[lg policy] Why Wales is exporting people full of regret at never having learnt Welsh

Harold Schiffman haroldfs at gmail.com
Mon May 20 11:42:00 EDT 2019

Why Wales is exporting people full of regret at never having learnt Welsh20th
May 2019
London. Image by Julius Silver from Pixabay

*Jack Pulman-Slater*

Wales has exported an awful lot over the centuries: we’ve churned out of
coal, a lot of water has been extracted out of us and we do a good line in
pop singers, sports personalities and cheese.

Since living in London and working as a Welsh tutor, I’ve noticed another
one of Wales’ primary exports: the Linguistically Bereaved Welsh.

The Linguistically Bereaved Welsh are a group who left Wales in their early
twenties to study or work in England or further afield and who don’t speak

Their linguistic bereavement doesn’t come directly and necessarily from an
absence of the Welsh Language. We know that you don’t have to speak Welsh
to be Welsh.

Political analyst Dennis Balsom’s Three-Wales Model may now be approaching
35 years old, but it probably still holds a lot of water. The Three-Wales
Model identifies three parts of Wales that make up the whole:

   - Y Fro Gymraeg: Welsh-speaking, Welsh-identifying Wales (North
   Pembrokeshire, Ceredigion, Carmarthenshire, Gwynedd, Anglesey)
   - Welsh Wales: Non-Welsh-speaking, Welsh-identifying (Swansea, Gower and
   the Valleys)
   - British Wales: Non-Welsh-speaking, British-identifying Wales (South
   Pembrokeshire, Cardiff, Newport and the rest of the country)

Since this model was drawn up, Cardiff has become almost a microcosm of the
rest of the country, as capital cities tend to do. But it still mostly
holds water.

The point is that we’re quite flexible when it comes to the language and
our identity. For some of us, being Welsh is inextricably linked with
speaking the language, for others not speaking Welsh is as much a part of
their Welsh identity as screaming at the television during the Six Nations.

But the Linguistically Bereaved Welsh in London feel very strongly that
they have missed out on something. They may have missed out because they
were from “British Wales” and never heard the language, or because they
grew up in the pre-devolution days when Welsh wasn’t a compulsory school
subject, or because they had Welsh-speaking parents who decided that
English would be the language of the home.

When they were in Wales, it seems like the language must have mattered less
to the identities of the Linguistically Bereaved Welsh. They were in Wales
and they were Welsh. No problem.

But when these people (now adult learners of the Welsh language) landed in
London, it appears they started feeling the absence of something they
previously didn’t have.


How can you be Welsh in London?

I don’t know the answer to this question, some people manage by reading
Nation.Cymru alone. Whilst lots of people seem to get their Cymric fix from
watching rugby at the London Welsh Centre or occasionally travelling west
for bank holiday weekends.

That’s completely fine. Whatever Welsh water floats your boat. But these
things aren’t enough for the Linguistically Bereaved Welsh who find their
way to my classroom in Covent Garden.

The Welsh people I teach often frame their not being able to speak Welsh
using the language of regret: “I wish Mum and Dad had spoken Welsh to me,”
“I wish I’d had a decent Welsh teacher at school”.

Exporting people full of regret isn’t good PR for Wales. Ours is a small
country inside another (seemingly increasingly) small country.

What’s to be done then? Hackles often rise when we talk about language
policy in Wales and we often pick a side. Cwmcarn doesn’t need a
Welsh-medium school and the language only makes kids “educationally weaker”

Alternatively, not enough is being done: we need a million speakers by 2050
and as many Welsh language GCSE revision guides as we can get our hands on!

What the policy directive needed to stem the sorrowful tide of the
Linguistically Bereaved Welsh is, I don’t know.

But if Wales is to export more than a few bottles of Penderyn and a small
army of sad blokes and glum women in London bars staring dejectedly into
their pints whilst explaining to their English colleagues after work.
“Yeah, I’m Welsh, but I can’t speak the language, mind,” then something has
to change.

What’s needed isn’t another policy change, but a behavioural or attitudinal

The Three-Wales Model shows how, irrespective of decisions and discussions
bubbling away in Cardiff Bay and Cathays Park, it’s unlikely Welsh people
will ever have a uniform experience of Welsh.

There are too many social, political, cultural, geographic and economic
differences. What we can change is our attitude to this brute fact.

When you next spot a member of the Linguistically Bereaved Welsh
apologising, excusing or contextualising their lack of Welsh language
abilities, don’t console them. Congratulate them on their newly started
mission to learn the language.

Recommend a tutor or a nearby evening class. Do anything but accept their
dejected state. So they don’t speak Welsh (yet)? So what! It doesn’t make
them any less Welsh than the next person. Remind them of that.

In the meantime, I’ll happily keep teaching those who feel they’ve “missed


 Harold F. Schiffman

Professor Emeritus of
 Dravidian Linguistics and Culture
Dept. of South Asia Studies
University of Pennsylvania
Philadelphia, PA 19104-6305

Phone:  (215) 898-7475
Fax:  (215) 573-2138

Email:  haroldfs at gmail.com

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://listserv.linguistlist.org/pipermail/lgpolicy-list/attachments/20190520/9a86b62b/attachment.html>
-------------- next part --------------
This message came to you by way of the lgpolicy-list mailing list
lgpolicy-list at groups.sas.upenn.edu
To manage your subscription unsubscribe, or arrange digest format: https://groups.sas.upenn.edu/mailman/listinfo/lgpolicy-list

More information about the Lgpolicy-list mailing list