Teachings from the Language Tree, part 9: How Can the Land Be Inanimate?
Manoominike-giizis (Wild-Ricing Moon)/Waagaabagaa-giizis (Leaves Turning Moon), September 19, 2026
This blog post includes a list of Ojibwe verbs and nouns and an audio recordings featuring pronunciations of specific words mentioned in the text!
Understanding the metaphor of the Language Tree is crucial, as it depicts roots firmly planted in the earth and branches extending in all directions, symbolizing exploration and the freedom of choice. It emphasizes delving into the world of our forebears while enjoying the freedom to chart your own journey!
PART 1: THE METAPHOR OF THE LANGUAGE TREE
Boozhoo, aaniin, biindigen miinawaa! Hello and welcome back.
Ever feel like the way we’re taught our language feels a little... clinical? Like a rigid classroom instead of a homecoming?
If you are a young Indigenous learner who feels detached from the language, it’s not because you aren't ready. t's because you're attempting to learn a living language from a lifeless textbook. Let's change that. But first, let's step outside and find a big, old tree. Offer the tree a handful of asemaa (tobacco).
Now, think about this.
Much of a tree's early growth happens in the deep, dark underground, long before it ever stands tall. It requires a quiet, hidden season.
The roots draw nourishment from the earth, and in return, the tree offers clean air and sweet fruit.
But before we breathe that air or taste that fruit, we have to pause. We have to honor the generations it took for those roots to sustain such a grand, healthy tree.
The older the tree, the deeper its story. This is exactly where the Language Tree comes in.
When you step back and truly look at the Language Tree, you wake up to the profound history you carry in your bones. You realize how vital it is to reconnect with those roots.
Once you restore that connection and look up into the canopy, you’ll see that countless paths lie open to you.
Even when others point to a single branch and tell you it’s the only way to learn, you always hold the medicine of choice. You have the freedom to choose another branch, and follow it toward your own discovery.
Understanding the metaphor of the Language Tree is crucial, as it depicts roots firmly planted in the earth and branches extending in all directions, symbolizing exploration and the freedom of choice. It emphasizes delving into the world of our forebears while enjoying the freedom to chart your own journey!
Let’s bring a crucial shift to how we look at Anishinaabemowin (the Ojibwe language).
Let’s break through the limitations of Western grammar and do justice to the deeper, spiritual reality of inwewin—the language.
Words are not abstract codes to be memorized for a test. They are carriers of a living worldview.
So, as we sit at the Language Tree, let’s ask a radical question: we are always told that Anishinaabe languages uniquely hold concepts of relationship, movement, and responsibility. But... has Anishinaabemowin itself become a colonized language?
Let’s look at the word aki, which we translate as earth or land. Aki comes from the verb akiiwan, which means "it is the earth, it is becoming land."
We use the term Anishinaabe aki (or Anishinaabewaki) to denote the land of the Ojibwe Peoples.
Now, think about the phrase: Ashkaakamigokwe nindakinoo'amaagewikwe. It means: “Green Earth Woman (the Earth) is my teacher.”
Another way we say it is Gookomisinaan nindakinoo'amaagewikwe: “Our Grandmother is our teacher.”
The Ojibwe word for "teach" is akinoo'amaage. Look closely at that word. It merges aki (earth) and noo'amaage (to take directions from).
Literally, to learn means to take directions from the Earth/Land.
Akinoo'amaagewin: Taking directions from the Earth/Land.
In our worldview, Aki is our mother or grandmother. The land is a giant, living organism.
Right now, during certain seasons, she might be in a dormant, resting state. In the language, this resting state is expressed by the plural form: akiin.
The -in ending doesn't imply that she is an inanimate or soulless object; rather, it indicates that she is a living being who is presently inert or asleep.
Depending on how you look at her, she has many sacred names:
Aki-gimaamaaminaan: Our Mother the Earth"
Gookomisinaan: "Our Grandmother"
Ogashiwan: "Earth-Mother" (Literally: "His/her Mother")
Gigashinaan: "Earth-Mother" (Literally: "Our Mother")
Ashkaakamigokwe: "Green (Raw) Earth Woman"
Omizakamigokwe: "Everywhere on Earth Woman"
Mikinaakominis: "Turtle Island"
Every single one of these names describes a grandmother, a woman, or a turtle. They all prove that the earth is a living, breathing, animate entity.
But here is the glitch.
Today, most academic Ojibwe grammarians and language instructors will tell you that the earth, at least grammatically, is inanimate.
Let’s be real about what "inanimate" actually means in English: Lacking life. Inert. Dead. Inorganic. Insentient. Soulless.
How can the land be considered dead? How can Mother Earth, the source of everything we are, be viewed as a lifeless entity devoid of warmth and spirit?
How can she be called "motionless" when she is literally hurtling through space, orbiting the Sun at this very second?
I imagine Wenabozho rolling their eyes.
PART 2: WENABOZHO AND THE SPIRITUAL LOGIC OF OUR LANGUAGE
Countless lifetimes ago, when the land resurfaced after the great flood like a giant turtle shell, it was Wenabozho who journeyed across Turtle Island, naming everything in existence.
