain Gàidhlig nas fhearr na sian eile. As deoghaidh sin, taing do Dhia, thachair ruideiginn iongantach rium. Fhuair mi fios o Mhargo Carruthers mu dheidhinn chlasaichean Ghàidhlig is tacan as deoghaidh sin thòisich mi air ionnsachadh bhuaipe. As deoghaidh sin, dh' ionnsaich mi le Lodaidh MacFhionghuin is tha mi anns a' chlas aige fhathast. Am maighistearan-sgoile agam, 's e deagh sheanchaidhean is sheinneadairean a th' annainn. Sin mar a dh' ionnsaich mi iomadh òrain is sgeulachdan bhuapa. Tha mi ' stuideigeadh òrain o 'n Chlàradh aig Margo…tha iomadh òrain breagha air a' Chlàradh aice.

Chluichinn an clàrsach cuideachd. 'S e Cheryl Reid O'Hagan am ban-sgoile a th' agam. Tha i gu math measail, 's e clàrsaire choileanta a th' innte. Tha mi air na clàrsaichean a th' agam a stuideigeadh is a chluich airson iomadh bliadhna. Rinn Cheryl còmhlan "Na Clàrsairean Fhiadhaich" a th' aice air. Cluichidh sinn is gabhaidh sinn òrain Gàidhlig is ceòl eile.

'S e snìomhaiche is figheadair a th' annam cuideachd. Mar seo, bha mi gu math toilichte nuair a thòisich an còmhlan luadhadh "An Cliath Clis". Tha an còmhlan seo a' coinneachadh gach mìos is sheinninn comhla riutha. Dh' ionnsaich mi iomadh òrain bhuapa. Gu tric, thèid sinn gu iomadh luadhadh is seo mar a dh' ionnsaich mi na h-òrain. 'S urrainn dhomh iomadh òrain Gàidhlig a sheinn anist. Is tha mi 'n dòchas gum bi mi ' cluich mo chlàrsach is a' seinn òrain gu bràth. Original text in Gaelic

I wasn't but a year old when I first heard songs and tried to sing them. I tried to be like the singers on the radio all my life. But one morning when I was a bit younger than I am now, I heard the Rankin Family singing in Gaelic. Well, what was this? I tried to learn the nonsense but that was too hard. I heard other groups, but I like Gaelic songs better than any others. After that, thank God, something wonderful happened to me. I heard from Margo Carruthers about Gaelic class and soon after that I started learning from her. After that I studied with Lewis MacKinnon and am still in his class. My teachers are very good singers and storytellers. That is how I learned many Gaelic songs and stories from them. I am studying songs from Margo's CD ... there are many beautiful songs on her Gaelic CD.

I also play the harp. My teacher is Cheryl Reid O'Hagan, a well-respected, accomplished harpist. I have been studying and playing my harps for many years. Cheryl formed a group called "The Wild Harpers". We play and sing Gaelic songs as well as other music.

I am a weaver and a spinster, so I was very pleased when the milling group, An Cliath Clis, began. They meet every month and I sing with and have learned many songs from them. Often we go to milling frolics and this is how I learn the songs. I can sing many Gaelic songs now and I hope I will be playing my harp and singing songs forever.

For the past several years I have taken an evening course, to keep my mind busy outside of work. I recently completed a certifficate program at TUNS/DalTech in Computer Science, and was looking for a change of pace.

I have in recent years been doing some casual genealogy work, which, on my father's side of the family, leads back to Scotland, in Aberdeenshire, with the information being relatively solid connecting us to ancestors living in the area in the year 1746.

I also have an interest in music, with a reasonably large and eclectic CD collection, including Mary Jane Lamond, Natalie MacMaster, Brenda Stubbert, the Rankin family, etc. Along with music, I have an interest in words, and if you have no Gaelic background, but have tried to read the words from the CD insert while listening to a song being sung in Gaelic, you suspect that Gaelic isn't a variant of English (or vice versa).

So, free time, a Scottish ancestry, the Scottish heritage of Nova Scotia, the resurgence of Celtic music, the mystery of Gaelic words -- it all adds up to a reason to think about Gaelic. When I did a websearch on Gaelic in Nova Scotia, I came across the name of Margo Carruthers, and a course she taught which mixed Gaelic with music. I played phone tag with Margo, we finally chatted, and I learned she no longer teaches that course. She willingly passed me on to George Seto. George gave me enough info to come to the beginner's class held by the Halifax Group at the CNIB building on Almon St. I think Margo tried to recruit me for the milling frolics, but she wasn't forthright enough and I was evasive enough that I've avoided them so far. I'll end my tale there, since that pretty well sums it up.

Nuair a bha mi nam ghille beag, dh' fhuirich mi gu tric comhla ri mo sheanair (Domhnall S. MacDhòmhnaill) aig an taigh aige an Westchester, Siorramachd Cumberland o chionn bha gaol agam air an dùthaich, na daoine, is na seann sgeulachdan aca.

