The ordinariness of translinguistics in Indigenous Australia

The ordinariness of translinguistics in Indigenous Australia Jill Vaughan To appear in Translinguistics: Negotiating Innovation and Ordinariness (edited by Jerry Won Lee & Sender Dovchin), Routledge London. Pp. 90-103. Introduction Recent debates within the sociolinguistics of multilingualism have highlighted the challenges posed by new complexities in the semiotic space of ‘superdiversity’ (Blommaert, 2013), where linguistic repertoires cannot be neatly partitioned according to socially or politically constructed language boundaries (Otheguy, García, & Reid, 2015). The methodological and descriptive toolbox of social scientists has thus been found wanting, and new terms and approaches have been proffered and tested in order to better represent the apparent complexities of this new ‘turn’. It has been noted, however, that discourses framing these processes as ‘new’ tend to focus on the City and the West. Indeed, languages and societies at the ‘periphery’ (Pietikäinen & Kelly-Holmes, 2013) have long been sidelined by hegemonic discourses within linguistics and multilingualism studies due to the sheer volume of work on major world languages in urban and western contexts. This new turn in particular reveals an ‘unreflexive ethnocentrism’ in western sociolinguistics (May, 2016, pp. 12–13), and risks erasing diversities that have long been acknowledged as commonplace in other – for example, Indigenous – settings. As Silverstein (2015, p. 7) frames it, ‘such phenomena that have emerged in the investigation of peripheral local language communities have now gone mainstream at the metropole’. This chapter explores multilingual practices within the context of Indigenous northern Australia through a translingual lens, and considers major discourses produced by academia, local institutions, and local communities that have framed thinking on the topic. I consider the nature of communication in Indigenous Australian communities in historical and contemporary perspective, focusing on how speakers draw on high levels of local linguistic diversity and how they recruit language in socio-indexical practice. Drawing on ethnographic and language documentation data from Arnhem Land (Australia), I highlight that translingual practices born of diversity (and superdiversity) are neither new nor extraordinary and that the supposed ‘new complexities’ of globalisation have significant reflexes in the ‘peripheries’ of its reach. This chapter therefore contributes to the emerging body of work on the ‘ordinariness of translinguistics’ (Dovchin & Lee, 2019) and ‘the ordinariness of diversity’ (Pennycook, 2007, p. 93) in communities around the world. This work has been driven by a desire to normalise the kinds of language practices which are comprised of diverse linguistic resources and which transgress established linguistic boundaries – practices which have been unnecessarily treated as remarkable or even eccentric. The discussion here aligns with work on the translinguistics of ‘peripheral’ communities, especially work in Africa and Asia (e.g., Makoni & Makoni, 2009 on Ghana and South Africa; Lee & Lou, 2019 on South Korea; Bolander & Sultana, 2019, Dovchin, 2017, 2018, Pennycook & Otsuji, 2019, and Sultana, Dovchin, & Pennycook, 2015 on Mongolia, Bangladesh, Pakistan, and Tajikistan). This work has exemplified the ways in which observable translingual practices are crucially situated 1 within intersections between diverse local sociolinguistic affordances and transnational linguistic resources. This chapter responds in particular to Piller’s (2016) critique that sociolinguistic scholarship on multilingualism has focused largely on local languages in relation to English, and indeed few translinguistics studies consider relations between languages that are not major world languages (Canagarajah & Dovchin, 2019 is a notable exception). The data presented here centralises the dynamics between several Australian Indigenous languages, as well as English, with a view to making a small contribution to redressing this balance. Finally, it is hoped that work on translingual practices in northern Australia will contribute to understandings of the richness and diversity of contemporary Indigenous communicative repertoires, with vital implications for language maintenance and multilingual education. Conceptual framework: Languaging at the ‘periphery’ This chapter draws on two key conceptual frames. The first, translinguistics, enables the analysis to move beyond named language categories to reveal the emergent dynamics of situated communication. Translinguistics helps ‘release histories and understandings’ (García & Li Wei, 2014, p. 21) that may be veiled by colonial agendas, western discourses, and local language ideologies. This is especially important in work on the translinguistics of global ‘peripheries’ – the chapter’s second conceptual frame. Languages and communities at the edges of the reach of globalisation have too often been absent or overlooked in the development of linguistic theories and methodologies. The ‘centre’/‘core’ vs. ‘periphery’ metaphor here refers to how political and economic power and social influence have been understood to circulate on both a global scale and within societies, with the urban West imagined as a central base of power in opposition to groups on the margins who do not wield great power within these structures. This opposition is destabilised to an extent by more recent work on migration, mobility, and transnational networks (e.g., Blunt, 2007; Sassen, 1998) which demonstrates that reality is not so neat, but rather that communities are complex and shifting and that boundaries may be fluid. This work has revealed the ‘core’ vs. ‘periphery’ metaphor to ultimately be a discursive construct, and even a performative notion, in the twenty-first century; nevertheless, it is a construct that operates within historically and culturally situated spaces and has great power to shape contemporary practices and systems (Pietikäinen & Kelly-Holmes, 2013). These dynamics have inevitable implications for language. Despite the focuses of some earlier scholarship (such as Americanist work on pre-contact language ecologies (e.g., Boas, 1940), more recent work under the umbrella of bi/multilingualism has taken a somewhat narrow view in modelling how non-monolingual repertoires are deployed in practice (e.g., Fishman’s (1967) influential ‘domain-separation’ model). A western/urban bias has been particularly strong in recently dominant discourses within the ‘trans-super-poly-metro’ turn (Pennycook, 2016). Yet humanity has a long (if not always well-documented) history of non-polyglossic, ‘meshed’, translingual communicative practices which draw on multiple named languages but which do not conform to monolingual or indeed established ‘orderly’ multilingual ideologies. While the archetypal ‘village’ (as opposed to the ‘city’) has been popularly imagined as linguistically homogenous, in reality small, remote communities may be sites of great diversity and connectedness (Canagarajah, 2013, p. 37; Vaughan & Singer, 2018). This is true of the pre-modern west, before linguistic and cultural homogeneity were recruited as tools of the nation-state capitalist enterprise (Heller, 2013), as well as of various contemporary ‘peripheral’ communities largely ignored in recent dominant discourses. While the historical picture is not always readily retrievable, elements of earlier cultural and linguistic systems may be pieced together by consulting 2 diverse early sources (e.g., oral histories, scholarly and governmental writing) and inferring – with caution – from certain modern practices and ideologies. Communicative practices of the translingual type may be observed as perfectly ‘ordinary’ within the rich body of work on highly diverse and multilingual Indigenous communities around the globe. This includes work in Africa (Lüpke, 2017), India (Gumperz & Wilson, 1971), South America (Epps, forthcoming), Australia (Singer & Harris, 2016), and Melanesia (Francois, 2012), to name but a few examples. In the following sections, I add further support to the argument that key principles within translinguistics apply readily, and may indeed be enriched by, communicative contexts at the peripheries of globalisation, in this case in the Arnhem Land region of northern Australia. Specific examples are drawn from naturalistic interactional data, interviews, and in-depth ethnographic work based primarily in ongoing fieldwork and research collaborations in Maningrida since 2014. Language, land, and culture in Arnhem Land Modern-day Australia is home to a diverse and rapidly evolving language ecology. The continent’s traditional Indigenous languages are spoken alongside more recent arrivals – like English and other migrant languages – and a range of contact varieties, most of which have developed since British invasion in 1788. At that time, some 700 named language varieties were in use across the region. The devastating effects of colonisation have dramatically altered the linguistic landscape, however, and now fewer than 20 of these are still subject to intergenerational transfer (McConvell et al., 2005), located mostly across the north and in the centre of Australia. Speaker