Wenabozho, an androgynous being who is both human and spirit, famous for their shapeshifting skills, did not just watch from a distance; they created a bond with their surroundings. Through transformation, Wenabozho transcended human limitations to understand the essence of mountains, rivers, trees, and animals.
By naming aki, the world, Wenabozho gave us gidinwewininaan—our language. Because of Wenabozho, Ojibwemowin is a language of action, relationship, unity, and connection.
The problem is that the Western grammar frameworks used in schools today still force a rigid, artificial wall between the "animate" (alive) and "inanimate" (dead). This binary doesn't represent who we are.
Our ancestors knew that everything possesses a form of spirit or energy. It can be actively alive or passively alive—but it is always alive.
The idea of "inanimacy" was completely alien to the Anishinaabeg before Europeans arrived.
So, why are we still teaching it this way? Why is this spiritual perspective such a hot potato?
Since the 1970s, funding and institutional programs have driven how Anishinaabemowin is taught. For nearly fifty years, salaried teachers and linguists have clung to these strict Western rules.
That resistance is understandable, but it’s deeply unfortunate. It keeps our language disconnected from its true izhinamowin (cosmology).
This is the bittersweet truth of decolonization: what institutions label as "new" or "radical" is actually just the original, deep philosophy that was sidelined by assimilation, Christianization, and Western schooling.
Forcing Anishinaabemowin into Western "animate vs. inanimate" grammar boxes is peak Zhaaganaash energy—and it completely misses the vibe.
The Zhaaganaash (Western) way tries to put everything into a rigid binary: either it’s alive (has a spirit) or it’s dead (lacking a spirit). But forcing that linear system onto our language just doesn't work. Anishinaabemowin isn't meant to be boxed in—it is rooted in healing, storytelling, and the circular flow of all living things.
If we want to protect our worldview and keep it completely distinct from Zhaaganaash mindsets, we have to reclaim the language on our own terms. That means learning and speaking it exactly how our ancestors did—free from colonizer grammar rules.
The real key to understanding our spiritual, cyclical relationship with the world is already in the language. We just have to speak it loud, proud, and unfiltered.
The older generation of teachers had to use rigid Western grammatical models just to get our language recognized by white universities and school boards. They were protecting the language the only way they knew how.
But in doing so, they accidentally created a blind spot for the spiritual logic of Anishinaabemowin.
Our ancestors didn't build walls between different ways of existing. When the traditional Elders speak, their very sentence structures flow with the understanding that we are surrounded by a living, conscious universe.
The land, the drums, the pipes, the animals, the plants, the trees—they were, and still are, recognized as living entities.
Geget sa go—indeed, the reason most institutional teachers cling to this rigid "alive vs. dead" dichotomy usually comes down to funding, job security, and Western accreditation.
Decades of standardizing the curriculum for English speakers forced our language into Latin or Germanic boxes.
Let’s be honest: it’s way "easier" for a teacher to just tell a classroom that a word is inanimate because it ends in -an, -in, or -oon, and animate because it ends in -ag or -oog.
But by taking the easy route, they skip the beautiful, fluid cycle where the very nature of an entity can change.
Indigenous languages, such as Anishinaabemowin, are deeply tied to the environment where they are used; they hold rich, detailed and technical knowledge about the local plants, animals, and habitats. When these languages disappear, this knowledge disappears too, never to return.
PART 3: EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE IS ALIVE
Before the Church and the boarding schools messed with the Anishinaabe worldview, everything was seen as alive. Our traditional language makes this undeniably clear:
Gakina gegoo bimaadad
Gakina awiya bimaadiziwag.
"Every-thing is alive.
Every-one is alive."
Contrary to what school textbooks say, Anishinaabemowin is built entirely on relationships and interactions between two dynamic, interconnected forms of existence. Think of it as an ancient, complex software system of the soul.
" One thing for sure is that all things have life inside of them. Seeds, stones (create sparks), shells, have the spark of life. The drum (wood), the rattle (hide, metal, or wood) has memory of its original life. They are really alive." — The late Mikinaakwajiwing (Turtle Mountain) elder Jessie Cree
To make it clear, let’s call these forms bimaadizi and bimaadad. Both words come from bimaadiziwin, which means LIFE, or more deeply, the conduct for living.
Instead of "alive vs. dead," these categories represent two different types of aliveness, and they are completely fluid. The context of what’s happening determines which quality a word takes on, and it can change in an instant:
Bimaadizi (Active Aliveness / Animate 1): This applies to entities that move, breathe, or actively engage with the world—like humans, animals, and standing trees. ("She/he is alive.")
Bimaadad (Latent Aliveness / Animate 2): This applies to entities that might seem still at first glance, but possess a deep intrinsic life force, energy, or spirit—like the land, rocks, man-made ceremonial objects, or cut wood. ("It lives.")
Anishinaabemowin recognizes two interfluid life forms, bimaadizi and bimaadad, determined by energy being active or passive, and their current relationship with the world.
