#8 - Why Welsh should be part of your comms strategy
Genuine inclusion means engaging at the margins. And that means speaking Cymraeg.
This summer I spent a month ‘flexication’ in Wales. I have family in Swansea, and friends up in Eryri, so was lucky to enjoy a blissful time exploring — driving up and down the narrow A-roads that cross the country, rarely seeing another car. My parents and brother’s family moved there during lockdown, drawn by my Dad’s Welsh roots and the sheer beauty of the place.
Two-years in, I can tell you a lot of things about Wales I didn’t know before. I can tell you cwtch means cosy/hug, that club rugby really is the heart of the community, and that bara brith is about the nicest fruit loaf going. I can tell you that a Noson Lawen is a traditional night where people come together to sing folk songs, that there’s a terrifying story about a half beaver, half pig call the Afanc that apparently lives in the lakes, and that the Welsh tourist board seem deeply uninterested in the fact that the Gower beaches are home to some of the most ancient human burial grounds in Europe – dated at 32000 years old.
And I can tell you a little about how the Welsh view the English. Which is that they think we’re pretty money-oriented and don’t seem to prioritise extended family to a level that’s normal. They think it’s weird we don’t live near our grandparents / aunties / cousins, because family is everyone’s safety net. And they think it’s a bit weird, honestly, that we don’t know that the reason that only 19% of the population still speak Welsh — is because of us.
The history of Welsh as a language is a devastating one. In early, possibly even pre-Roman times, ancient Welsh was a rich and wild language, capturing some of the earliest stories of the British isles in the poetry and story of the Mabinogion, which told of giants and enchantresses, war and magic. But through the centuries Welsh was gradually eroded by English law. Up until the 1700s most of Wales was Welsh-speaking, but by the 1900s, most of it wasn’t. And a big reason for that was because in the 1800s, it was UK education policy that children in Welsh schools would only be taught in English, and that speaking Welsh was punished.
Which for hundreds of thousands of families, meant the end of the Welsh language.
The “Welsh Not” was used in some schools to punish kids who were heard speaking Welsh
There have been a lot of other factors that have eroded Welsh over the years, not least the sheer ubiquity of English pop culture. For a while in the 2000s, it looked like Welsh was rallying as more schools began teaching it again. But progress seems to have stalled, thanks in part to an uninterested Tory party and waves of second home ownership from English middle classes befuddled by the ll’s and ff’s.
And it’s made me reflect on my own family, who are more Welsh than anything else, and yet not one of us speaks the language. And when I hear Welsh spoken, and sung, I can’t help feel like we’ve missed out on something.
We’re learning now. My niece will go to a Welsh school. My brother is learning Welsh choir songs. I’ve been working on a book project, diving into the old storytelling manuscripts, working with traditional Welsh storytellers to try and translate their words. It’s a drop in the ocean. And yet the Welsh language is deeply linked to the roots of this land, and without it I’m not sure we can fully connect to these mountains, islands, rivers and seas we call home.
I’m sharing this, in part, because in my London marketing life we talk about inclusion a lot. We talk about representation and insight, and how to create content with the right partners so that it authentically reflects the audiences we’re engaging with.
But I also wonder if, as an industry, tightly wrapped in our London bubble, we do enough to consider what inclusion means for those who do not speak English as a first language.
There are 560k first-language Welsh speakers in the UK. 1.5 millions Scots speakers, 90k Angloromani speakers, 87k Scottish Gaelic speakers, 16k Shelta speakers, 6k Irish speakers and just 600 Cornish speakers. Not to mention over half a million Polish speakers, 270k Punjabi speakers, and over 200k speakers of Urdu, Bengali and Gujarati respectively. 150k Arabic speakers, 140k Chinese speakers.
In many ways, we’re a nation full of language, which means we’re a nation full of meaning, and soul, and stories that go way beyond our usual A-B-C. I wonder how, as marketeers, we can reflect that diversity more.
And if we can at least attempt a ‘nos da’ or ‘diolch’, audiences around Eryri (which was once known as Snowdonia) will love us for it.
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What else is coming up…
🧙♀️ On the 22 December I’ll be sharing folk tales with an incredible line-up of Welsh storytellers for Tales Of The Longest Night, join us on Zoom here
🕊️ The amazing Robi Damelin is in town speaking at the unity vigil outside Downing Street on Sunday 3rd. I was honoured to work with her on an IWD film festival a few years ago, and her movie One Day After Peace remains on of the world’s the most powerful docs exploring peace in the Middle East
🎄 The absolute carnage that is Yule Rock is back for it’s 10th year, for a night of raucous pop xmas singalong. 150 tix already sold, get yours now and join us at Conway Hall here
Where We Grow is an embodied strategy consultancy and mindfulness practice working at the crossroad of myth, nature, storytelling and social change. For more, visit: www.wherewegrow.co.uk