“If we are to be
treated differently, then why not demonstrate that we are different.”
This idea is
underpins much of this memoir by Daniels. Having grown up in Llanelli
he has spent the vast majority of his adult life in England, and
particularly in London and the Home Counties. In a move not uncommon
for the “exile” the articulation of being “welsh” only became
important to Daniels once he was no longer in Wales, once it became a
point of differential.
Although growing up
in an area with a strong presence of the Welsh language Daniels was a
English speaking monoglot – and the place of the language within
the national identity is something he explores – it is a complex
and at times difficult relationship. In later life he is learning
Welsh – not to make him a truer Welshman but to participate in
other parts of the cultural tapestry of being Welsh.
Rugby places a
massive part of Daniels' sense of being Welsh – centred on regular
attendance at the London Welsh – I wonder what his reflection would
be on the London Welsh's recent relocation out of the capital to meet
the requirements for grounds in high league competition (that high
level of play has not been sustained and so the Welsh are back at
their traditional home of Old Deer Park). But you perhaps wanted him
to explore, as with the language, what it might be to be Welsh and
not love rugby – perhaps it was a question beyond the pale?
Coming back to the
initial quote, I found a personal resonance to this. I have often
had to explain, justify even, my claim to be Welsh. Having 3 English
Grandparents, not a word of Welsh, and until recently never having
lived west of Windsor, it could often take a fair bit of explaining!
But having been given a Welsh name, having been mark out as
different, it has always seemed the natural response to embrace that
difference rather than try to deny it. (My parents provided me with
an English middle name to allow me the choice of an alternative
cultural identity – but I have never been able to imagine myself as
Robert Stone).
That there is “a
search” is part of a clue that all identity is at some level a myth
– recalling Benedict Anderson's Imagine Communities – where we
draw the lines is a process of construction. Acknowledging this is
not to deny the power of the identities, or even their reality, but
it opens the door to a certain degree of fluidity around who is
entitled to claim the identity, and also to what the essential
characteristics of the identity are. It gives room for healthy
evolutions.
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