communities in the region are small by global standards, and it appears that even languages with just a few dozen speakers have been maintained for many generations (Green, 2003). On Australia’s north-central coast, at the mouth of the Liverpool River, Maningrida community serves as a regional ‘hub’ for the Indigenous-owned region Arnhem Land. Maningrida is home to some 2500 people and boasts dramatic coastal scenery, worldrenowned bark and sculptural artists, skilled weavers and textile printers, and unique local wildlife. The region is distinguished by a highly diverse language ecology, with dozens of socially and linguistically recognised languages from several distinct language families. Local estimates vary, but typically between 12 and 16 languages are named in the local space, most with further named sub-lects which may be understood to be distinct languages. Local linguistic repertoires typically take in elements of several traditional languages as well as localised Englishes, often Kriol (an English-lexified creole spoken across northern Australia), and a local alternate sign language system. Texts and talk in Maningrida are rarely monolingual, and the semiotic work of communication transcends individual languages simply placed in sequence. Indeed, it is likely that separating messages into distinct systems in attempting to interpret them may even (in some contexts at least) undermine their meaning. Instead, following Enfield (2009, p. 6) ‘when encountering multiple signs which are presented together, [we should] take them as one’. While it seems that seasonal mobility has long played an important role in socio-cultural and economic life in Indigenous Australian societies, widening social spheres and new 3 trajectories of mobility serving the contemporary life projects of Indigenous Australians1 have had significant ramifications for language maintenance and loss, the make-up of linguistic repertoires, and the deployment of linguistic variation. This mobility further contributes to the fluidity of language group boundaries, and yet traditional languages in Indigenous Australia are ideologised by their speakers as inherently bounded – primordially connected to particular tracts of land which are the eternal homeland of that linguistic variety and its people (Merlan ,1981). These connections between language and land have genuine effects in lived experience. Individuals are understood to own a certain language by virtue of their clan membership, and they inherit language affiliations through kinship structures, with the individual’s father’s language (the patrilect) primary. Further languages are connected to through extended kinship. These connections exert a strong influence on expectations around individuals’ code use, and they project code boundaries into the linguistic field that are attended to and reproduced in discourse to various extents depending on a host of factors, such as domain, speaker role, audience, and genre. ‘Appropriate’ code use is sometimes socially policed. For example, young people may be chastised for using the ‘wrong’ language or dialectal variants, and individuals may be laughed at for ‘trying’ to speak a language not theirs (despite its being within their linguistic repertoire). The school library has a bilingual reader entitled A Drunk Got His Languages Mixed, and on a number of occasions I have heard comments that people speak certain other languages only when drunk; this suggests to me that crossing sociallysalient linguistic boundaries can be viewed as transgressive when the codes are not seen to be the ideologically ‘appropriate’ ones for the speaker. And yet, as we will see, speakers frequently use languages that are not their established patrilect. ‘Doing difference together’: Examples of language use from Arnhem Land In this section, I provide five examples to illustrate the kinds of (trans)languaging practices that are commonplace in daily communication in the Maningrida region. These examples are drawn from interactions in public and semi-private domains observed during my own visits in recent years and the recordings of other linguists working in the region. Most of the speakers featured here are senior community members and participants in two recent sociolinguistic documentation projects focusing on the Burarra language and multilingualism in Maningrida. Details of individual participants are provided in each case. Speakers were consulted where possible after the recordings to gain a clearer understanding of the intended meanings of their interactional moves. In these examples, the codes are differentiated using underlining and italics