When you break down the roots of bimaadizi and bimaadad, the code reveals itself:
bim- = along in space or time, by
-aad = way of being, character, nature
-izi = she/he is in a specific state
-ad = it is in a specific state
Geget, naturally, bringing this original linguistic paradigm forward faces resistance from institutions. But that shouldn’t discourage us. Our language, deeply rooted in ancient Algonkian heritage, deserves better than a watered-down Western copy.
We need an unapologetic approach that restores the language to its spiritual, verb-focused roots. Why? Because it completely shatters Western duality.
Instead of tripping over linguistic contradictions when a supposedly "inanimate" object (like a sacred drum, pipe, or the Earth itself) suddenly exhibits alive traits, our focus shifts to the nature of its aliveness.
Take a makak (a birch bark basket). In a modern classroom, it’s labeled "inanimate" (bimaadad).
But in our worldview, that basket retains the memory and spiritual essence of the living tree (bimaadizi) it came from. The life force didn't vanish; it just shifted into a latent, resting form.
When linguists insist on labeling aki (the earth) or makakoon (birchbark baskets) as completely inanimate, they miss the incredible flexibility that fluent speakers and Elders naturally carry.
A fluent speaker, depending on the ceremonial or narrative context, can intentionally choose to alter the animacy of an entity through the language.
Let me give you a cosmic example.
According to our teachings, long before the physical world existed, there was only the Great Mystery—a state of being akin to a Dream or a Vision.
This Vision held a vast sky with countless stars, a day-sun, a night-sun, and the earth represented as a giant sea turtle beneath it all. Eventually, this Dream materialized into rock, water, fire, and wind.
These substances emerged spontaneously from the Mystery, and each was infused with the sacred breath of life we call GICHI-MANIDOO (the Great Mystery, or the sum of all Mysteries).
These four sacred substances—each endowed with its own unique soul, spirit, nature, and shadow—formed the Cosmos.
This new Order was filled with akiwag (worlds/planets). This cosmic family unit consisted of the Sun, the stars, the Moon, and the Earth.
The vital life force of Gichi-Manidoo animated every single one of these relatives.
We already know that when we look at the earth as our immediate home, aki belongs to the latently alive category (bimaadad), ending in -in (akiin) to show she is currently in a resting state. But the language goes deeper.
When seen as part of that broader cosmic family, the earth is just one of many worlds. In Ojibwe, a planet is called aki, but its plural is akiwag.
That -ag suffix belongs to the bimaadizi (Active Aliveness) category! This proves that the way we relate to an entity determines its category of life.
Everything that grows from Nimaamaa Aki (Mother Earth)—the trees, moss, plants, flowers, and grass—is alive.
A living tree (mitig) is actively alive (bimaadizi). When that tree is cut down and crafted into a wooden chair or a cradleboard, it shifts into a resting aliveness (bimaadad).
But this goes both ways! In our aadizookewin (sacred storytelling), a spoken story that might seem passive on paper (bimaadad) suddenly comes to life when narrated to an audience, transforming into a living, spiritual presence (bimaadizi).
Now, think about collecting mashkiki (medicine). Let's take a look at moss.
From the Ojibwe viewpoint, every plant, such as moss, is considered mashkiki and is appreciated for its role in enhancing health and hygiene. In the Ojibwe belief, all plants possess healing properties.
Early white, male ethnographers only interviewed men, completely missing how ikwewag (women) used moss for vital community care. Because moss was tied to traditional women’s work—like midwifery, infant care, period hygiene, and wound healing—Western botanical surveys completely erased this critical Indigenous medical knowledge.
Mashkikiikewikwe: A Medicine Making Woman
The word breaks down into:
mashkiiki: medicine. It is a compound or contraction of two core components:
• mashkawizi: A verb meaning "to have strength, power, or inner strength" (sometimes broken down further to the root mashka for strength).
• aki: A noun meaning "earth, land, or planet."
mashkikiike: a verb meaning "to gather or produce herbal medicine." Translated contextually as "gathering strength from the earth."
mashkikiike-(w)ikwe: medicine making-woman, literally: "gathering strength from the earth woman."
In the Anishinaabe worldview, plants and natural remedies embody the literal, physical, and spiritual power provided by Mother Earth.
Moss, in the Ojibwe language, has many names. Akii, aki, and asaakamig are a few. You'll observe that each of these moss species includes the word "earth" (aki).
The plural forms of these various moss species end as follows:
Akii (belonging to the bimaadaizi/animate 1 category): akiig
Aki (belonging to the bimaadad/animate 2 category): akiin
Asaakamig (belonging to the bimaadad/animate 2 category): asaakamigoon
When you pull a piece of reindeers moss or bear's bed moss (both named asaakamig) from the soil to place it in your basket for healing, you are interacting with the earth.
The moment that particle of earth and moss shifts from being a resting part of the landscape into an active participant in your healing journey, it transforms.
Grammatically, this shift from one form of aliveness to another is captured instantly by the language, changing its plural form to an -ig ending.
Particles of earth and moss that shift from being inertly alive to actively alive—because they are now interacting with the person collecting the medicine—become bimaadizi.
Regarding their plural endings:
Akiin turn into akiig.
Asaakamigoon turn into asaakamigoog.
