Sara Cox sits in

Reverend Alan Sorensen, Church of Scotland Minister and Broadcaster

I’m bilingual, I speak English and Glaswegian! Glaswegian really is pretty much a language. I just think back to the Stanley Baxter with his “Parliamo Glasgow” comedy sketches in the 60s. Phrases such as an instruction for an alternative sibling to fetch butter for your mum were translated as, “can’t yer urra brurra get a punna burra furra murra?” Great stuff!

It’s International Mother Languages Day today, a UN initiative to celebrate our sweetie-shop of linguistic diversity - which we will explore here on Pause for Thought. For example, Adrian Plass and Shelina Janmohammed will suggest a couple of languages which are in fact universal and Martin Saunders will touch on how best to really hear one another whatever our mother tongue.

Of course, you may well be wondering if I will be extolling the virtues of Gaelic. But I’m afraid all I know in Gaelic is how to wish someone a happy new year, say cheers and recite part of a psalm – for which I won 10 bob when I was 12. I’m from the central belt of Scotland, Gaelic is not my mother tongue. I speak English - and Glaswegian.

There is a great wee story in the Bible designed to explain why we all speak different languages. We humans decided to build the Tower of Babel to reach up to God, but he was having none of it, and to thwart this he gave all the nations different languages so that they couldn’t communicate and complete the building.

Communication is what it’s all about. Not just the meaning of the words, but what our languages say about who we are. I learned to speak broad Glasgwegian despite polite English being spoken in our house simply in order to survive at primary school which didn’t like anyone who sounded “like a snob”. Mother Languages Day has its origin in the persecution and discrimination of Bangladeshis a generation ago, because of their language. Too often we judge by accent or ability to articulate,…or language.

At a training event from my days in retail management one member of our group constantly contributed in a broad accent and used a lot of swear words. He was generally ignored. But he was a plant. The trainers had given him all the answers our group needed. We ignored him because of he sounded uncouth. But he was right.

The lesson? From shopworker to top politician to refugee, it’s the quality of the person and the importance of what they say that matters. The difference in language is just a wee gift from God. Right! Ra’ts it, ye’v hud yer whack. Ahm aff noo! Cheers hen!