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‘Bluenoser Brummies’

I was born in Nova Scotia, that “lobster-shaped” eastern Canadian province with a marine tradition legendary across the world.
Dan McSweeney
Dan McSweeney

I was born in Nova Scotia, that “lobster-shaped” eastern Canadian province with a marine tradition legendary across the world. It’s a peninsula that juts out in the Atlantic with more than 4,500 miles of seacoast; home to some of the most charming “postcard lighthouses” anywhere in the world. It is also the birthplace of one of the world’s best-known sailors: Joshua Slocum, the first man to sail single-handedly around the world. It has historically drawn its lifeblood from the sea and visitors from near and far savour its rich seafaring heritage when welcomed by locals to its rugged shores.

I take special pride in being a Nova Scotian, a fact that makes me a Bluenoser.* And while “Bluenoser” doesn’t specifically refer to an accent, people can detect “something a little different” in the way we “Bluenosers” speak. When we spent more than 27 years a couple of thousand miles away in our adopted home of Thompson, Manitoba, many of our friends there picked up on little inflections that gave our east coast heritage away. And at Carleton University in Ottawa almost 50 years ago, a linguistics professor took a stab at my origins from the way I spoke. He did the same for others and was remarkably accurate. He offered two possibilities for me. “You are either from Buffalo, New York – or from the Maritimes, most likely the Halifax area.” And he was bang on – Halifax, Nova Scotia.

THE LAND OF ‘BRUMMIES’

It makes me realize how local influences such as a blending of cultures determine the subtleties of how we speak. Now that we are becoming more familiar with England, it’s abundantly clear how the English language is spoken so differently across the UK. There’s “posh-talk” English; Cockney, southern; northern; West Country English; Liverpool “Scouse;” Welsh; Scottish; British Jamaican – just to cite a few. Some are obvious; others are more subtle and defy detection by amateurs like me. I can certainly tell a “posh” British accent from a Cockney, but all the rest blend together – and they are delightful in their own way in the ears of a Canadian enjoying all things British.

Our Canada-based son Ian, an up-and-coming writer and producer of Electronic Dance Music (mcsweeneyedm), regularly communicates with music industry colleagues all over the world. He told a fellow musician in Derbyshire, England that his parents were moving to Solihull in the English Midlands. Ian’s friend explained that we were about to enter the land of “Brummies” which pretty much means where people speak with a “Birmingham accent.” I had no idea what “Brummies” meant; just as I am sure Brummies have not heard of “Bluenosers.”

“Brummie” describes someone from Birmingham. And if you live in Birmingham and surrounding areas, you most likely speak with some variation of a “Brummie” accent – and use words and phrases strange to newcomers. The word Brummie originates from historic city names – Bromwicham or Brummagem. The accent evolved over time and extends across the city of 1.2 million and into places like nearby Solihull where we live. My sense, based on what I hear on the High Street, is that most “Sihillians” speak with a Standard English accent – with traces of Brummie. Wander into the Bull Ring along Corporation Street in central Birmingham, and the accent most decidedly thickens.

Survey says!

When Ian spoke with some British expats in Nova Scotia, they had a muted reaction to the Birmingham area. They looked at each other and rolled their eyes wondering why we had not chosen to settle somewhere else in England. I realize Birmingham does have “issues” – then again every large metropolitan area does. What I have concluded is that the “down-to-earth” non-posh way Birmingham folk speak might be a contributing factor to “the caution.” And after some research, my suspicions seem correct. In 2008, a survey was conducted to determine if people graded intelligence by accents. The results showed that if you speak with a posh southern English dialect, even though you might be as dumb as a bag of hammers, you are probably considered gifted with brain power.

Such posh accents tend to suggest the speaker comes from a segment of society associated with “power, influence and money.” Therefore they must be smart! And if that is so, then perhaps its best to move to an area of perceived great intelligence. In this survey, the “Brummie” accent was ranked as “the least intelligent” – in fact if someone kept their mouth shut in silence, they would be rated higher than a Brummie. In other words, a Brummie accent is the most disfavoured variety of British English. I accept the validity of the survey results; but I know such attitudes are pure twaddle.

In Canada, folks with a Newfoundland accent are slagged by the same ill-informed perspective. I have known many Newfoundlanders over the years, especially in Thompson, Manitoba, where I benefited from their intelligence – often delivered in a homespun way – but still filled with gems of wisdom. In fact, I believe one well-known Newfoundlander is amongst the smartest of Canadians. He’s Rex Murphy, a TV presenter and author who appears weekly on Canada’s national broadcasting service, the CBC. I may not always agree with him, but I believe this Oxford educated Rhodes Scholar with a Newfoundland accent has more brain power than most people. And Newfoundland-born comedian and political satirist Rick Mercer is no slouch either.

The meaning of ‘Bluenoser’

I mentioned earlier of my “Bluenoser” birth – and didn’t explain origin of the name. There are at least a couple of theories. One is that it came into the use in the 18th century from Nova Scotian fishermen who wore hand died sweaters and mitts to keep them warm when fishing on the cold Atlantic. They had blue stains on their noses from wiping them with mitts or a sweater sleeve. (Who would have thought? Perhaps if Kleenex had been invented – we just might have been tagged with a different name!)

The other is that “Bluenose” refers to a variety of once popular potato (blue on one end), an export from Nova Scotia to the New England States in the mid 1800s. New Englanders are said to have referred to the seafarers who brought them as “Bluenoses” or “Bluenosers.” And then there is the “Bluenose” racing schooner that appears on the Canadian dime. Some people think it is why we Nova Scotians are called Bluenosers. It would appear that’s not the case – the vessel launched in 1921 came long after the Bluenose term (I say with a smile) was “coined.”

After living here, we just might take a Brummie accent back to Canada. It won’t be intentional; accents are picked up more by osmosis than by intent. Studies show that most people unconsciously mimic what they hear spoken around them – not to be insulting, rather as a gesture of empathy and endearment. From our English adventure in the English Midlands, we just might join a very exclusive club proud to call themselves “Bluenoser Brummies.” I might call out to a friend in downtown Bridgewater, N.S. and say with a mixture of Bluenose and Brummie accents and expressions: “Oy mate, how’s it going, hoser? If you’re poppin’ down the outdoor, have a schooner and a donair for me, eh?”

* Note: The correct term may actually be “Bluenoses.” It is, however, seldom used.

Dan McSweeney, a Halifax native, first worked as a reporter at the old Halifax Herald, then got a taste of public relations work at Canadian National Railway in Moncton, before coming to Thompson in 1980 to work for Inco. He retired back home to Bridgewater on Nova Scotia’s south shore in June 2007 after 27½ years with Inco here. He blogs at mcsweeneysdiversion.wordpress.com.

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