Two other beautiful examples of the bimaadad/bimaadizi shift are zhiishiigwan (a rattle) and gashkibidaagan (a pipe bag). In most everyday Ojibwe dialects, these two items are classified in the resting, bimaadad category.
However, the moment they are brought out and ritually used in a ceremony, they wake up. They begin to exhibit characteristics that belong completely to the active, bimaadizi class.
The word zhiishiigwan is intrinsically linked to the natural cycles of renewal and is directly sourced from ziigwan, the Ojibwe verb for spring.
When you analyze the etymological and cosmological connection, you find:
The Root Word: The fundamental root of zhiishiigwan (and its Cree cognate sisikwun) is ziigwan (spring).
The Verb Origin: The word ziigwan comes from the Anishinaabe verb ziiga'anjige, which means "to pour". The core morpheme ziigw signifies dumping or pouring. More on this later.
Literal Meaning: Since ziigwan literally translates to a "(time of) pouring"—referring to the melting snow, flowing tree sap, and rivers of the vernal equinox—the rattle is inherently connected to this sound and movement. The rattle's sound imitates the trickling of water beneath melting ice. When Mother Earth shakes her zhiishiigwan, it is this precise cosmic and physical "pouring" action that awakens living creatures from their long winter slumber.
At the same time, the word zhiishiigwan is directly linked to zhiishiigwe, the Ojibwe term for rattlesnake. Both terms are closely associated through sound imitation. Both originate from the rattling, shaking noise they create. Simultaneously, the sounds of the ceremonial rattle and the rattlesnake imitates and evokes the sounds of early spring, a season symbolizing renewal and life.
Zhiishiigwan is created by adding the nominalizing suffix -n to the snake's name, transforming the living action into an object. In this sense, zhiishiigwan literally translates to "the tool that makes the hollow rattlesnake sound." Shaking a zhiishiigwan physically replicates the dry, rustling rattle of the snake. Here, we observe a conceptual shift: While the rattlesnake (zhiishiigwe) holds a category 1 animate (bimaadizi) quality as a living, active entity, the rattle (zhiishiigwan) transitions into a category 2 animate (bimaadad) linguistic form, while embodying the spirit and voice of the animal's sound.
Now, let's explore the term for pipe bag, gashkibidaagan (plural: gashkibidaaganan and/or gashkibidaagananag).
When you analyze the construction of the word, it originates from the verb gashkibidoon, meaning "to wrap and tie an object in a bundle."
The word breaks down into:
gashkibid- = the action of wrapping and tying
-aagan = the piece that turns that action into a noun
Do you see the magic in how these words are constructed? Because Anishinaabemowin is a verb-based language, most nouns are actually actions frozen in time.
So, what transforms a pipe bag into a living, active entity in the present moment? And how does that spiritual shift change its grammar?
A pipe bag might start out as a resting bimaadad entity. But through frequent ceremonial use, it gradually transforms into bimaadizi.
As the keeper regularly handles it, opens it, smudges it, and closes it, they are spiritually "reactivating" the bundle.
Over time, the bag and the sacred items resting inside—the opwaagan (pipe) and asemaa (tobacco)—become a unified, active bimaadizi entity.
Flip the script, and the opposite is also true. That exact same bag could return to a resting, bimaadad state if it is neglected, left inside a dark drawer, and forgotten for a long time.
The language tracks our relationships. When we neglect things, their aliveness rests. When we engage with them, they wake up.
(To dive even deeper into this specific teaching, make sure to check out my full story: Reflections on a Ceremonial Bundle and on the Nature of Our Language).
PART 4: WHAT MAKES THE OJIBWE LANGUAGE DIFFERENT FROM EUROPEAN LANGUAGES?
We have already discovered that – contrary to what many Ojibwe language instructors might suggest – Anishinaabemowin lacks words that can be considered inanimate. What else can be emphasized about our language to illustrate that it should not be treated like, for instance, Zhaaganaashiimowin (English)?
Anishinabemowin, contrary to European languages that are basically noun-based, is a spiritual language.
Why is our language a spiritual language? The action-based aspect that you find in practically every Ojibwe word reflects the Seven Grandfather Teachings in terms of taking responsibility and action to protect the land and the water.
My late friend Jessie Cree, an Elder from Mikinaakwajiwing, once shared with me: "One thing is certain—everything, and therefore the words that describe these things, contains life within them. Seeds, stones (which create sparks), and shells possess the spark of life. The drum (made of wood) and the rattle (made of hide, metal, or wood) retain the memory of their original life. They are truly alive."
In addition to its spiritual motivation, the Ojibwe language is highly descriptive because it emphasizes dynamic verb actions, with verbs conveying action and movement. These actions frequently reflect a think-sense-feel process. In our language, both verbs and nouns, which are often derived from verbs, are centered around action.
Various natural phenomena illustrate this outward action. For example, the Anishinaabe word for spring is ziigwan, which is a verb. Although it is often translated as "be spring" or it is spring," it literally means "pouring." Spring is the time when new life emerges from the earth as seeds of flowers and trees.
