Only, In Haiti, I Realized,

What Could Be More Lonely Than To Be Enveloped In Silence, To Be The Last Of Your People To Speak Your Native Tongue, To Have No Way To Pass On The Wisdom Of The Elders, To Anticipate The Promise Of The Children. This Tragic Fate Is Indeed The Plight Of Someone Somewhere Roughly Every Two Weeks.

The Problem Is That Those Of Us Sympathetic With The Plight Of Indigenous People View Them As Quaint And Colorful, But Somehow Reduced To Margins Of History As The Real World [(our World)] Moves On We Will Be Known As An Era In Which We Stood By And Either Actively Endorsed Or Passively Accepted The Massive Destruction Of Both Biological And Cultural Diversity On The Planet.

The World In Which You Were Born Is Just One Model Of Reality. Other Cultures Are Not Failed Attempts At Being You; They Are Unique Manifestations Of The Human Spirit.

Its Haunting To Realize That Half Of The Languages Of The World Are Teetering On The Brink Of Extinction.

Language Is An Old-growth Forest Of The Mind.