It’s not OK to laugh at my Northern accent

[dropcap]C[/dropcap]oming from an area of the country which is roughly ninety percent White British, my family and I figured that coming to university, a hub of ethnic diversity, would be quite a cultural shock for me. That was not the case at all. I felt quite at home, and instantly made friends from Europe, Asia, Africa – you name it. It was in fact something else entirely that proved to throw me off kilter, and four years on, it still has an effect on me. It’s my Northern accent.

It’s well known that Warwick is a heavily southern-dominated university when it comes to the UK student demographics. A lot of Londoners for instance choose here or Exeter, or perhaps venture as far as Sheffield in order to experience what lies beyond the capital. And thus, I was quickly aware that I was the odd one out.

At first, it was kind of funny and I actually liked being the token Northerner in my social circle. I’d laugh along when people commented on my Hull accent, pronouncing “No” as “Nurr”, dropping my Hs, saying “owt” instead of “anything” and using phrases such as “I’m mafting” (I’m boiling) and “stop chowing at me” (stop having a go at me.) But then my Hull-ness started to have a slightly othering effect, and I realised that these seemingly innocuous jokes had a hint of derision.

Just because I say bath and grass differently, it doesn’t make me any less intelligent

I’m not trying to victimise myself, and I’m well aware that the odd Northern jibe in no way equates to racism, but, I still feel it’s something worth voicing. Just because I say bath and grass differently, it doesn’t make me any less intelligent, nor does it make me any funnier. Of course, given the international student population here, there are an infinite number of world accents. But usually – at least from what I’ve seen – it has never used as the butt of a joke. Why would anyone make fun of an Indian person speaking with an Indian accent? They’re Indian! But speaking with a Yorkshire, Lancashire or Geordie accent? Well, that’s vaudeville fodder.

I don’t think anyone means badly by it, and I continue to smile (if not somewhat wryly) when my friends mimic what I say and laugh. For all I know, fellow Northern students reading this may entirely disagree with me and think I should stop being such a bloody sour puss. But I state for the record nonetheless – my accent doesn’t and shouldn’t define me, and the same goes for anyone else.