When analyzing "ziigwan," you will discover that the morpheme /ziigw/ signifies "dump, pour"; «ziigo» /ziigw-iw/ means "s/he is a pouring," and «ziigwe» /ziigw-a-iw/ translates to "s/he has a pouring." Consequently, the term ziigwan translates to "(time of) pouring," referring to "spring." Similarly, the word "zaagi' (love) also implies a pouring quality—or emotion, if you prefer. Both ziigwan (and, for example, the verb zaagijiwan, flow out) and zaagi' convey an outward action of pouring! The painting titled "Birth of Spring" beautifully embodies this theme.
In Anishinaabemowin, verb conjugations do not use personal pronouns. Instead, personal prefixes and suffixes (affixes) are used. These affixes indicate who is performing an action and whom or what the action affects. Personal affixes (prefix + suffix) form parts of a word.
For example, the English phrase "I love you" becomes a single word in Ojibwe: gi-zaagi-in (you-love-I). The same applies to gi-zhawenim-in: (you-care for-I). Similarly, "I see you" and "I shall see you" are each expressed as one word in Ojibwe: gi-waabam-in (you-see-I) and gi-ga-waabam-in (you-will-see-I), respectively.
Gizaagi'in
Gizhawenimin
Giwaabamin
The arrangement of syllables within words and the construction of sentences offer valuable insights into Anishinaabemowin. Because each word contains its own grammatical markers, the order of words is much less crucial than in analytic languages like English.
The sentence structure of modern, textbook Ojibwe has nearly entirely shifted from the syntax (word order) of the traditional language. While older native speakers can understand the non-standard sentences spoken by their parents and grandparents, second-language learners struggle to comprehend these when listening to the elders.
Contemporary speakers, especially those who speak Ojibwe as a second language, tend to use Zhaaganaash syntax. In contrast, in earlier times, when Ojibwe was not yet influenced by European elements, the majority of Ojibwe words were structured in a manner opposite or reversed from Zhaaganaash.
In fact, older native speakers will say that there is absolutely no fixed word order at all!
Anishinaabemowin is a highly synthetic language, allowing a single word to express a full sentence or intricate concept. The word order and sentence structure in Ojibwe are quite flexible, as a lot of information is embedded within a verb. An individual Ojibwe verb or noun can convey an idea that would take multiple words or a whole clause in English!
Example:
Aniibiishaabookewinini: "an East Asian (Chinese or Japanese) person."
Aniibiishaabookewikwe: "an East Asian (Chinese or Japanese) woman."
Aniib, meaning elm tree.
With the suffix -iish, aniibiish, meaning leaf.
With (w)aaboo, meaning liquid, aniibiishaaboo, meaning leaf-water or tea.
With -ke, converting a noun into a verb, becoming aniibiishaabooke, the act of making tea.
Then with -(w)inini or -(wi)kwe turning a verb into a noun meaning the doer of that verb, becomes aniibiishaabookewinini, or aniibiishaabookewikwe, "tea-maker," East Asian person/man/woman.
When assembled entirely, the verb aniibiishaabooke (the act of brewing tea) + winini (man/person) or ikwe (woman) creates a single descriptive noun: "the person (man or woman) who makes tea".
In English, subject-verb (SV) and subject-verb-object (SVO) are common syntax orders (though the order can vary based on the sentence's structure and complexity), whereas in Ojibwe, there is no fixed word order. However, Ojibwe syntax (particularly in transitive constructions) often follows a Verb-Object-Subject (VOS) pattern, though not always.
In Ojibwe, the subject can appear before or after the verb, as can the object (SV or VS); however, the subject and object together rarely precede the verb. A general rule is that the participant considered more important or in-focus by the speaker is placed first, before the verb, with the less important participant following the verb. Additionally, a VS (verb–subject) order is typically used when subjects are identified with separate nouns or pronouns.
Example: When you want to say "The little people reside in an underground house," in "correct textbook" Ojibwe, you could follow the Verb-Object-Subject (VOS) order, where the verb comes first, followed by an object and a subject:
Daawag anaamakamig akiiwigaaning (iniw) memegwesiwag.
Daawag/ anaamakamig/ akiiwigaaning/ (iniw)/ memegwesiwag.
Literally translated:
They-live/ underground/ in-a-groundhouse/ (-those- )/ little-people. The order is VS (verb-subject).
This is merely one way to phrase it! The sequence of words in a sentence isn't set in stone. Remember that older speakers often alter the word order depending on their mood and the situation.
Additionally, there is the syllabic arrangement, demonstrating that our language prioritizes verbs and actions and is inherently more "empathic" than European languages, which often emphasize the "I" form rather than focusing on the person being addressed.
I-love-you (English) versus you-love-I (Ojibwe).
I-see-you (English) versus you-see-I (Ojibwe)
An illustration of how Ojibwe words (verbs and nouns) are frequently constructed from think-sense-feel-act elements is the word for drum: "dewe'igan." Dewe'igan originates from the verb/verbal components <<de>> (heart) and <<we>> (sounding/performing an action); <<-igan>> is a nominalizing suffix that converts a verb root into a noun (an instrument or tool that performs the action).
Dewe'igan thus means "instrument that makes the circular (returning) sound of the heart."