where needed, with the associated language name listed underneath or to the side. This is to aid the reader’s navigation of the examples but is not necessarily a claim about the speaker’s intended use or meaning. The first extract is from a re-enactment of the Stations of the Cross by a local church group as part of celebrations for Good Friday. Some fifty church members paraded across the community, performing the roles of Jesus and the crowd accompanying him to his crucifixion. Communication here was broadcast, rather than targeted towards individual interlocutors. The speaker, SR, is a senior man from the Djinang language group (eastern 1 Circular mobility between sites for cultural, economic, and social reasons has long been a part of life in remote northern Australia. Contemporary social lives and movements – the ‘hyper-mobility essential to modern living’ (Altman & Hinkson, 2007, p. 199), however, have engendered changing interactions with ancestral lands with many Indigenous Australians now circulating between large urban communities, regional hubs, and remote outstation communities. 4 Arnhem Land). He is a Djinang language and culture teacher at the local school, and a key member of the Burnawarra Elders Dispute Resolution Group. Yaw, lim-buŋi-ban Jesus, lim-buŋi-ban Jesus! Nguburr-bu barra nguburr-bu barra! yes 1PL-hit-TF 1PL-hit-TF 12A-hit FUT 12A-hit FUT DJINANG BURARRA ‘We’re hitting Jesus, we’re hitting Jesus! We’ll hit (him), we’ll hit (him)!’ (SR: 20150403-Good_Friday: 11:31-11:36) SR uses features from two recognised languages from different language families: Djinang and Burarra. Djinang is his ‘main’ language, his patrilect, but he also feels some ownership of Burarra as his grandmother’s language and he uses it very often in his daily interactions. During the re-enactment, SR’s speech shifts constantly between the two languages (and sometimes also draws on English and a third Indigenous language), typically in the way illustrated here with a few clauses in one language, then a few in the other. In discussions after the event he talked about how he wanted to incorporate both languages in his performance for two reasons: they were both important for him personally, being languages of his kin; and their use would maximise the number of people who would understand what he was saying (Interview, 30 July 2015, Maningrida, Australia). Other participants in the reenactment largely used their own ‘main’ Indigenous languages (seven named Indigenous languages were identified by participants in the interaction) and also drew on English features – as is typical of the church domain in Maningrida. This example demonstrates the notion core to translinguistics that meaning in performance transcends the individual languages that can be identified. While the same information is conveyed in each utterance here (i.e., that ‘we’, the crowd, are hitting/going to hit Jesus), the repetition is not redundant; instead it is ‘one coordinated and meaningful performance’ (Li Wei, 2011, p. 2) positioning SR, for example, as both Djinang and Burarra and as a recognised senior man and a leader in this context and beyond it. The following two examples are taken from more private interactions among family and friends seated outside homes. The speaker in Table 2, CB, is an elder from the Ndjébbana language group, the language of the land where Maningrida sits. Table 3 features PM, a Gunnartpa man and a former teaching assistant at his home, Gochan Jiny-jirra outstation southeast of Maningrida. And an-guna an-nga jay barra-ngúddjeya ‘babbúya’? I-what ATT 1A-say ironwood ENGLISH BURARRA NDJÉBBANA ‘And what’s that, hey, that they (Burarra people) say for “ironwood”’? I-PROX (CB: 20151029-ABLA_CB: 08:38-08:44) Guya fish DJAMBARRPUYNGU ‘She brought a fish.’ ana-ganyja. 3I.TO-take-RLS GUN-NARTPA (Fieldnotes 2017, M. Carew) In Table 2, CB is sitting with three other women: Burarra woman DJ, Na-kara woman RN, and an English speaker (the author). We had been discussing local child-rearing practices and 5 CB had been predominantly using her main language, Ndjébbana, and drawing on some English features. In this utterance, however, she also draws on Burarra resources, in part to address her question to Burarra-speaker DJ (and possibly also RN) towards whom she directs her gaze, and perhaps also in response to a topic shift. She finishes her question by drawing again on Ndjébbana resources, in part to make explicit the Ndjébbana word she wants to translate (babbúya ‘ironwood’). DJ takes the following turn and responds in Burarra (‘Jarlawurra? Ngardichala?’ (‘Leaves? Ironwood?’)). The use of Burarra features here was not strictly ‘necessary’, as DJ and RN would have understood had she asked in Ndjébbana, but CB draws on her ‘mobile resources’ (Blommaert, 2010, p. 49) to step out of her previous explanations, to engage with the group in a new way, and to draw DJ into a direct interaction. In Table 3, PM is sitting with family from two different language groups. In this exchange he speaks Gun-nartpa, but he uses the word for ‘fish’ from Djambarrpuyngu, a language of eastern Arnhem Land in deference to the language of his sister-in-law to whom he is culturally expected to perform respect. Both guya and ana-ganyja are in fact flexible, heteroglossic resources that can be interpreted as belonging to multiple recognised languages or dialects in the region. In this instance, the speaker is able to make locally situated meaning readily interpretable to those present, but these features can be used to construct meaning in other ways in other local contexts, giving rise to ‘multiple meanings and readings of forms’ (Bailey, 2007, p. 267). Table 4 is an extract from an extended, largely monologic, narrative spoken by CW, an Ilgar man from north-western Arnhem Land, and recorded by linguist Nicholas Evans in 1999 (Evans, 2010, pp. 284–86). This extract is highly performative, as in Table 1, but it represents a distinct genre of retelling traditional ancestor stories handed down orally through generations. Ilgar, Garig, Marrku, and Kunwinjku are all traditional languages of Western Arnhem Land, from two or three distinct language families (opinions vary on this point). Marrku, and especially Ilgar, were particularly important languages for CW’s social identity. Note that none of these are actually the language that CW used most of the time (Iwaidja). malayaka yimalkbany ILGAR/GARIG The Rainbow Serpent appeared ara raka, rak’ambij ILGAR/GARIG He went along there, that Rainbow Serpent well, Marrku, Marrku, people he said, not people, only one man ENGLISH Well, in Marrku, Marrku, people he said, not people, only one man one man he said ‘Iyi, muku ngurnu, ngurnu minyiwu ngurnu jang. MARRKU ‘Well, someone has struck a sacred place (jang) – a sacred place jang miyiwuwu MARRKU he struck the jang way over there muku makalany ngurnu marruyaj MARRKU that Rainbow appeared there imin kilim, he kill that ah, antbed or something, stone’ ENGLISH he hit it, he hit a termite mound or something, a stone’ […] binbum kundjak, birriyakminy rowk nawu bininj KUNWINJKU the dangerous thing had killed them (long ago), and they all died, those people 6 birriyakminy rowk they all perished yeah yildirrindirri raka yes, it’s really dangerous kayirrk rakabara yiwardudban so now they leave it alone yiwardudban yiyaldi they leave it be […] KUNWINJKU ILGAR/GARIG ILGAR/GARIG ILGAR/GARIG In this narrative, each language is drawn on strategically, and in a locally situated manner, to play a relatively distinct role: Ilgar/Garig is used for narrator statements and to voice one of the characters; Marrku is used for another character from the island which is that language’s homeland; English and Kunwinjku are used for clarification, translation, and framing (and possibly to some degree in deference to the linguist audience). In this extract, drawing on features from each code contributes something additional and specific, but taken together ‘as one’ these produce something that transcends the individual languages, creating a united and highly expressive performance. In this final example, we return to Maningrida, to a school assembly where a new book is being launched. RD, a Gun-nartpa speaker – a former teacher-linguist at the school – is addressing the gathered school children and community members, and she is describing her experience with the process of compiling the book. Yaw, good afternoon. It took many years before, for gun-anngiya. [MC] jina-bona 1999, collecting the stories. Gu-manga janguny, gu-gutuwurra gu-manga from elders, aburr-ngaypa tribe, Gun-nartpa people. Collecting jiny-ni stories, pictures mu-manga. Then big break jiny-ninya. Big break jiny-ninya because we lost our elder, and nipa arrburrwa michpa land owner. Mun-guna in this photo gipa ajinyjirra front – ‘Gun-ngaypa Rrawa’. And most of these book photos mu-werrangga aburr-yorrpuna, they’ve gone they’ve passed away from our families. ‘Yes, good afternoon. It took many years for this. [MC] came in 1999, collecting stories. She collected stories, gathered and collected them from elders, my tribe – Gun-nartpa people. She collected stories, and took pictures. Then she had a big break. She had a big break because we lost our elder, he was our land owner. That’s his photo on the front – ‘My