Millennials keenly feel how loss of dialects equals loss of connection with older generations. Technology is showing us the way forward.

Originally published in print and online by The Straits Times on 12th February 2024.

As I was listening in on a conversation among my older relatives at Christmas, one teasingly remarked, “Zung hai m sik gong gwong dong wah?” (translation: “Still can’t speak Cantonese?”).

In a futile attempt, I mustered a “Ngo sek teng, tong mai sek gong xiu xiu” (translation: “I understand but can only speak a little”), accompanied by a sheepish smile. Swiftly coming to my defence, my partner explained in fluent Cantonese that I have been improving, and am currently relearning my dialect.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened. Nor were the sighs from the older generation unfamiliar, lamenting the decline of dialects.

The struggle to learn or retain dialects feels isolating, but isn’t unique. It’s a common worry that transcends generations.

Those who speak them grapple with the fear of losing the shared heritage and memories intertwined with them. Meanwhile, those who have yet to master them sense an impending urgency to do so, although challenges abound.

In my case, my father is Cantonese – making me this by default – but growing up, my household was an English-speaking one. Cantonese and Hokkien, the dialects of my parents, were reserved for conversations with grandparents and relatives. And given my close upbringing by my sole Hokkien grandmother, I often joked that I was half-Hokkien anyway.

Ironically, it took meeting my partner’s family to kick-start a proper learning of the Cantonese dialect. Sparked by the desire to connect, communicate and bridge gaps within his family and myself, I embarked on a journey to source the best resources to reclaim my dialect. But I soon found it wasn’t easy.

Challenges of speaking up and starting out

It can be intimidating to learn anything from scratch, much less a language – especially when you have no one to practise it with. Unsurprisingly, Singapore’s population census in 2020 found that English and Mandarin were the top two languages spoken at home.

In this linguistically diverse population, there are more than 20 dialects existing alongside the four official languages of Singapore – English, Mandarin Chinese, Malay and Tamil. However, language policies over the years have caused a steep decline in dialect usage.

Historically, language has always been a vital political-economic factor in Singapore.

In terms of language policy, it was argued that adopting a lingua franca would enhance the efficiency of governance in a multiracial and multilingual society. Second, positioning English as the language of trade has consistently provided Singapore with access to the global economy. The latter also serves as a deterrent to the formation of ethnic enclaves, particularly among the dominant Chinese population. English as a neutral medium was also to foster a sense of unity among the diverse population.

Today, we see mini dialect “enclaves” – be it at hawker centres or family gatherings.

However, in situations where everyone around you is already fluent in the dialect, using it while you’re still learning can be intimidating. In other cases, the environment might not be as welcoming and you might get criticised for butchering the language.

It can also be daunting to begin looking for learning resources. Unlike for “mainstream” languages, resources or even a translator akin to Google Translate are much harder to find for certain dialects like Hakka and Cantonese.

Personally, I found solace in platforms like italki and LearnDialect.sg, which provide a more personalised approach with a diverse range of dialects and personal tutors who create tailored lesson plans. Reddit forums, YouTube and other online resources have also become essential in the absence of traditional textbooks or tangible curricula.

What is lost in translation?

Dialects will eventually die out if not for the next generation of speakers who are willing to learn and keep them alive.

But preservation is intrinsically linked to addressing a broader challenge – the generational gap. As younger generations increasingly adopt dominant languages or global lingua franca, there is a growing risk of losing connection with the linguistic heritage of their elders.

Language holds profound significance spiritually, culturally and emotionally. Dialects, in particular, are instrumental in maintaining cultural hierarchy by serving as carriers of history, identity, traditions and wisdom specific to particular communities. When a language fades away, a piece of that culture is irrevocably lost.

A good friend of mine from Myanmar recently pointed out how Burmese was a significantly difficult language for her to learn after she migrated to Singapore, and she studied it only up till grade four. From her own experience, the challenge of language loss is linked to the phenomenon of brain drain, as people migrating from Myanmar neglect passing down their languages to their children, notably in places like Singapore where languages like English and Chinese take precedence.