The origin of the word dewe'igan reflects the Ojibwe perspective: its linguistic elements merge the idea of the heart (ode') with sound (wewe), designating the drum as a vibrant, resonating voice that conveys prayers and songs.
This root connection also appears in the word dewe''iganaatig (drumstick), which is formed from <<de> and <<we>>, combined with the nominalizer <<-igan>> and the final <<-aatig>> (organic solid wood). Additionally, there is a notable correlation with the word for "truth," debwewin, which stems from speaking or making a sound from the heart.
To see more examples of dynamic verbs and nouns in the Ojibwe language, check out: Understanding Ojibwe Verb Classification Techniques for Language Learners.
For an in-depth analysis of Anishinaabemowin as a polysynthetic, action-based language and its word order, see: Why Bears Never Speak Backward but Some Indians Do.
PART 5: LET'S BRING OUR LANGUAGE BACK TO ITS ROOTS IN THE EARTH
While some of the institutional establishment will continue to hold onto rigid, English-based teaching methods, a shift is happening.
My late friend, Elder Jessie Cree from Mikinaawajiing (Turtle Mountain, ND), and I spent countless hours discussing this.
Through the feedback on our stories and lessons, we noticed a little spark catching fire within the younger generation of Anishinaabe language learners.
This gives me hope that the "new old" approach Jessie and I poured our hearts into is starting to bear fruit.
Over the past few years, we realized that Indigenous Gen-Z learners are no longer settling for a language limited to rigid grammar rules.
Why stick to conventional academic linguistics when you can adopt a different teaching framework such as our Language Tree learning system, which aligns more closely with the language of your ancestors?
You aren't looking for a textbook; you are seeking identity, healing, and a way of thinking that exists entirely outside the colonial matrix.
For you, the bimaadizi/bimaadad framework isn't just abstract grammar—it’s a direct reconnection to your ancestors.
Jessie has traveled on to the spirit world, but his spirit remains woven into our work. And I am still here, full of life, carrying the spark forward.
To the younger learners reading this: let’s collaborate. Let’s trade ideas, share recommendations, and lift each other up.
The more I listen to Elders who are native speakers, the more I understand that merely learning to speak and write the language based on English grammar rules is insufficient.
Anishinaabemowin is a language that connects more deeply with the heart than the mind. Integrating gidinwewininaan, our Indigenous languages, into the Western educational framework can be harmful, as it undermines the language's structure and our unique way of thinking. Elders and the younger generation often struggle to communicate in the language. It is essential to create teaching methods and lesson plans that prioritize pronunciation over strict grammatical rules. The moment to change our approach is now. Our Elders are aging, and we cannot afford to wait.
Let’s take our language out of the clinical classrooms and bring it back to Aki, the earth, where it truly belongs. Let’s sow the seeds so that you can become the educators and language-keepers of the future.
Let's honor our ancestor Wenabozho, who walked this land, named the spirit of everything, and left us the language to remember who we are.
Mii sa ekoozid. Miigwech bezindamoyan noongom mii dash gidibaajimotoon wa’aw gikinoo'amaagewin. That concludes the story. Thank you for listening today, for letting me share this teaching with you. Giga-waabamin wayiiba, I look forward to seeing you again soon.
Examples of Ojibwe verbs and, where relevant, their corresponding nouns:
(For a comprehensive explanation of the Ojibwe verb type definitions used, consult 'Understanding Ojibwe Verb Classification Techniques for Language Learners.')
Live/be alive – bimaadizi. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Bimaadiziwin' (life, or conduct for living) is the noun that corresponds to bimaadizi . Plural form: bimaadiziwinan. Note that bimaadiziwin belongs to the animate 2 (bimaadad) category.Exist (temporal) – akii. Verb category 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Akiiwin' (temporal existence, life) is the noun related to akii (animate 2 category). Plural form: akiiwanan.Be earth/land/world – akiiwan. Verb cat. 2 animate intransitive (VAN(2)IN) 'Verb with an intransitive stem; a cat. 2 animate subject and no object.'Be springtime – ziigwan. Verb cat. 2 animate intransitive (VAN(2)IN). This verb is frequently used to represent springtime–as though it were a noun. Transform into a manitou, a spirit; gain supernatural or spiritual power; become an individual with supernatural or spiritual abilities – manidoowi. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Manidoo' (spirit or mystery) is the animate 1 category noun that corresponds to manidoowi . Plural form: manidoog. Dream – bawaajige. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Bawaajigan' (a dream) is the noun that corresponds to bawaajige . Note that bawaajigan (plural: bawaajiganan) belongs to the animate 2 (bimaadad) category.Be a cloud – aanakwadowan. Verb cat. 2 animate intransitive (VAN(2)IN). 'Aanakwad' (cloud) is the noun that corresponds to aanakwadowan (animate 2 category).Eat – wiisini. This is an animate intransitive verb from category 1 (VAN(1)IN); however, the Southeastern Ojibweg and Odaawaag (Odawa) place this verb in the category 2 animate intransitive (VAN(2)IN). 