Country’. And most of these book photos are of other people who passed away. They’re gone, they passed away from our families. (RD: 20150325-GN_launch: 01:29-03:16) RD is drawing features from her main language, Gun-nartpa – a dialect of Burarra – and from English. The kind of translanguaging evidenced here is quite different from the examples presented above: features from each named language are freely mixed within the clause level right through the text, unlike in Table 1 and (most of) Table 4, where each clause is in a single language, and unlike in Tables 2 and 3, where the introduction of features from another code defines a single moment within the larger text. While mixing practices in Maningrida are highly diverse and constantly emergent, this points to a major distinction observable in these practices. Mixing between Indigenous languages appears to be much more constrained, less widely attested and often has a readily identifiable motive. Mixing with English, however, is much less grammatically and socially restricted. In certain ‘hybrid’ spaces – 7 spaces shaped by the interaction of diverse groups, institutions, and ways of speaking – mixing between English and Burarra (the most widely spoken Indigenous language in Maningrida) has emerged as what Makoni & Pennycook (2012, p. 447) refer to as a ‘multilingua franca’, whereby mixed and varied language use is the default and communication draws on a ‘multilayered chain’ of features which is not fixed but adapts or ‘relocalises’ to situations as they arise (Vaughan, 2018). It seems likely that this distinction has to do with the regimenting power of ideologies about language, where Indigenous language use is socially ‘policed’ to a much greater extent, and in a more culturally embedded way, than the use of English is. Each example presented in this section reveals how individual communicators draw on their diverse linguistic repertoires to express their own distinct social and cultural positionalities, and to take advantage of the distinct affordances of different audiences, local domains, and communities of practice. These examples also point to a broader theme in the semiotics of cultural life in Arnhem Land: that of ‘difference’ as a cultural priority that is expected to be performed in certain contexts in various prescribed ways. This may mean recruiting features from across different recognised languages within an individual’s repertoire, but it can also shape the manipulation of variation within languages (e.g., Bininj Kunwok’s Kun-dangwok system of clanlectal variation (Garde, 2008)). This cultural priority is not unique to linguistic practice; in Brown (2016, p. 9), Mawng songman James Gulamuwu speaks of being ‘different together’ in discussing musical practice in Arnhem Land, whereby there is ‘conscious differentiation […] that occurs “together” in a shared ceremonial social space and within a unified musical framework’. I draw on this phrase but frame it as an ongoing process, and so we might consider this notion to be ‘doing difference together’. Discussion and conclusion: Between innovation and ordinariness Language practices in Arnhem Land have been demonstrated to be fundamentally characterised by diversity, flexibility, fluidity, and the depth and nuance of linguistic repertoires. These are all descriptors that have been eagerly attached to translingual practices in the globalised urban West and claimed as the exclusive and extraordinary product of recent migrations, media forms, and market pressures. Such practices are shown, then, to be in many ways perfectly ordinary and unremarkable, and certainly the stuff of everyday communication historically and in contemporary times at the ‘peripheries’ of globalisation’s reach. These findings align strongly with work on languaging at other global peripheries, in particular Dovchin’s work in Mongolia (e.g., 2017, 2018). Practices like these are made to seem ‘extraordinary’ or aberrant through the lens of dominant monolingual and ‘orderly’ multilingual ideologies espoused and produced, for example, by institutional regimes. But it is worth noting that certain translingual practices may also be viewed as non-standard within local ideologies produced by longstanding cultural systems. Ideological policing of this kind is readily observable in the Maningrida space in commentary about mixing practices that recruit English features – which are frequently negatively evaluated in the community – but also about the mixing of different Indigenous languages, behaviour that may be seen as transgressing the ‘patrilect’ priority or even as drunken behaviour. Indeed, there is a tension between ideologies that prescribe particular ways of ‘doing difference’ in Maningrida (e.g., using one’s patrilect or ‘appropriate’ clanlectal variants) and the reality of the everyday meaning-making practices that recruit these ‘mobile resources’ in ever emergent ways and in response to changing ecological affordances. 