Gestalt Linguistics vs Structuralist Linguistics

I've always been interested in the umwelt concept ever since I came across it in my readings on semiotics and linguistics. "Umwelt" was first mentioned and defined in the works of Jakob von Uexküll and Thomas Sebeok. It may be summarized in this statement:

[The notions of umwelt are based on the] "biological [and psychological - mine] foundations that lie at the very center of the study of both communication and signification in the human [and non-human] animal" (Sebeok, Thomas A. (1976). "Foreword". Contributions to the Doctrine of Signs. Lisse, Netherlands: Peter de Ridder Press. p. x. ISBN 0-87750-194-7)

Gestalt psychology, itself, was a counter to the, at the times, prevalent British empiricism, which gave birth, ultimately, to structuralism that believed in these three fundamental philosophical pillars:

1. "atomism," also known as "elementalism," the view that all knowledge, even complex abstract ideas, is built from simple, elementary constituents
2. "sensationalism," the view that the simplest constituents—the atoms of thought—are elementary sense impressions
3. "associationism," the view that more complex ideas arise from the association of simpler ideas. (Gestalt psychology - Wikipedia)

Unwittingly or not, these three axioms of the structuralist program have had (in my view) a huge negative, impact on the teaching of Inuit language in Nunavut (and, perhaps on all aboriginal communities of Canada and beyond) - at least in a flawed and indiscriminate application of analytical version of de Saussure's structuralism.

I've had a long career as a commentator on Inuit language and education and as an on-and-off Inuit language instructor. I've tried to remain as faithful as I can to the Nunavut Arctic College Inuit Language Programs and yet be able to express my views on (an alternative) predicate plus obligatory arguments grammar as quietly and non-disruptively as I could manage.

The current Inuit language instruction for college students in Nunavut, unfortunately, does not make any distinction between predicate verb phrases, subordinate, relative, and complement clauses, and subject and object noun phrases. A theory-free morphological treatment of verb phrases (VP) and noun phrases (NP) that are possible in the Inuit language rules the day rather than being regarded as a major pitfall to understanding and linguistic competence that it really is. 

Person, number and verbal moods that are built into the subject and object pronominal NPs are coached in terms of "1st person singular"; 2nd person dual"; and "3rd person plural" naive patterning principles (ie, not as "I am..."; "you are..."; and "she/he/it is...") and this really screws up and confuses the discernment and understanding of grammatical and ungrammatical constructs that the student has naturally acquired at home and community. Most students pass the current  "linguistics" courses offered in Nunavut simply because they are severely watered down and do not require any deep thinking and understanding (ie, the terminology can be rote memorized even if they do not make sense to the students and the exam tasks are always closed questions).

In my current position, I am involved in curriculum and educational resources development projects. This has provided me the opportunities to participate in intellectually satisfying discussions amongst knowledgeable education experts, and this allows me to pursue further research and advocate for alternative approaches to Inuit language pedagogy.

I've decided to call these alternative approaches to language instruction "gestalt linguistics" with a view of using minimal university-level linguistics terminology and a heavier emphasis on text-based language arts approach where analysis forms only a half of a re-synthesis programming based on well-formedness of Inuktitut grammar. My philosophy of language is based on the gestalt insights founded on the subsequent axioms of the premise: "the whole is more than the sum of its parts".

Gestalt linguistics tries to incorporate the best of both gestalt and structuralist psychologies and insights rather than coaching them in terms of warring factions or worldviews.

I will sign off with this quote from van Gogh in order to leave no nagging doubt of the Gestalt approach:

There are laws of proportion, of light and shadow, of perspective, which one must know in order to be able to draw well; without that knowledge it remains a fruitless struggle, and one never creates anything.

(van Gogh's personal correspondence to his brother, Theo)

"those who can't hold their whiskey"

 Unfortunately, I'm one of those. 

When I've been fortunate enough to be in serious relationships, I've been able to stop drinking (with a couple of relapses here and there, mind) sometimes for years on end. But when I moved to Rankin Inlet I became a binge drinker, downing 40 oz. bottles in one sitting over a couple of days. I'd pass out and immediately resume my drinking when I woke up. 