'Wiisiniwin' (food) is generally the animate 2 category noun that corresponds to wiisini . Plural form: wiisiniwinan. Walk along/by – bimose. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN).Fly about/around – babaamise. This verb falls into either category 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN) verbs or category 2 animate intransitive (VAN(2)IN) verbs.See someone – waabam. Verb transitive cat. 1 animate (VTRAN(1)) 'Verb with a transitive stem and cat. 1 animate object.' Example: Niwaabamaa waawaashkeshi, "I see the deer." Waawaashkeshi, a deer, is a noun in the category 1 animate class, meaning it is considered 'someone,' a 1st category alive 'person.' Plural: waawaashkeshiwag. See something – waabandan. Verb cat. 2 with a transitive stem and a cat. 2 animate object (VTRAN(2)) of the /-am/ theme. 'Waabiwin' (seeing; plural waabiwinan) is a noun that corresponds to waabandan.Eat someone – amwi. Verb transitive category 1 animate (VTRAN(1)) 'Verb with a transitive stem and category 1 animate object of the /-i/ theme.' For example: nindamwaa awe zaasakokwaani-bakwezhigan, I eat that frybread.' (Awe) zaasakokwaani-bakwezhigan, (that) frybread, is a noun in the category 1 animate class, meaning it is considered 'someone,' a 1st category alive 'person.'Eat something – miijin. Verb transitive category 2 animate of class 3 (VTRAN(2)-3): A type of VTRAN(2) verb that describes an action performed by an animate cat. 1 subject (a person or being considered actively alive) on an animate cat. 2 object (a living being regarded latently alive), characterized by the theme suffix /-i/.
'Miijim' (food) is generally the animate 2 category noun that corresponds to miijin . Plural form: Miijiman.
Defecate on someone – miijin. Verb transitive category 1 animate (VTRAN(1)) 'Verb with a transitive stem and category 1 animate object.' The verb describes the action (the act of shitting/crapping on something/someone) done by a cat.1 animate subject to another cat.1 animate object.Believe – debwe'endam. This verb falls into the VAN(1)IN-FTS 1 animate intransitive category, typically including verbs related to emotions, thoughts, or sounds.Think – naagadawendam. This verb falls into the VAN(1)IN-FTS 1 animate intransitive category, typically including verbs related to emotions, thoughts, or sounds.Laugh – baapi. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Baapiwin' (laughter) is the noun that corresponds to baapi . Note that baapiwin (plural: baapiwinan) belongs to the animate 2 category.Love (care for) someone; have mercy/compassion for someone – zhawenim. This verb is classified as an animate intransitive verb in category 1 (VAN(1)IN).Love someone; love people - zaagi'iwe. This verb is classified as an animate intransitive verb in category 1 (VAN(1)IN).Love, be fond of, treasure someone; love someone romantically – zaagi'. Verb transitive category 1 animate (VTRAN(1)).Love something, be fond of something, treasure something - zaagitoon. Verb transitive category 2 animate of class 2 (VTRAN(2)-2): A type of VTRAN(2) verb that describes an action performed by an animate cat. 1 subject (a person or being considered actively alive) on an animate cat. 2 object (a living being regarded latently alive), characterized by the theme suffix /-oo/.
Sing – nagamo. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Nagamon' (song) and nagamowin ('singing') are nouns that correspond to manidoowi . Note that nagamon (plural: nagamonan) and nagamowin belong to the animate 2 (bimaadad) category.Hope – apenimo. Verb cat. 1 animate intransitive (VAN(1)IN). 'Apenimowin' (hope) is the noun that corresponds to apenimo. Note that apenimowin (plural: apenimowinan) belongs to the animate 2 (bimaadad) category.Drink a beverage (either an animate cat. 1 or animate cat. 2 item) – minikwe. Verb cat.1 animate intransitive with an optional object (VAN(1)IN + o). 'Minikwewin' (a drink; alcohol) is the noun that corresponds to minikwe. Note that minikwewin (plural form: minikwewinan) belongs to the animate 2 (bimaadad) category.
NOTE: When forming a sentence and including a word like a tree, plant, animal, human, ancestor, rock, stone pipe, soil, clouds, rainbow, wooden table, or a traditional story, consider: Does it belong to the bimaadizi beings, or could it be bimaadad, which represents a different type of 'living existence'?
It's important to ensure that the animateness of the subject, object, and pronoun(s) aligns with the verb. Identifying the class of animacy the word belongs to is essential. Therefore, when constructing a sentence, whether speaking or writing, ensure the animacy state of a verb matches that of the pronoun and/or noun.
For example:
Bimaadizi a'w ikwe: That woman is alive.
bimaadizi: (she) is alive, verb animate(1) intransitive (AN(1)).
a'aw: that. A'aw(e) is a demonstrative pronoun classified under the bimaadizi (animate 1) category.
ikwe: woman. Ikwe is a noun of the bimaadizi (animate 1) category.
Niwaabandaan iniwe wajiwan: I see those mountains.
niwaabandaan: I see something (verb animate(2) intransitive (AN(2)); meaning I see something that falls under the bimaadad/animate 2 category).
iniwe: those. Iniw(e) is a demonstrative pronoun that falls under the bimaadad (animate 2) category.
wajiwan: mountains. Wajiw (singular) is a noun belonging to the bimaadad (animate 2) category.