Another close friend, from Singapore, highlighted the danger of the generational gap and the passing down of languages. As her parents were not particularly fluent in Javanese and Baweanese, they were not able to impart them to her.

One thing is undeniable – language extinction is real, and poses a significant threat to cultural heritage.

The United Nations, through Unesco, has issued a warning that approximately 40 per cent of the world’s languages are at risk of extinction, with projections suggesting that 95 per cent may face endangerment by 2100.

Data from Statista shows that Oceania tops the list as the region with the highest number of languages facing various degrees of threat or endangerment, totalling 733. Following closely, Asia hosts a similarly substantial count of 693 languages at risk. Africa, too, is at risk of losing some 428 mother tongues. Factors like displacement and migration due to climate change-induced disasters further contribute to language loss, with nearly one language becoming extinct every two weeks.

Smaller, indigenous languages face a greater risk of extinction. Recently, I came across Argentinian Blas Omar Jaime’s incredible story on creating a Chana dictionary with about 1,000 words. Now 89, Mr Jaime has dedicated nearly two decades to resurrecting Chana, a nearly extinct indigenous language spoken by the Chana people in Argentina and Uruguay. His work is considered crucial for Unesco’s mission of language preservation.

Closer to home, a viral video that made the rounds on TikTok in 2023 featured a 91-year-old Malaysian woman known as Tok Mah showcasing her impressive fluency in various dialects and languages, leaving social media users in awe. Besides Hokkien, she demonstrates proficiency in Mandarin, Hainanese, Hakka, Teochew and “Macau” (presumably Cantonese), Tamil, Thai, and a bit of English.

But the onus cannot solely be on the older generation to preserve our shared heritage.

Learning with artificial and emotional intelligence

Fortunately, in the last decade, the use of artificial intelligence (AI) in language documentation and learning has proven invaluable in preservation and communication. For instance, Meta AI has developed a Hokkien speech translation system with AI that signifies a promising avenue for Hokkien-speaking grandparents to communicate with their English-speaking grandchildren seamlessly.

In a similar vein, Duolingo utilises AI to tailor language-learning experiences to individual users, incorporating features like role play and multi-turn conversations to enhance language skills. Duolingo’s co-founder and chief executive Luis von Ahn has emphasised the real demand for language learning, especially for businesspeople and those moving to new countries, as human-to-human communication cannot be replaced by AI or machine translation.

What’s also heartening is the growing awareness, particularly among millennials, about the need to connect with the elderly, embrace cultural identity, and enhance communication skills at the workplace.

The recent global pandemic, despite its challenges, has revealed a silver lining – research indicates that during lockdowns, children in such families showed increased learning of their parents’ languages as the closure of kindergartens and schools led to parents managing both schooling and remote work, providing an opportunity for children to engage more with their parents’ native languages.

In Singapore, a similar phenomenon occurred, with a heightened interest in learning dialects, leading to language schools and clan associations witnessing a surge in demand for classes.

LearnDialect.sg, established by Mr Eugene Lee and Ms Ski Yeo, experienced a notable increase in learners across various age groups, from nine-year-olds to individuals in their 60s. The National Heritage Board also launched the Discover Through Dialects: Kreta Ayer Heritage Tours, aiming to enhance accessibility to the history and heritage of the Kreta Ayer area, particularly for seniors and those proficient in dialects.

There’s a collective realisation that dialects go beyond mere communication – they convey cultures, identity and family ties. More importantly, we recognise the integral role these languages play in maintaining and building relationships with those who speak them and whom we hold dear.

For example, a close friend told me about her loss of connection with her cultural Indian roots, particularly her mother tongue, Malayalam. This, she said, was the result of growing up speaking English at home.

Recognising the impact this had on her identity, she decided to relearn Malayalam, finding a regained sense of connection with her heritage. Studying Hindi in school further deepened her ties to Indian culture. She highlighted the common challenge faced by second- and third-generation immigrants – navigating, fitting in and preserving cultural identity, emphasising the profound connection between language, culture and meaningful communication.

While language preservation might be tied to each of us taking the initiative to learn and embrace these dialects or our mother tongues, it must first begin with a collective understanding of what will be lost if we don’t.