8 While the language practices described in this chapter are demonstrably shaped by longstanding cultural practices and priorities within the Arnhem Land regional system, this is not to say that there is nothing ‘new’ about them. At the community level, the language ecology has been crucially altered through the actions and goals of community institutions (e.g., the local school’s trilingual program), the increasing presence of media and electronic devices, the many facets of the broader colonial project, and the ever-encroaching reach of globalisation – these changes have led to the promotion of English and particular local languages such as Burarra (Vaughan, 2018). While Arnhem Land may be imagined and positioned as ‘peripheral’, individuals communicate within an increasingly globally connected community and continually wield new linguistic tools for meaning-making. In Arnhem Land, as in the globalised urban West, ‘difference’ is ordinary and expected. The challenge, then, is to adjust our critical gaze so difference and diversity are acknowledged as commonplace yet constituting a core focus – ‘the crucial datum’ (Evans & Levinson, 2009, p. 429) for the study of language practices. Acknowledgements Sincere thanks to Maningrida community and to the anonymous reviewers. This work was funded by the Endangered Languages Documentation Project (C.I. Jill Vaughan, grant IPF0256), the ARC Centre of Excellence for the Dynamics of Language (C.I. Felicity Meakins, University of Queensland, grant CE140100041), the Linguistic Complexity in the Individual and Society project (C.I. Terje Lohndal) at the Norwegian University for Science and Technology, and a University of Melbourne Early Career Researcher Grant (C.I. Jill Vaughan). References Altman, J., & Hinkson, M. (2007). Mobility and Modernity in Arnhem Land: The Social Universe of Kuninjku Trucks. Journal of Material Culture, 12(2), 181–203. Bailey, B. (2007). Heteroglossia and boundaries. In M. Heller (Ed.), Bilingualism: A social approach (pp. 257-274). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Blommaert, J. (2010). The sociolinguistics of globalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Blommaert, J. (2013). Ethnography, superdiversity and linguistic landscapes: Chronicles of complexity. Bristol: Multilingual Matters. Blunt, A. (2007). Cultural geographies of migration: mobility, transnationality and diaspora. Progress in human geography 31(5), 684-694. Boas, F. (1940). Race, Language, and Culture. New York: Macmillan. Bolander, B., & Sultana, S. (2019). Ordinary English amongst Muslim communities in South and Central Asia. International Journal of Multilingualism, 16(2), 162–174. Brown, R. (2016). Following footsteps: The kun-borrk/manyardi song tradition and its role in western Arnhem Land society. PhD thesis: University of Sydney. Canagarajah, S. (2013). Translingual practice: Global Englishes and cosmopolitan relations. London: Routledge. Canagarajah, S., & Dovchin, S. (2019). The everyday politics of translingualism as a resistant practice. International Journal of Multilingualism, 16(2), 127–144. Dovchin, S. (2017). The ordinariness of youth linguascapes in Mongolia. International Journal of Multilingualism, 14(2), 144–159. Dovchin, S. (2018). Language, media and globalization in the periphery: The linguascapes of popular music in Mongolia. New York, NY: Routledge. 9 Dovchin, S., & Lee, J. W. (2019). Introduction to special issue: ‘the ordinariness of translinguistics.’ International Journal of Multilingualism, 16(2), 105–111. Enfield, N. (2009). The Anatomy of Meaning: Speech, Gesture and Composite Utterances. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Epps, P. (Forthcoming). Amazonian linguistic diversity and its sociocultural correlates. In M. Crevels & P. Muysken (Eds.), Language Dispersal, Diversification, and Contact: A Global Perspective. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Evans, N. (2010). A tale of many tongues: polyglot narrative in North Australian oral traditions. In B. J. Baker, I. Mushin, M. Harvey, & R. Gardner (Eds.), Indigenous language and social identity: papers in honour of Michael Walsh (pp. 275–295). Canberra: Pacific Linguistics. Evans, N., & Levinson, S. C. (2009). The myth of language universals: Language diversity and its importance for cognitive science. