As my community modernized, we used Pennsylvania Dutch less and less. Now I’m trying to preserve it. There are linguistic tics and habits that give away formerly Amish people immediately. I remember, for example, when I trained myself into saying “seven” instead of “saven.” I still think of it sometimes when I say the word, how it used to sound on my tongue, slow and sloping instead of quick and peaked, the way hooche Leit or “non‑Amish people” always said it. This, and other quirks of pronunciation or vocabulary, are easy tells when accents have otherwise smoothed into plain old American.

The Libby community was founded in 1992 in Northwest Montana, its main language Pennsylvania Dutch. Though intended to be traditionally Amish, it became harder for members to refuse cars, radios, zippers, and bright colors. In 2004, the first major communal ruling allowed cars. Men slipped into jeans and buttoned shirts; women gradually added color and length to their dresses. English rose as a second language, and the community began hosting Bible studies with local churches.

I grew up with both languages and eventually attended Berkeley, where I applied for a grant to record an oral history project. I interviewed about 30 people in Pennsylvania Dutch, translating each exchange into English subtitles. The result is two dozen hours of native speakers telling stories, a treasure for my family and anyone interested in the language’s evolution.

The project preserves a culture that few Amish record, preventing loss as modern influences spread.