Turas bha seo, dh' ìnns' e dhomh gu robh a' Ghàidhlig aig athair (Alastair W. MacDhòmhnaill, Rugadh e ann am bliadhna 1853 am Beinn Dalhousie, Siorramachd Pictou). Ach, cha chuala mi guth Gàidhlig air bruidhinn bho dhuine sam bith 's an teaghlach againn.

O 'n uair sin, tha mi air feuchainn ionnsachadh uile a b' urrainn dhomh mu dheidhinn ceòl Ceilteach. Ach, tha mi air leantuinn a bhi gu math eagnaidh is air mo dhùbhlanachadh leis a' smuain "an ionnsachainn beagan do Ghàidhlig a bhruidhinn?"

Tha mi cinnteach gum biodh mo shìn sheanair (ged nach robh mi riamh eòlach air) gu math riaraichte a bhi ' cluinntinn gu bheil a' Ghàidhlig air bruidhinn arithist anns a' ghéig seo de chraobh ghinealaich Clann Dòmhnaill. Cuideachd, creididh mi gu deimhinn gu bheil i anns an fhuil! Original text in Gaelic

When I was a boy, I often stayed with my grandfather (Daniel S. McDonald) at his home in Westchester, Cumberland County because I loved the country, the people, and their old stories.

He once told me, his father, Alexander W. MacDonald, born in 1853 in Mt. Dalhousie, Pictou County, had Gaelic. But I have never heard a word of it spoken from any of our family.

Since that time, I have tried to learn all that I could about Celtic music. I have continued to be very curious and challenged by the thought, "could I learn to speak a bit of Gaelic?".

I am sure my Great grandfather (whom I never knew) would be very pleased to hear it spoken again in this "twig" of the MacDonald family tree. I also believe very strongly that "it is in the blood".

Gaelic language class of Comunn Gàidhlig an àrd-Bhaile / The Gaelic Society of Halifax. They run through the fall and winter months at the CNIB Building, 6136 Almon Street. The program includes _lms and videos, song workshops and optional _eld trips.

Nuair a bha mi òg b' àbhaist dhomh a bhith ag èisdeachd ri m' athair agus cuid do na seann daoine 'sa choimhearsnachd a' bruidhinn r' a chèile anns a' Ghàidhlig agus bha mise 'g iarraidh Gàidhlig a bhruidhinn cuideachd. Thug mi leasanan bho àm gu àm, ach tha mi air ionnsachadh anns a' chlas oidhche anist fad trì no ceithir bliadhna.

Rinn mi beagan do shloinntearachd agus tha mi air faighinn gu bheil a h-uile sinnsear a th' agam 's ann às na h-Eileannan an Iar agus an Tìr Mór an Iar do dh'Alba a thàinig iad. Thàinig a' cuid a 's motha dhiubh às Na h-Eileannan an Iar agus mar sin bha poidhle do Ghàidhlig aca.

Tha mi 'n dòchas gum bi mi ag ionnsachadh beagan do Ghàidhlig airson a bhi ' teagasg facal no dhà do mo chlann fhéin agus m' oghanaich. Tha mi 'n dòchas nach eil e tuilleadh 's anamoch airson an teaghlach agam a bhi ' bruidhinn 'sa Ghàidhlig. Original text in Gaelic

Mary "Taigh Solas" MacLean (at far right) sharing in a milling song at the 200th anniversary of the landing of the Hector in Pictou, NS

Why am I learning the Gaelic language? One might think that I don't have enough stress in my life. Who wouldn't look forward to having more conversations like this?

Mary's friend: A Mhàiri, ciamar a tha thu?

Mary, how are you?

Mary, smugly thinking: Yes, I can answer that! I know that!

Mary: Glé mhath, tapadh leat. Ciamar a tha thu fhéin, a charaid?

Very well, thank you. How are you yourself, friend?

Mary's friend: Glé mhath, cuideachd. Am bi thu a' dol dhan taigh òsda anochd?

Very well, also. Will you be going to the pub tonight?

Mary, desperately trying to translate in her head: Oh, I think I know what she said. Wait, what tense was that? Yes, future, but did she say "a' dol" or "ag òl"? So, will I be going to the pub or will I be drinking at the pub? The only thing I really know for sure is I'll certainly be needing a drink if we keep trying to speak in Gaelic.

Mary: Bidh mi a' dol dhan taigh òsda anochd agus bidh mi ag òl cuideachd.

I'll be going to the pub tonight and I'll be drinking also.

Mary's friend: Am faca tu am bata agam?

Did you see my walking stick?

Mary, to herself: Was that ( bàta, boat), or (bata, walking stick)? Could be either one. Have you ever noticed how Gaelic speakers can say so much without hardly opening their mouths or moving their lips?

Mary: A bheil bàta agad?

Do you have a boat?

Mary in English: Oh God, I can tell by the look on your face that you meant (bata, walking stick), not (bàta, boat).

Mary's friend trying again, good naturedly: An cuala tu a' chaileag a' seinn a' raoir? Did you hear the girl singing last night?

Mary, to herself: Kayak? There was a kayak singing last night? I would like to have seen that! Oh, she said..."caileag"!

