A state of blissful ignorance?

At the school where I currently teach, there's a bright, ambitious lad who is as keen on engines as he is on English. He often asks for my opinion on aspects of English life. He's a huge fan of the TV show Top Gear and, specifically, Jeremy Clarkson himself. Though I do not share his fascination with the man, I'm happy that my student has found a topic – or a vehicle, if you will – through which to express himself and his likes and dislikes in a language that is not his own. I'm even happier that while the BBC may broadcast Clarkson's shows over here; the presenter's opinions that are not voiced on an international platform seem less likely to be discovered by eager 14-year-olds in Switzerland.

We all know that Clarkson has been in trouble over language in the past, and has been threatened with the sack by the BBC. But I doubt that his latest comments will lead to that. He's reported to have taken aim at the Welsh language, this time; calling it a “maypole around which a bunch of hotheads can get all nationalistic”. Some people in England seem to like to denigrate things they have little or no knowledge or experience of. So spouting rubbish about their neighbour is just lazy and boring. Welsh is significantly older than English, and English itself is a historical mix of many languages – as we know. Under the Welsh Language (Wales) Measure 2011, Welsh is also the only language that is de jure official in any part of the UK. English is merely the de facto official language. But why should such facts get in the way of a celebrity's right to rant in exchange for money?

How exactly the UN might even begin to implement his wider call to abolish some languages is anyone's guess. What an utterly ludicrous proposition! Could a multilingual version of the Welsh Not be introduced at UN level to punish people for using their native languages? Would all foreign loan words used in English also be banned (including 'penguin' – from Welsh – and words with Latin roots)?

Alternatively, Clarkson could concede that the UK's policy of foreign language learning being optional at GCSE level since 2004 is appalling. It does not justify the rejection of a multilingual world – full of cultures, histories, traditions and personal experiences that differ from his own. Respecting that diversity means engaging with it, whilst also recognising that imperialistic attitudes are one component in the constructed 'otherness' that allows resentment, fear and hate to thrive. So when I read such depressing diatribes with increasing frequency and I factor in the populist rise in anti-EU and anti-immigration sentiment, I wonder if the UK I left some four years ago has become a state of blissful ignorance during my absence.

Should children still be seen and not heard?

I read with interest a BBC report of a school in the UK having banned its primary-aged children from talking or writing in their local dialect. The school has adopted a "zero tolerance" approach – presumably in the same way that many of us strive for a zero-tolerance approach to the sloppy grammar and punctuation of some adults who could do better. At the school featured in the report, children have been 'banned' from using dialectal language in the classroom. The head teacher helpfully pointed out that this ruling only related to the classroom. This appears to be a tacit acknowledgement that even he has limited jurisdiction when it comes to policing language use.

Earlier this year, another school launched an identical initiative. But I do not believe that enough attention has been paid to the distinction between written and spoken language. They've simply been lumped together, with seemingly little concern for their very different social and communicative functions. Rather than banning certain language varieties, it is surely much more valuable for children to learn about and understand the co-existence of the different forms of communication elsewhere. Input here would include an appreciation of register, formality, audience, the distinct lack of any widespread 'standard' English accent in the UK, standard grammar and other features of writing, contrasted with other forms permitted in speaking.

Any other approach leads to the criticism that we are stigmatising people's social and regional identity as expressed through their language use. Similar linguistic discrimination existed from the 1840s until well into the 20th century in Wales with the Welsh Not, where schoolchildren were punished for speaking their native Welsh language at school. Children – can cope with multiple language varieties, whether these are dialects or separate languages. Were this not the case, then no-one would ever become bilingual.

As I have no doubt mentioned previously, German-speaking Switzerland, in contrast, positively celebrates its linguistic diversity in schools and in society generally. As the form of standard German used by national newsreaders (and almost no-one else) does not enjoy the prestige of one's local dialect, I was tasked with creating a 'language code' at school, a simple rule for pupils' day-to-day language use. This has nothing to do with banning children from speaking using their own dialect(s). Rather, it has everything to do with a lack of proficiency on my part and that of my other non-Swiss teaching colleague, where our understanding of Swiss German forms is concerned. The rule states that in the presence of us non-Swiss, for our benefit, High German, English or French be used.

'Banning' children from using certain language forms can only be interpreted as disapproval of language forms that have – standard or not – served their communicative needs. Banning them arguably also does children a disservice. Children need to at least be aware of important cultural and linguistic differences if they are to be expected, at some point in later life, to interpret and work with all the language varieties they encounter beyond the school gates.