Tuesday 16 April 2013

Identity Crisis

I was asked tuther day “Where are you actually from Stacy?” That’s not been an uncommon question for me over the last 8 months. Having an English accent in Canada begs the question. My responses typically vary and while trying not to be condescending I often just simply respond with “England”. Lots of people then tut and say “Well duh, I knew that”. I have to start big as I have actually been called Australian since being over here, much to my confusion. I then start to whittle down the English geography and respond from North West of England —> Lancashire —> Halfway between Liverpool and Manchester —> Skelmersdale (which I rarely reach). I assume that nobody knows where anywhere in England, or the United Kingdom actually is. And why should they, I am only just getting to grips with Canadian geography, and I’m still only at the provincial scale.

Alternatively I have had people say “Oh, I thought you were from Scotland because that’s all you talk about”. My time spent there and my love for all things north of the border clearly hasn’t gone unnoticed. This got me thinking about where I actually associate myself with. While for other people I know this is a legitimate crisis, spread out over the global scale, my relatively local allegiances are still varied and eclectic. The nostalgia that I get for the places I’m associated with are principally expressed as sporting teams that I cheer for, and my vernacular vocabulary. And I don’t mind having a diversity of ‘nationalities’. (It spreads out my chance for sporting success!). But I thought I would reflect on the places that have shaped who I have become. (That was unexpectedly soppy…)
To me Skelmersdale is the crossroads that merges several local cultures and diverse accents. Geographically we are situated in Lancashire, and are served by West Lancashire County Council. However we have a Wigan based Postcode. And we are mainly populated by former residents of Liverpool, as our wee Norse-named colliery town was expanded to to house the overflow of people from Merseyside. Anyone with an appreciation for these Northern nuances will understand my identity confusion.

Liverpool is my football team. Forever and always. I joke about allegiances to various teams, but this one is one of my die-hards. You’ll Never Walk Alone will always be a song and a motto that I adhere to, creating strong bonds with the millions of LFC fans globally and meaning I am a true friend to those I care about. Feeling part of the Liverpool community is particularly important every April 15th, with the anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster. JFT96 and YNWA are emblazoned across social media. It also transcends team rivalries. This event affected Liverpool as a city, and further afield. We may hate the Mancs and Evertonians but for this, we stand united. In summary, I’m a Scouser, just without the phlegmy accent.
Me and Champions League Trophy
Showing my Liverpool pride with the Champions League Trophy
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The city itself is one of my favourite places too. Where else would you get  Superlambananas?
Wigan has probably had more of an effect on my accent and culture, mainly due to proximity. It’s easier for me to get to Wigan than to Liverpool, and I went to college there. Wigan Warriors are my rugby team too, and being a season ticket holder for 4 years means that some of the most exciting and impassioned moments of my life so far have occurred wearing the cherry and white hoops, sitting in the South Stand of the JJB Stadium. I also love steak and ale pies, which is an entry requirement for calling yourself a Wiganer.
Me and Paull at JJB
Cherry and Whites on a stadium tour.
Chris Ashton Flip try
I've been waiting for an excuse to show this shot of Chris Ashton (now of England Rugby Union Fame) being the extravagant player that everyone now knows.
The Lancashire connection is mainly reserved for pissing off those from Yorkshire. I never really felt the Lancashire connection in Skelmersdale. It was only when I was selected to shoot for Lancashire at archery that that identity came in. It’s not the same as those from Lancashire-proper like Preston, Lancaster and Burnley, who also retain the accent, but we can all unite to antagonise those from across the Pennines whilst eating a Hotpot. Red rose til i die.
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The beautiful river plains of the Lancashire Lune Valley
Scotland is where it gets interesting. My mum’s family are from Fife, the wee peninsula that is host to the University of St Andrews where I did my undergraduate degree. Like my Gran was, I was very proud to be representing the family at the local prestigious university, although upset that the local connection not providing me with any scholarship money! Numerous family holidays to Scotland over the years meant that I was aware of my Scottish heritage and I had embraced it before I started studying there. I think the fact that I studied Geology in Scotland is an important part of my view of the country. Some of the best moments and most incredible views i have seen have been in the hills, valleys and coastlines of Scotland. Having a deeper understanding of these incredible landscapes has strengthened the bond, and while I wouldn’t be audacious enough to say to a proud Scotsman that I myself was Scottish, I am always quick to point out my many connections to the wonderful country.
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Ardnamurchan peninsula looking north towards the islands of
Canna, Rum and  Eigg (L-R)
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Beautiful autumnal views from Ben Nevis looking towards Fort William.
I was born in Cardiff, Wales, but was only there for 6 months before we moved up north. Again family holidays and trips around Wales have allowed me to learn about the fabulous country and its people. I find Cardiff itself a wonderful city, with a fabulous castle and a stadium that has provided me with some great victories. While I feel that I am not truly Welsh, I am a great admirer of those who are.
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At Llanfair PG, the village in Anglesey with the longest name in Europe and one of the longest in the world. One day I will learn how to pronounce it.

Being English is the undisputable identity that I possess, and of that I am proud. I have been lucky enough to travel to a number of towns and cities throughout the land thanks to my dad’s job as a courier. Years spent sitting in the van and staring out of the window experiencing different parts of the country has been a fabulous opportunity. That is in no way saying that I am done exploring the place. My UK Scratch Map will not scratch off itself! It was only when I went to St Andrew’s that I had the resource to visit the Lake District on a regular basis. Despite being the next county up from Lancashire I had never visited it before. There’s many places yet to go, and the next chance I have I will seize it.
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Derwent Water below Catbells in the Lake District.
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I fortuitously managed to explore the south east this summer, so i walked the White Cliffs of Dover!
The bucket term for all of this drivel, is that I am British. It is the best way to incorporate all the different loyalties I feel. The question in geology of “Are you a lumper or a splitter?” is pertinent here, and I would say that it is circumstantial. All I wish is that calling myself British is not a dilution of who I am, and calling myself a Wiganer is not a disservice to the other influences on my life. And who knows, maybe in a year and a half when I'm addicted to Tim Horton's and ice hockey I'll start trying to call myself Canadian as well!