Examples of nouns in the bimaadizi ("she/he lives") category:
The sun – giizis, plural: giizisoog (Note: giizis literally translates to 'luminary.')The moon – dibiki-giizis, plural: dibiki-giizisoogA star – anang, plural: anangoog (in some dialects or in a different context, stars may belong to the bimaadad category)Spirit ; mystery; a being with spiritual power – manidoo, plural: manidoogA world; a planet – aki, plural: akiwagMoss - adakii; akii, plural: adakiig; akiigA tree –mitig, plural: mitigoogA birch tree – wiigwaas; wiigwaasaatig; wiigwaasi-mitig, plural: wiigwaasag; wiigwaasaatigoog; wiigwaasi-mitigoogCedar tree - giizhik, plural: giizhikagAn uterus - abinoojiinh gaa-abidjig, plural: abinoojiinyag gaa-abidjigTobacco – asemaa, plural: asemaagA Midewiwin medicine pouch - midewayaan, plural: midewayaanagA corn plant - mandaamin, plural: mandaaminagAn animal – awesiinh, plural: awesiinyagA human being; a person - anishinaabe; bemaadizid, plural: anishinaabeg; bemaadizijig or bemaadiziwaadAn ancestor – aanikoobijigan, plural: aanikoobijiganagA snowshoe - aagima, plural: aagimaagA rock or a stone – asin, plural: asiniigA stone pipe (for smoking) - asinii-opwaagan, plural: asinii-opwaaganagA metal kettle - akik, plural: akikoogA drum; a hand drum - dewe'igan, plural: dewe'iganagBannock or bannock flour – bakwezhigan, plural: bakwezhiganagA spoon – emikwaan (in some dialects or in a different context spoons may belong to the bimaadad category), plural: emikwaanag/emikwaananA hawk – gekek, plural: gekekwag A grandfather of the nonhuman class or, often a protagonist in sacred stories - aadizookan, plural: aadizookanagExamples of nouns in the bimaadad ("it lives") category:
The earth/land – aki; akii, plural: akiinSoil (the earth, the land, a country) – aki; azhashki, plural: akiin; azashkiinMoss (edible) – asaakamig, plural: asaakamigoonA dream – bawaajigan, plural: bawaajigananA vision – izhinamowin, plural: izhinamowinanA vision quest: makadekewin, plural: makadekewinanWood - mitig, plural: mitigoonA tree or plant root – ojiibik, plural: ojiibikan or -oonMoss – -aasaakamig, plural: aasaakamigoonA flower – waabigwan, plural: waabigwaniinSweetgrass – wiingashk, plural: wiingashkoonSage - mashkodewahsk, plural: maskhodewashkoonA ceremonial bundle - biinjigosan or biindakinaan, plural: biinjigosanan or biindakinaananA ceremonial rattle - zhiishiigwan, plural: zhiishiigwananThe sky - giizhig, plural: giizhigoonA day - giizhig, plural: giizhigoonA cloud - anakewad, plural: aanakwadoon A rainbow - nagweyaab, plural: nagweyaabiinA table - adoopowin; adoopowinaak; plural: adoopowinan; adoopowinaakoonFire, a fire - ishkode, plural: ishkodenA ceremonial rattle - zhiishiigwan, plural: zhiishiigwananA medicine bag - biinjigosan, biinjigosaan, plural: biinjigosanan; biinjigosaananMeat – wiiyaas, plural: wiiyaasan (in another context, meat might be classified under the bimaadizi category and end with -ag)Birch bark - wiigwaas, plural: wiigwaasanA birchbark container (a basket or box) - makak, plural: makakoonA wigwam (house, lodge) - wiigwaam, plural: wiigiwaamanA mountain – wajiw, plural: wajiwanA moccasin, a shoe – makizin, plural: makizinanA fork – badaka’igan, plural: badaka’igananA cup or small disk - onaagaans, plural: onaagaansanA lake – zaaga’igan, plural zaaga’iganan or zaaga’iganiinLove - zaagi'iwewin, plural zaagi'iwewinanMutual love – zaagi'idiwin, plural zaagi'idiwinanA traditional (sacred) story – aadizookaan, plural: aadizookaanan (in some dialects or in a different context traditional stories may belong to the bimaadizi category and end on -ag)SUGGESTED READING:
>For further reading on the topic of animacy in grammar, see: Teachings from the Language Tree, part 4
>For a more technical insight in the Ojibwe language, see: Ojibwe Verb Classification Techniques for Learners
>For further reading on the topic of the Language Tree, see: The Truth of Decolonization - Why We Must Nurture Our Language tree
ILLUSTRATIONS:
From the top down:
Mikinaakominis ("Turtle Island") ©2026 Painting by Zhaawano Giizhik
Ziigwan Ondaadiziwin ("Birth of Spring) ©2026 Painting by Zhaawano Giizhik
"Ancestors at the Roots of the Anishinaabe Language Tree" ©2026 Painting by Zhaawano Giizhik
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