Bootleg alcohol is so readily available in that small Nunavut's second city and I became physically and psychologically reliant on that. I made life-long friends and loved my co-workers and students there but I was suffering existentially: even in purgatory, caring for others holds profound currency. That was my saving grace.

In my first year and few months living there, I was abstaining completely from alcohol and weed. I'd go to work in the morning, go to the store to get my daily meals after work, and then go home. That was to extent of my life. It was very lonely. For someone like me who is incapable of spontaneously seeking out company, the loneliness became a real killer of my sobriety.

I had to run away after a few years. I couldn't afford to go on holidays outside of the community and really was there the whole time. I didn't complete my contract so I had to leave everything behind. My books, my research, my prized possessions, everything, including my daughter's water colour she called "butterflies and flower garden" which she gave to me and I valued and kept. I think my stuff might still there, if it hasn't been raided over the years already and is now long gone.

When I got back to Iqaluit I was fortunate enough to be allowed to continue teaching. People at the Arctic College still believed in me. I taught the winter semester and the final stretch of the school year. I love teaching and am good at it. 

After that, I was hired as an Inuit language specialist by my current employer and I moved to Toronto and placed here strategically to do the work I was hired to do. I love my job and am allowed freedom to try my hand at things that I might find interesting and might be good at. I'm involved in team projects as diverse as developing Inuit language teaching resources, writing children's books, in production of children's television shows, doing research and writing commentary on IQ (Inuit knowledge), and I have continued teaching, but now, I'm also developing the Inuit language courses I teach.

After moving to my current position I still drank heavily, especially during the pandemic. Hey, I've had and continue to deal with my shit as best I'm able to and can do. But I've slowly come to realize that I need to do my "moral inventory" truthfully almost on a daily basis if I'm to transcend that horrible shit (some of my own making and some from my childhood). I know that my only path is to try and forgive the unforgivable (ie, myself and others).

I've vacillated wildly between two extremes: drinking to the point of oversaturation and abstaining completely - at least for a couple of months. But during what I put myself through I've had a profound epiphany of sorts: I realized that I'm a perfect example of the warnings and admonitions of IQ and ancient Greek philosophy regarding living a loose, mindlessly-lived life.

I've always been interested in the ethics of the ancient Greeks and enlightenment philosophies and, in my work on IQ research, I've met and worked with people who actually walk the talk, I mean, besides my parents and grandparents (well, I have my mom's temper). I was surrounded by love before I had to go to school. But the consonant theme has always been the principles of moderation and seeking balance. -Inuit philosophy is very much akin to Daoist philosophy in that respect.

I decided that I want to try something else regarding my struggles with alcohol and mindlessly allowing people of questionable character (including myself) to live rent-free in my almost constant monkey mind. 

I've sworn off my beloved Irish and Canadian whiskeys and my as hitherto unchallenged, very strong desire to achieve oblivion at any cost. Believe me, my unexamined life style has costed me a lot. I'm now starting to set limits, boundaries, and making deliberate plans to living my days reasonably: no more resumption of drinking even when I wake up from a fitful sleep; drinking only beer but only after putting in a good day's work and honouring my commitments. 

Over the last three weeks or so, I've not gotten drunk at all (and most times, I've been able to stop drinking even without getting a beer buzz) because I'm now mindfully pacing my consumption. A tallboy can of beer (a pint) now normally lasts me a couple of hours to drink. The whole point is not to get drunk but rather try and keep my physical cravings for alcohol at bay.

I feel empowered for the first time because I'm not being forced by circumstance and/or people to control my drinking. We all have an inborn need for self -actualization and -determination. Even despite myself, I've always been able to cultivate and celebrate my talents largely without the need to boast about them (always been interested to see how far I can take them), but the notions, and realization, of self determination is something almost completely a novel thing for me.

I may stumble and fall sometimes (and I've had a couple of episodes of trying days and mood swings already since making my decision), but that doesn't mean I ought to viscerally and immediately react to them and destroy my resolve to stick to my program in the process.

I feel hopeful.