Maya America: Journal of Essays, Commentary, and Analysis

Full issue of Maya America, volume 8, issue 1.

Includes Cover Art and Table of Contents

This introductory essay is part of the special issue Maya America, Volume 8, Issue 1, guest-edited and coordinated by the Mayan Languages Preservation Project. The 10 authors of the various research articles and commentaries represent eight of Guatemala’s 22 Maya languages. What brings these essays into relationship with each other are the pragmatic concerns of strengthening Maya languages, such as providing academic, professional, and social services contexts for using and not merely maintaining these languages but helping them thrive. Each author in this special issue has actively worked in various ways to promote Mayan language and cultural knowledge preservation. As background to the authors’ essays, Dr. Little in this introductory chapter reviews how, over the last 40 years, Guatemalan Maya scholars have increasingly been part of the academic conversation, although much of Maya scholarly production in ethno/history, cultural anthropology, and politics has been in Spanish and with limited circulation.

This study examined the geographic origins of Mam Maya who sought interpretation services at La Clínica de la Raza’s Fruitvale Village Pediatrics department in Oakland, California. Between February 22 and September 6, 2024. The results showed that 95% of interpretation encounters involved respondents from three municipalities – Todos Santos Cuchumátan, San Juan Atitán, and Santiago Chimaltenango – located within the Sierra de los Cuchumatanes region of western Guatemala. This concentrated pattern suggests that the Fruitvale Mam community is largely rooted in a specific set of municipalities whose linguistic variants and cultural practices have important implications for interpreter training and healthcare resources. Guatemalan municipalities share history, kinship, obligations, and everyday relationships. These identities persist in the United States, influencing where migrants settle, whom they settle with, and how they reproduce cultural and linguistic practices.

As Indigenous scholars and activists have pointed out, the commercialization of Indigenous language data resembles the historical and ongoing dispossession of Indigenous land. Using Mayan languages as a case study, this article illustrates the process by which digital advertising platforms – Google and Meta – appropriate and benefit commercially from Indigenous language data, drawing parallels with the dispossession of Indigenous land. It identifies the significant costs of this commercialization to Indigenous communities, including the lack of compensation for the Indigenous language data’s commercial value, the distortion of Indigenous communities’ linguistic and cultural representation online, and the reinforcement of extractive relationships to Indigenous land, particularly through the expansion of highly resource-intensive and environmentally destructive AI infrastructures. Finally, the paper outlines various efforts to reclaim Indigenous language data, calling for broad solidarity and support for the Indigenous Data Sovereignty movement.

Gabriela Merida, a doctoral student at the University of Albany and a child of Guatemalan Maya refugees, interviews her grandmother and father about their lives in Guatemala and their subsequent experiences as migrants in the United States. Through life history interviews with each of them, Merida examines how foreign intervention shaped the economic and political realities that compelled them to migrate. She employs Giovanni Batz’s (2024) concept of the four invasions as an analytic frame to demonstrate how the historical arc of colonization, the plantation economy, the Guatemalan Civil War, and capitalism produce compounding forms of structural and quotidian violence that disproportionately harm Indigenous Mayas, campesinos, and working-class people. The life histories of her grandmother and father demonstrate how the legacies of the four invasions are linked, creating the conditions that drive Indigenous Maya and peasants to migrate to the United States. “Yet,” concludes Merida, “just as my grandmother and father resisted through small, everyday acts of survival, I know that my responsibility now lies in resisting for my community.”

This article traces the project's founding, structure, and achievements over three years, documenting a community-led effort to create digital resources, including talking glossaries, keyboards, tools to help communities create textbooks for schools, and machine translation corpora for the 22 Mayan languages spoken in Guatemala. Drawing on principles of communitybased language documentation and recognized under UNESCO’s International Decade of Indigenous Languages (IDIL 2022–2032), the project confronts intersecting challenges of poverty, illiteracy, digital exclusion, and the ethical risks of data extraction by external actors. The author argues that meaningful language digitization should be guided by native speakers and community organizations, rather than external institutions, and that linguistic data carries cultural and ceremonial significance that requires rigorous consent and community collaboration. The project offers a replicable roadmap for Indigenous language communities worldwide seeking to enter digital spaces on their own terms.

I have many beautiful memories from my childhood visiting my grandma in the village of Patzicía, Guatemala. Usually, my cousins and I helped her feed her chickens and collect eggs. She also had turkeys, bunnies, and many other animals, including a parrot that my aunts and uncles bought for her so she wouldn’t feel alone during the day. After helping her, Grandma Rafaela usually invited us to enjoy a traditional Maya dinner: black beans, rice, homemade cheese, and handmade tortillas cooked on her comal over a traditional firewood stove, along with a warm drink she made from toasted corn powder. While we were eating dinner, she used to share stories.

¿Qué es ser maya? El sentimiento de ser maya se refleja en todo nuestro y entorno, como lo es nuestra cosmovisión, donde emerge mucha sabiduría y arte, que muestran nuestra identidad. Los pueblos originarios tenemos un tronco común en nuestras vivencias, y eso nos hace identificarnos con el mismo sentir. Solo expresamos nuestros pensamientos sobre todas las vicisitudes de los distintos escenarios de nuestra historia. Así pues, este ensayo sirve como un llamado a alzar nuestra voz colectiva, para hacer saber al mundo que perduramos —que existimos— a pesar de las indignidades que hemos sufrido en un mundo desigual.

Cada vez que una lengua indígena deja de hablarse, el mundo pierde una manera única de entender la vida, la naturaleza y la experiencia humana. Con ella desaparecen historias transmitidas durante generaciones, conocimientos construidos a través de siglos de observación y experiencia, formas particulares de relacionarse con la comunidad y visiones del mundo que no pueden reproducirse completamente en ningún otro idioma. Estas lenguas forman parte del patrimonio cultural de la humanidad porque conservan conocimientos sobre la agricultura, la medicina tradicional, la convivencia comunitaria y la relación respetuosa con la naturaleza. También guardan valores, memorias y formas de pensamiento que enriquecen nuestra comprensión de lo que significa ser humano en un mundo diverso y multicultural.