The case of the mistaken identity
By Heather Irish, Staff Writer
January 30, 2007 | 12:46 a.m.
The interns and I went to Edinburgh (pronounced Edinburra), Scotland, during the weekend. It's a gorgeous place and is personally my favorite city. We arrived the day after Burns night on Thursday, Jan. 25.
The Scottish celebrate a poet, Robbie Burns, who depicted and understood their rural life. The night starts off with dinner and toasting to several poems and then ends after many drinks.
Even though we didn't arrive until after the festival, we did see the aftermath. One boy was dressed as Peter Pan as his friends chased him down the Royal Mile (the street leading to the castle). The next day, we saw chalk graffiti on the ancient cathedral that read "Scottish not British." This reflects the huge national pride the Scottish have for their country (think William Wallace and “Braveheart”). The national identity in the UK is somewhat uncertain and, depending on whom you ask, it seems everyone has a different perspective.
The UK consists of 3 countries: England, Northern Ireland and Scotland, and one principality, Wales. I won't bore you further, but geography is key when talking to the Brits.
First of all, the American term "Brit" is offensive to many people in the UK. The Welsh and the Scottish, in particular, like to be called Welsh and Scottish. The English and the Northern Irish are a little different because it tends to vary depending on if the people consider themselves part of the United Kingdom or just English. But here's the tricky part -- a person can consider himself or herself English, but live in Wales, Northern Ireland or Scotland. For instance, I met an older man on the train from London to Wales who lived and worked in Wales and whose mother lives in Wales, but claimed he was English.
The first weekend here, I went out with the other interns from OU to this pub called Salt. It's right on the bay in Cardiff. I met this guy and after a couple of hours and a few drinks we got on the subject of national identity. He grew up in Wales, but had an English father. I thought it was interesting that he was part English. While being very polite, he told me he wasn't English at all, but Welsh. He said it didn't count that his father was English because he grew up in Wales. I told him I was Irish-American, which I'm very proud of, and I will be celebrating St. Patty's properly in Dublin this year. But he told me it didn't matter where my ancestors came from because I lived in America and had an American accent.
I met a couple of Irish guys the next weekend out and brought up national identity again. They were confused when I told them I was Irish-American. They thought that meant I was born in Ireland. I guess the hyphenated ancestry doesn't matter here.
It's amazing to think that a tiny island the size of Oregon can have people with such diverse views on their national identity. As for me, I'm not confused in the least about who I am. I'm American with Irish ancestry. And that won't stop me from paying tribute to my Irish heritage and downing several Guinnesses on March 17th.