It wasn’t until I went to university that I became aware people saw me as a Northerner.
I was in my first ever lecture when a boy, sounding almost relieved, turned to me and said: ‘Did you just say butty?’
His housemates had apparently taken the mick out of him for saying it during freshers, and he was grateful to have found someone who didn’t call it a bap/bun/sarnie etc.
This interaction forced me to realise that any way of speaking, other than the Queen’s English and received pronunciation (RP), was seen as something ‘other’.
Being Northern at a Northern university, you wouldn’t expect to run into too much prejudice, but it was surprising how often I came across the view that my accent equals working class, less cultured, uneducated (I could go on). One manager at work consistently told me my accent was ‘awful’ and flatmates were more than keen to ‘correct’ it.
There is a significant relationship between language and identity, and what other people think of you.
A survey of 1,041 participants found that, just as it did 50 years ago, received pronunciation and the Queen’s English are among the accents that attract higher prestige.
It’s something that is backed up by research, which has found certain accents – including those from Northern regions – can impact things like job and housing prospects, as well as the quality of education you receive.
Growing up in St Helens, Merseyside, I was aware of my accent (namely that it isn’t Scouse), but I wasn’t aware of how much significance it held in regard to my identity.
At university, as my ‘wheres’ and ‘stairs’ were continuously corrected by my RP-speaking peers, I began to establish myself as unapologetically Northern – definitely not one of those ‘weird Southerners’. I even began to outwardly and blindly support Northern athletes (think the Tony Bellew Vs David Haye match in 2016).
The North-South divide is a strange – and very real – concept, with a much-contested geographical line forming the basis of a national rivalry.
Being a Northerner holds a sense of pride. Although we’re less privileged than the oh-so-powerful South, we’re doing alright.
We can look to the past for where these feelings come from. For some, it was in the period between the first and second world wars that the idea of a depressed and stunted North vs the prosperous South was perpetuated.
The longevity of this divide can be attributed to recent history, too. With the decline of the booming coal mining industry, there were strikes, marches and mass unemployment in the North, while steel, engineering and chemical industries in the South continued to prosper. Thus the perception of a depressed North remained.
I believe that’s why this label leads to a feeling of solidarity while simultaneously cementing the Us vs Them mentality.
It’s a feeling that only gets stronger during times of national crisis or when figures come out showing the difference between how the North and South are treated. During the Yorkshire floods when PM Boris Johnson failed to respond quickly, showing an expected but still disappointing amount of ambivalence towards the region, it felt once again like the North was insignificant to not only Johnson, but to the nation as a whole.
In the North, more men are likely to die from drugs or alcohol than down South, a statistic that can’t be explained by coincidence alone. If the North was higher on the political agenda, maybe issues like this – which have increased since the 1990s – would be less of a problem.
But while we often discuss the negative stereotypes surrounding Northerners, there are positive traits that come with the label, too.
The idea that Northerners are funnier, friendlier and more authentic than their Southern counterparts is a decent stereotype to have – but it is still a stereotype, nonetheless.
One linguist, Kate Fox, coined the term ‘Northernness Effect’ that attributes the fame and success of certain northern comedians, like Bernard Manning, to their ability to play up to the Northern stereotype. Because we’re seen as funnier and more real, Northernness has become somewhat of a novelty.
Yet the positive stereotypes of the North only excuses the negative prejudices that live alongside them.
No matter whether good or bad, all stereotypes serve to do is brand the North as something different to the South.
It becomes a place where the people are friendlier, the beer is cheaper and the rain falls harder… where the IQs are lower and the wallets thinner but, you’ll definitely get a good laugh out of spending a night in a Northern pub with a Northern man reminiscing about the ghosts of mining’s past.
It is this, years of analysis and lived experience, that has meant my relationship with the Northern label has moved from one of pride to ambivalence.
The idea that an incidental place of birth should serve any significance in terms of my identity and experience is ridiculous.
I love the North and I am proud of my background. It is, and always will be, my home.
But that doesn’t make me any funnier or friendlier than it does poor and unintelligent.
It doesn’t make me any more or less likely to be of a certain political persuasion or economic status and it doesn’t make me uncultured.
Where you’re from is not a personality trait.
Labels
Labels is an exclusive series that hears from individuals who have been labelled – whether that be by society, a job title, or a diagnosis. Throughout the project, writers will share how having these words ascribed to them shaped their identity — positively or negatively — and what the label means to them.
If you would like to get involved please email jess.austin@metro.co.uk
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source https://metro.co.uk/2020/01/16/my-label-and-me-northern-accent-11910886/
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