Poem: Say It Outside School

Llinos Dafydd

As a writer, poet, and mam living in Ceredigion, I’m always drawn to the emotional undercurrents of Welsh life — the stories that sit between headlines and home.

This poem is a response to the Welsh Language Commissioner’s new five-year plan, which puts young people, care, and the workplace at the heart of Cymraeg’s future.

If we’re serious about making Welsh a living, everyday language — it can’t stop at the school gates.

We need to hear it on buses, in cafés, in job interviews and waiting rooms.

This poem is for the generation who want to siarad Cymraeg everywhere.

Say It Outside School

(for the ones who still carry it home)

Say it outside school.
Say it where the signs forget you,
where the welcome mat says “Croeso”
but the staff only speak English.
Say it anyway.

Say it in the café,
even if the barista says
“Sorry, what?”
Say it with your chin up.
Say it twice if you have to.

Say it on the bus.
In the group chat.
On your TikTok,
in your playlist,
on the street where nobody else does —
yet.

Say it when you’re nervous.
Say it when they say,
“Just speak English to make it easier.”
Easier for who?

Say it in the job interview.
In the waiting room.
In the hospital corridor
where someone’s nain needs
the comfort of her mamiaith,
not a clipboard translation.

Say it without flinching.
Without shrinking.
Without switching.
Let it fill the room.
Let it sound like home.

And if they say,
“But nobody speaks it anymore,”
smile —
and remind them
that you do.
That you’re not the only one.
That it’s not a relic,
it’s a rhythm.

We are not echoes.
We are speakers.
We are not the end of the story.
We are the ones
writing the next line.

Llinos Dafydd