Chiri Yukie (知里 幸恵), just nineteen, was no scholar by training. She was a young indigenous woman born into two worlds—one that demanded she conform, and another that she couldn’t bear to see disappear. The Ainu, her people, had long been swallowed by Japan’s attempts at assimilation, their language, Ainu-itak, fading to little more than whispers among the old. But those whispers were loud enough for her to hear.

If you have opened Google Translate in the past few days, you might have noticed a significant number of new languages added. Google Translate, owned by Alphabet (Google), had its biggest update to date, incorporating 110 new languages, including many minority and endangered ones. As one of the largest global corporations and with a near-monopoly in this field, Google is responsible for languages and their communities.

The renowned Japanese band formerly known as MILLENNIUM PARADE has changed its name across all platforms to ꉈꀧ꒒꒒ꁄꍈꍈꀧ꒦ꉈ ꉣꅔꎡꅔꁕꁄ. This new name adopts characters from an endangered script used by one of the Yi language varieties, a group of minority languages spoken in China.

Despite Japanese being Joshua’s first language, viewers often fail to recognize this fact in the comments section of his Japanese-language videos. Instead, they commend his command of the language, expressing surprise and admiration at his fluency.

When I first enrolled in a Design university, I struggled to see how visual design could connect with something as invisible as linguistics. However, I gradually began to uncover the subtle yet profound connections between these two seemingly disparate fields.

Inuk singer-songwriter Elisapie has been sharing her music with the world for over ten years. Her latest album, "Inuktitut" (ᐃᓄᒃᑎᑐᑦ), is a heartfelt tribute to her community, delving into personal experiences of both joy and sorrow, the enduring impact of colonial oppression on her people, and fueled by her profound passion for music.

Contrary to widespread misconceptions, the Inuit communities are far from extinct; they are vibrant and flourishing. When asked why it matters to preserve her language, Inuktitut, Naulaq LeDrew (ᓇᐅᓪᓚᖅ ᓕᑐᕈ,) an artist, elder, and pivotal member of the Toronto urban Inuit community, replies as if the answer is self-evident: "It's important to me because I am alive. ᐃᓅᒐᒪ, ᐃᓅᒐᕕᑦ. Because you are alive."