Last spring, I spent a few months in Brittany. I went to play boulioù (a local boule game) with the town’s elders when they started sharing their regret of no longer speaking their mother tongue: Breton. I found this testimony touching and absurd: to think that in just 50 years, the language that everyone spoke was forgotten by all.

I have always been interested in this ancient language. It was the mother tongue of my grandpar-ents, the one they used every day, the one my mom understood but never learned, the one I only heard a few times during meetings with elders. The one future generations probably will never hear.