A Welsh Study in "We"
Andrea met us at a bench in the shade, avoiding the summer heat that hadn't hit us up north yet. We walk from the coffee shop in the student union in a large North Carolina university in 90 degree heat. Students bustle between classes in shorts and sandals, two girls trade interpretations of the biblical account of Saul's conversion to proto-Christianity, and Andrea warns us of our coming trial: a steep hill between us and her administrative office.
With a well-weathered, americanized welsh accent, Andrea traced the contours of her experience of almost 3 decades in America as a transplant.
“I grew up in Wales, a seaside town called Porthcawl 40 km west of the capital city Cardiff. The name means port of cawl which is a welsh soup. I’m Welsh, not English, I like to make that very clear. But I did a PhD in Britain and then jumped across Atlantic to do my post-doc in Houston. That’s where I met my husband. Thinking about it, I’m so happy I married a Texan, not an Englishman. I don’t think I or my parents could have stood an Englishman.
Now, when I think back to growing up, I compare it to what it is here in the US. So when I go home I notice all the little shops and bakeries. Really silly little things that, growing up, I thought everyone had. I used to meet the midwife who delivered me, I was born in my house, not a hospital. It’s just much smaller, and I think to some people it’d be claustrophobic but I felt it was nice. It feels like Houston and American cities are pretty anonymous. There are pockets of neighborhoods but I think the vast majority is pretty anonymous.
When I came to America I was struck by the excess of everything. When I first came here I went to the supermarket and there was an entire aisle of BREAD. You know, |WE| have a few. It was just everything, the food, the cars, everything is so much more here. I think people may value things more than how it was for me growing up.
When I touched down in the US the only thing I recognized was Toys-R-Us. We were driving on the freeway, which at the time I’m used to 2 lane roads but the freeways in Texas were, some of them, 6 lanes. So everything was different but I looked in the distance and saw Toys-R-Us and thought “Ah! |WE’VE| got one of those!” Even little things were different I remember, the next morning my advisor and I had breakfast and he asked, “do you want some OJ?” and I was stumped, like what the heck is OJ?
It was a huge culture shock but I felt at home very quickly which I don’t understand. I’d been in Houston a week and then went to New Orleans for a conference. Talk about baptism by fire, but we had a great time. And I came back and it felt like I was coming home and I’d only been there a week. I didn’t know anybody, but it still felt home a bit.
It’s funny I never got homesick in the first years in Texas but about three years in, I was at a conference in Toronto, and while I was in Toronto I started to get little pangs. I think it’s because Houston was so different from Europe that there’s nothing there to remind you of home. Toronto had just enough British in it to make me start feeling little bits missing home, there were more things that could trigger memories.”
One of the more interesting parts of our conversation was the places where Andrea chose who she identified with. Her "we"s throughout our talk seemed strangely inconsistent, but there was a larger pattern that seemed to subconsciously reinforce her story of accidental Americanization. Her verbal choice of who to identify with tracked a clear and interesting path: Welsh Home - New Friends - American Community
“Early on in my post-doc, I remember thinking, the Americans were so nice. And it was obviously superficial but it was there. Like they ask how you’re doing but they couldn’t give a toss. Still, it was much more than I was used to. The cohort of |US| international students in Houston when I was doing my post-doc would compare impressions of America. One of them was Brazilian, his name was Dean, and I would say to Dean, “Wow Americans are so, ‘huggy and everything.’” and he came back and said, “really, I think they’re so standoffish”. So it was funny to compare how the US felt coming from different parts of the world.”
Asking her about her community directly, surprisingly kept a wall up between her and the people she lived with. Most of her descriptions of the community centered her "we" on her household, for example about what her community does for work and how she feels in that milieu.
“In my community now, there are a good number of stay at home moms. There are lot of political signs, especially after the last election and I was surprised at home many were along with my political views, it was nice to see. There are still a good number who voted for Trump and I find that hard to stomach because it’s so antithetical to my values but the ones that did are rich, so I suppose it’s to be expected.
I personally value what people do over what status they have. It doesn’t matter if you have a corner office if you don’t use your effort or your money to do good things. |WE| had a neighbor who made a ton of money repackaging mortgages before the crisis and it makes it hard to see that person the same way. It’s tough because I don’t want to be judgmental but it’s hard to avoid it for me. ”
The first break in this to include Americans in the "we" came in our conversation about Republican friends, oddly enough.
