A 2018 report by the Children’s Commissioner highlighted the educational disparities between Southern and Northern parts of England. It found that young people in the South are more likely to attend university than their Northern counterparts. (https://www.childrenscommissioner.gov.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Growing-Up-North-March-2018-1.pdf). The fact that there is a higher level of attainment from those who attended schools in the South immediately establishes a boundary between Southern and Northern students. Naturally, then, when these two groups meet within the university contexts, there is a divide between them.
For me personally, the North-South divide very quickly made itself apparent when I started university two years ago. In the Yorkshire town I grew up in, I had never encountered privately educated students. So, when I turned up to my flat in the first year of university, it was a bit of a shock when I was the only one out of six flatmates who had attended a public school, it has to be said. Of course, private schools aren’t isolated to the South only; they do exist in the North. However, I’ve found that much of the culture attached to private education can also be found in the stereotypical image of Southern parts of the country.
Often, there is a significant cultural barrier which comes alongside the geographical boundaries. For example, the South is often associated with a degree of unfriendliness and hostility, most likely as a result of the stereotypical ‘Londoner’. Meanwhile, the North – especially the North-East – is understood as a welcoming and friendly space. From my own experience, I think this is, in some ways, translated within the university experience.
There is an assumption, whether that be legitimate or entirely internalised, that speaking with the ‘correct’ and standardised language provides a degree of validation to the points you are making.
Before moving to university, I wasn’t even aware I had an accent. But two years of speaking in English Literature seminars has made me all too aware of my ‘mispronounced’ words. When most of the class speak with ‘proper’ English, it feels as though my own words hold less value than theirs. There is an assumption, whether that be legitimate or entirely internalised, that speaking with the ‘correct’ and standardised language provides a degree of validation to the points you are making. After all, what kind of English student refuses to pronounce their ‘t’s and ‘g’s?
It is for these reasons, then, which create the impression of a divide between different areas and the reinforcement of social boundaries.