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Peter N. Willliams
was brought up to be English. In Flint, the town
where Peter grew up, everyone spoke English. In school, he was taught
the English language.
He was taught English history and customs. He was taught to trust
and have pride in English institutions. In Peter's town, everyone
was "thoroughly English." Just one thing, though. Peter's town
was in Wales.
In
those days, prior to and during World War II, you couldn't be Welsh,
even if you really were. Peter says, "In my father's day, you were
not officially forbidden to speak your native tongue, but were often
times humiliated for doing so. They stood you in the corner and hung
a sign around your neck." You were supposed to be English in all things,
and above all, that meant in speech. That was OK with Peter, though,
because in his mind, there was "no question of cultural, social or
historical separation" between the English and the Welsh. He was
from the northeast of Wales, where English influence was strongest,
and
as far as he was concerned, he was English.
Peter's education at the University of Swansea, in southwest Wales,
where it was OK to be Welsh, brought him into contact with "Welshness" for
the first time. There, he heard about history from a slightly different
viewpoint. There, for the first time, he heard choral singing
in the pubs and the songs they sang were traditional church hymns.
In the aftermath of a Methodist revival in the middle of the nineteenth
century, instrumental music was deemed to be sinful and was forbidden,
as a result of some unfortunate Bible misinterpretations. The only
musical outlet, then, was singing. Peter didn't know much Welsh,
but
he joined in with the pub-choruses and learned a few Welsh hymns. After
taking a degree in history at Swansea, Peter assessed his opportunities
and decided to emmigrate from Wales. He got his visa and followed
his twin sister, who had married a GI, to the United States.
Shortly after arriving in the U.S., Peter found himself drafted into
the service of his new Uncle Sam, and spent two years in an artillery
unit in southern Germany, serving with many other immigrants, before
he could begin his new life, here (ed. note: we were surprised to
learn that it was possible for a foreign national to be drafted into
and forced to serve in our army. Apparently such a thing is provided
for in the acceptance terms of a US Visa, and was our government's
way of getting their share up front).
Thanks
to the artillery unit, Peter suffered the permanent loss of his hearing.
Thanks to the GI Bill, though, Peter got his Ph.d. in English
at the University of Delaware, and spent many satisfying years teaching
in Delaware public schools and colleges. Through the years, his extracurricular
activities have brought him into contact with the Welsh-American
communities which seem to exist, unnoticed
by most of us, in areas where miningand
agriculture are the chief industries. The Welsh immigrants to the eastern
parts of the country have been well integrated into the mainstream
of
America's coal, iron and steelindustries,
but have kept a degree of ethnic identity. This often shows up in their
support for visiting Welsh choirs and their community hymn-singing
festivals.
Some
years ago, Peter got involved, in the capacity of performer, with
a Welsh Society singing function. Until that time, he was not a part
of the regular "Welsh circuit", but has since branched out into choral
conducting (after an unknown woman "browbeat me into saying, yes" to
a request to conduct a Welsh choir) and exploring other forms of Welsh
music. His musical odyssey has caused him to investigate other aspects
of his Welsh cultural heritage and has led him, in recent years, to
return to Wales "to study the language full-time." He has written a
book about David Thomas, a Welsh worker in the American coal fields,
who introduced the use of anthracite into the process for the production
of iron, and has completed a new book on favorite Welsh hymns.
His cultural research has led him into "many other areas of Welshness.
It's a whole new way of life for me."
Williams
says that "there is a whole new revolutionary spirit in Wales"
that is significantly different from the days when he was growing up
there. He can remember a time in the early 60's when he was in a pub
in Swansea. The people were singing their usual Welsh hymns in the background
and a friend said to him, "Peter, listen very carefully. What you hear
are the last kicks of a dying language." Williams also remembers that
in 1962, a Welsh poet and playwright, Saunders Lewis, gave an address
on Radio Cymru announcing that the Welsh language was all but
dead. People needed to realize that something must be done. That speech
was the call to arms for many Welsh people." It wasn't enough," Peter
says, "to fly a Welsh flag, or to dress up on St. David's Day."
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