“I had a neighbor before I moved recently that was a hardcore Republican family and we were very close. |WE| walked and barbecued together but we didn’t talk about politics. They were big church goers, and we weren’t but I’d yell out the window, “say a prayer for us Susie” and she’d yell back “you’re on my list.” |WE| just had to look at each other and say okay, that’s what they do, this is what we do. But they loved us, loved our kids, they were kind, and sweet, and not the superficial kindness, a deep kindness. We still talk and I still consider them close friends. ”
Soon after this though, America at large worked its way into Andrea's "we" as politics forced a reckoning with the world as it was around her.
“When |WE| had the Keith Scott shooting, it was a bit explosive. |WE’VE| had that undercurrent for a while but the shooting really brought it bubbling to the surface. I was really pleased with the student reaction. They came out, they marched, they protest, it was quite good. We have a significant minority population here at the university, so with the immigration bans, the uncertainty around H1B visas it’s impacting students in a big way to the point that they might not be able to come here and that’s heinous.
I’ll tell you the day I had been in America longer than I lived in Britain was a freaky day. I came here right after my 25th birthday, so when I had been here 25 years and a day, it was a strange moment, like “Wow! I guess I am American.” You’ll never take the Welsh out of me. I still have a British Passport, my kids have a British passport. One of the things I always felt was a little bit superior, I clung to the thought that the Brits were a little bit smarter than Americans. So the thing that struck me about Brexit was that |THEY’RE| just as stupid as |WE| are. It hit me hard, I couldn’t believe it. Then Trump got elected and so I was back to, “well the Brits are not that stupid.””
Still, as is to be expected, the transition of identity is not a complete switch. Having taken us on a journey through where "we" placed her, she threw a few curveballs, placing her back and forth between Britain and the US for parts of her perspective, especially in her foundational thoughts on a free society, and what freedom means at its core.
“Freedom is not where |WE| are right now. I personally can’t say I don’t feel free but different communities, minorities, gay communities, I think freedom should be for everyone. I think a truly free nation should value everyone and ensure freedom for everyone. I was asked an interesting question at a conference recently: what do you like about being white. And my answer was I liked that when my kids went out at night, I didn’t have to worry about them getting shot, or pulled over by the police. So that’s not a free society. For me, my privilege allows me to have all of those things but I know it’s not there for others. The freedom from fear, that’s what many communities don’t have in America.
I think in Britain there’s not as much of a fear culture. People still let their kids go out and play. The media feeds most of it and it becomes a feedback loop. |WE| still don’t have as many TV channels as you do in Britain. But that was one thing that was also shocking when I came over from Britain was the news. Back there |WE| have BBC news, and they tell you the news. Here they spend the hour telling you their opinion about the news and I felt like “I don’t give a shit about your opinion on the new, just tell me the news.”
The recent administration, the recent politics is enough to make you feel hopeless. Every policy coming out feels like it couldn’t get any worse until the next one comes out and is worse. Like they cut the budget for the National Institutes of Health. There’s no rhyme or reason to why you’d want to cut funding for medical research but they just see Obama raised that budget, so let’s cut it. It’s nonsense. I’ve never felt like this before, under Democrats or Republicans in the 28 years I’ve lived here. These days though |WE’RE| walking back basic rights, and cutting things that are bedrocks. It makes you wonder if we should really even be living here. My son has a partner and they walk around hand in hand and recently it makes me worry for them. ”
She threw one more in near the end, as she ventured to define Americans and ended up separating herself from them in the process of defining them.
“I think there are a portion of people that think unquestioningly that everything America does is the best, that |THEIR| healthcare is the best, that |THEIR| education is the best, that everything is the best. But there are plenty who also know that not to be true. It’s a nation of very different people with different values because it’s such a huge place. Every state is different so people’s definition is going to be very different. But if I had to answer that question without thinking too much I would say Americans think |THEY’RE| the best.”
The back and forth of identity pinned down a theme a bit that is difficult to notice in other interviews because of how subtle it can be. The concept of an American identity is a fluid one that can fade in and out for people depending on topic, situation, mood, and upbringing. In a country of different people with different values, as Andrea pointed out. Seeking a common set of American values may depend on situation more than anything else.