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 32(05), 429. Fishman, J. A. (1967). Bilingualism with and without diglossia; diglossia with and without bilingualism. Journal of Social Issues 23(2), 29–38. Francois, A. (2012). The dynamics of linguistic diversity: Egalitarian multilingualism and power imbalance among northern Vanuatu languages. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 214, 85–110. Garde, M. (2008). Kun-dangwok: ‘clan lects’ and Ausbau in western Arnhem Land. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 191, 141–169. Green, R. (2003). Gurr-goni, a minority language in a multilingual community: surviving into the 21st century. In J. Blythe & R. McKenna Brown (Eds.), Maintaining the links: language, identity and the land (pp. 127–134). Bath: Foundation for Endangered Languages. Gumperz, J. J., & Wilson, R. (1971). Convergence and creolization: A case from the IndoAryan/Dravidian border in India. In D. Hymes (Ed.), Pidginization and Creolization of Languages (pp. 151–167). Cambridge: CUP. Heller, M. (2013). Repositioning the Multilingual Periphery. In S. Pietikainen & H. KellyHolmes (Eds.), Multilingualism and the Periphery (pp. 17–34). Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press. Lee, J. W., & Lou, J. J. (2019). The ordinary semiotic landscape of an unordinary place: spatiotemporal disjunctures in Incheon’s Chinatown. International Journal of Multilingualism, 16(2), 187–203. Li Wei. (2011). Moment analysis and translanguaging space: Discursive construction of identities by multilingual Chinese youth in Britain. Journal of Pragmatics, 43(5), 1222– 1235. Lüpke, F. (2017) African(ist) perspectives on vitality: fluidity, small speaker numbers and adaptive multilingualism make vibrant ecologies. Language 93(4): e275-e279. Otheguy, R., García, O., & Reid, W. (2015). Clarifying translanguaging and deconstructing named languages: A perspective from linguistics. Applied Linguistics Review 6(3): 281307. Makoni, B., & Makoni, S. (2009). Multilingual discourses on wheels and public English in Africa. In J. Maybin & J. Swann (Eds), The Routledge Companion to English Language Studies (pp. 258-270). Routledge: London; New York. Makoni, S., & Pennycook, A. (2012). Disinventing multilingualism: From monological multilingualism to multilingua francas. The Routledge Handbook of Multilingualism (pp. 439–472). London: Routledge. May, S. (2016). Linguistic Superdiversity as a ‘new’ theoretical framework: Panacea or nostrum? Presentation at MOSAIC, Birmingham University (3 February 2016). 10 Retrieved from http://www.birmingham.ac.uk/generic/tlang/documents/linguisticsuperdiversity-as-a-new-theoretical-framework.pdf McConvell, P., Marmion, D., & McNicol, S. (2005). National Indigenous Languages Survey Report. Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. Merlan, F. (1981). Land, language and social identity in Aboriginal Australia. Mankind, 13, 133–148. Pennycook, A. (2007). Global Englishes and transcultural flows. London: Routledge. Pennycook, A. (2016). Mobile times, mobile terms: The trans-super-poly-metro movement. In N. Coupland (Ed.), Sociolinguistics (pp. 201–216). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Pennycook, A., & Otsuji, E. (2019). Mundane metrolingualism. International Journal of Multilingualism, 16(2), 175–186. Pietikäinen, S., & Kelly-Holmes, H. (2013). Multilingualism and the Periphery. In S. Pietikäinen & H. Kelly-Holmes (eds), Multilingualism and the Periphery (pp. 1-16). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Piller, I. (2016). Linguistic diversity and social justice: An introduction to applied sociolinguistics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sassen, S. 1998. Globalization and its discontents. New York: The New Press. Silverstein, M. (2015). How language communities intersect: Is ‘superdiversity’ an incremental or transformative condition? Language & Communication 44: 7–18. Singer, R., & Harris, S. (2016). What practices and ideologies support small-scale multilingualism? A case study of Warruwi Community, northern Australia. International Journal of the Sociology of Language, 241, 163–208. Sultana, S., Dovchin, S., & Pennycook, A. (2015). Transglossic language practices of young adults in Bangladesh and Mongolia. International Journal of Multilingualism, 12(1), 93– 108. Vaughan, J. (2018). Translanguaging and Hybrid Spaces: Boundaries and Beyond in North Central Arnhem Land. In G. Mazzaferro (ed), Translanguaging as Everyday Practice (pp. 125-148). Cham, Switzerland: Springer. Vaughan, J., & Singer, R. (2018). Indigenous multilingualisms past and present. Language & Communication, 62, 83–90. 11