they minted 6 Irish faces, and I have one of them

[the_siobhan]

I had this conversation with a couple of people last night about the experience of being part of the Irish diaspora.

Culturally I'm about as Canadian as it gets. I've lived her since I was just under three years old, most of my "real" memories are set in Canada. Most of my attitudes and values are a direct result of living in the largest city in the country with one of the most diverse populations.

So you know, not all that Irish.

I wasn't even born there. My parents met in England. I have an Irish passport because my parents are Irish born and raised. For a long time that led to the_axel telling me I was actually English, a practice that came very close to getting him brained with something heavy and made out of metal.

But at the same time, I do identify at least partly with the condition of "being" Irish. Not because of some mystical connection or or some misguided idea that one can identify with a culture based on reading about it.

But because the whole history of my family is very strongly tied up with having come from that country and it's weird-ass version of Catholicism. (As opposed to any other country's particular weird-ass version of Catholicism.) The dysfunction that has been handed down from generation to generation. The alcoholism. Some of the genetic stuff. The experiences of my parents' that have profoundly shaped their lives have in their turn profoundly and inescapably influenced mine; my experiences, my personality, all the things I've celebrated and struggled with over the years.

I'm not Irish in that I did not grow up there, any ideas I might have about the current culture are based solely on what I know from relatives who never left. But to say I'm not Irish is to negate a huge component in what influenced my life. As much as being born white. As much as being born female.

I don't wear green to celebrate Padraig - I usually avoid pubs on his night. I don't think of myself of being particularly proud of being Irish. (Although I occasionally make jokes about being proud of having survived being Irish.) I loathe leprauchauns and shamrocks and all the kitschy bullshit.

And I will never, unless it is the final option in the struggle to save my loved ones from the Zombie Apocalypse, ever be caught dead drinking green fucking beer.

Comments

[marchenland.livejournal.com]

Proper beer can't be dyed green. Dur.

I get v. sick of St. Patrick's Day. Me, all damn day: "For the millionth time, red hair and green eyes do NOT a fucking Irish lass make, now GO AWAY!"

Although, I do think that said combo should get me a pass on wearing green on the day. Not that I would; I avoid wearing any color that implies I've picked a side in ancient wars. Except maybe black. That's about the only appropriate color.

[the-siobhan.livejournal.com]

Every year I get asked why I'm not wearing green for St Paddy's day. And I always say I'm already Irish, green is for wannabees.

Although I did dye my hair green once for the occasion.