Mary: Cha chuala mi a' chaileag a' seinn a' raoir. I didn't hear the girl singing last night.

How will I ever learn this language? You know they say that even broken Gaelic is better than clever English. ' S fhearr Gàidhlig briste na Beurla cliste. The person who wrote that gem never heard my Gaelic. So, I have to put my foot in the water and hope for the best. Cur do chas anns an t-uisge.

It is said there are only a few hundred fluent Gaelic speakers left in Nova Scotia.

If the native speakers of my father's generation had taught, or even regularly spoken to their children in Gaelic, there might now be thousands. The loss of a local language is not an accident. It is the choice of the people not to communicate in their native tongue. Belatedly I've made the decision to learn and speak what should have been my first language, broken now, perhaps someday cleverly.

Though my parents were not fluent Gaelic speakers, their parents were, thus in the mining towns of Northern Ontario where we lived during the early 1960s I grew up far from Cape Breton but amid sounds and scenes that hinted at something familiar but also seemed to have a hidden presence. Little sparks of Gaelic culture found their way into our home and made lasting impressions on me, but they were out of context until we moved to Cape Breton several years later. What I learned up north in Balmertown -- it's near Red Lake -- was how emotional this language could be and that Gaelic has strong physical expressions as well as verbal ones. In addition, I learned that Northern Ontario, the only home I knew, wasn't really 'home'.

Often, friends of my parents, who lived and worked in town, gathered for holidays and Sunday dinners, birthdays, or just to get together on their days off from work at the local gold mine. And in a world filled with Bolawkas, Tanners, and Fashericks, I remember how soft and lilting my father's tongue spoke the names of his friends. Names like Dan J. MacDonald, Duncan Rankin, Joe Gillis and Neil MacNeil all had a musical sound that ebbed and flowed.

One night I awoke to loud noises and if I had known what elephants were, I would have thought a herd was stampeding through our house, such stomping and wailing was going on. When it stopped, I heard voices calmly talking, so I crept down the hallway to have a look. Seated in our living room was a group of men of many ages, shift-workers who often came to visit, and my father with them. As he patted the arm of the couch for me to jump up beside him, the singing started again. One man was leading, and at intervals others would join in and then the stomping would get louder and then temper down. Their knees bobbed up and down, and they joined hands around the room. My father grabbed mine and we swung our arms up and paused, back and paused, in time with the song. I watched in awe as men sang with eyes shut, heads thrown back or bodies rocking side to side.

I remember one young man paused as a tear rolled down his cheek and when the singing stopped his shoulders still shook. One man near me said to another, "He's thinking of his mother". The other nodded, "He wants to go back. She wasn't well when he was home." There was neither laughter nor taunts, but instead moments of silence as they waited for the young man to compose himself. Each man there was likely familiar with the emotion that follows when you need to leave people that you cherish and who cherish you.

I thought then that being on the same shift at the same mine was the thread that drew these men together. But I know now that it wasn't. They were pulled together by the many threads of a shared culture. I remember they talked that night about their mothers and their sisters, of fishing, and of all things, molasses. When another song began, my father leaned over and said to me, "That's Gaelic." After a few more songs, I went to bed and fell asleep to the rhythmic tapping of heels and low voices singing into the night.

The next time I was to have such an intense awareness of this culture was seven years later, when I was twelve and sitting on the floor mat by the kitchen stove at my grandmother's home in Cape Breton. As I petted the cat, my grandfather who had come in from the barn to lay on the kitchen lounge, began to sing. Verse after verse he sang in Gaelic as I had never heard him before. At the end of the song he sat up, swiveled to plant his two feet on the floor, rested his hands on his thighs elbows pointing out and called for my attention. He sat there, his body, long and lean like the Big Johns are, and his head and shoulders leaned toward me as he spoke, "That was a song about your cousin."

I cherish that moment but I regret that I never did take the time to learn the song from him. He gave me many genealogy lessons but not much in the way of Gaelic. My grandparents saved Gaelic for each other or when they told a joke, or conversation with close friends. Their most expressive moments were in Gaelic. I never saw my grandmother laugh at an English joke the way she laughed at a Gaelic one.

Neither one of them could write in Gaelic, so when I'd try to learn vocabulary from my grandmother, I'd write the word phonetically to help me remember it. I listened to her rock many grandchildren while singing a lullaby, and I wrote 'Maitheal, Maitheal' on my list. She had a great laugh the day I asked her how to say cat in Gaelic, and I of course said the word for "Sh__" instead. Most words I know in Gaelic hold the joy of time spent with her. If I'm lucky enough to have grandchildren someday, the first word they'll hear from me will be "Maitheal" though I'll probably never be able to say it with the same charm and patience as my grandmother Mary Ann 'Dunc' did. In the present day, in this new land, songs of 'home' are no longer yearnings for Scotland, but for the pleasures and traditions of our scenic island home, Cape Breton.

p Gold miners in Porcupine, Northern Ontario. Source: Canadian Heritage Gallery

p Red Lake, Northern Ontario. A community wa-ay off the beaten track, inland from Sault Ste. Marie