A New England #3: Being "British"

An old geography teacher of mine once sarcastically asked me if I thought hearing about some far-flung country or other was a waste of my time. I answered as honestly as I could: "Sir, if they've got a football team, then they're worthwhile. If they haven't, then why are they even there?"

He wasn't really keen on this logic, as it threatened to make two things redundant; the first being him, the second being the country of which we were both theoretically citizens: the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Now, don't get me wrong. I consider myself a very patriotic person, especially where sport's concerned, and I fully believe in the celebration of English history and culture, and the observation of St George's Day. Furthermore, my love of England and all things English doesn't exclude people who don't conform to some half-arsed ideal of "Englishness" (i.e. people of different ethicities, religions, sexualities, etc.), nor does it necessitate attacking or belittling other national or cultural identities within these many-splendoured islands (Scots, Welsh, Irish, Manx, the more the merrier). Indeed, if another of the "home nations" are playing a side from overseas in a footy tournament, I'll happily cheer them on.

I just honestly don't understand the need to engineer an umbrella-identity to push all of us English, Scots, Welsh et al together. A lot of families in the world have siblings; they don't have to be joined at the hip to respect one another.

I often try explaining this to people from overseas (I won't lie: it's usually Americans) who've made the cardinal mistake of calling me "British", or better yet, wheeled out the old chestnut of using "Britain" and "England" as synonyms. I try and explain the potted history of my country to them - us Anglo-Saxons showed up and turfed the Celts out to the rainiest, hilliest bits; the Norsemen came and tried to do the same to us, until we realised it was all getting a bit silly; then the Normans popped over and decided to take the whole country off the lot of us, and generously let us be their foot-stools for the rest of history.

I try and explain that it was those Normans - or at least their descendents, however many years down the line - who thought it would be a fantastic idea to bring all of the islands hereabouts under their control, and eventually, to branch out into other parts of the world in search of wealth for themselves. I try and explain to those who claim that my ancestors were somehow responsible for the worst acts of what became the British Empire, that my ancestors were actually down coal mines being worked into an early grave when all of these things happened, and therefore they're not exactly culpable for what the country's mad, inbred rulers were getting up to in their spare time. I try and explain that the word British is the word of said rulers, those who presided over us English, Scots, Welsh and Irish, kept us in poverty and ignorance, and used us as their attack-dogs when the need to conquer surfaced again. I try and explain that with all of this in mind, and with the utmost respect to all other inhabitants of Albion's fair shores, I'd rather be described as English.

They usually stare at me blankly for a few seconds, before saying something along the lines of: "Wow! You have a such a cool British accent!"