797. Scream

There are times I am forced into English and times I am forced into religion. This post must be written in English. It bothers me but it is necessary. A time will come when it is not, I hope.

Let’s talk about consent.

What? You taught us we have no choice and now you are blaming us for not telling you our choice, for not screaming aloud? We are not allowed to scream aloud. We have no choice. You taught us that, Ireland!

This weekend I am getting greetings of Happy Easter and I will reply in kind. The ones accompanied by crosses will be a trigger to me. They remind me of the almighty power of the church in Ireland that has me in exile. I have no objections to religions that respect human rights. I embrace a love of nature and genuine friendships. I find solace in sacred spaces; not ones people have told me I must respect, but those I discover. Inside, mostly I’m screaming. A long scream that is held in place and covered up with moments of genuine happiness. I keep busy because I must. Stopping and thinking about reality breaks the mask of life being grand.

SILENT SCREAMS

Mostly this post will not be my words but others’. Because I do not scream alone. I have heard the stories of those who silently scream too. I am NOT an exception. I am the rule. They don’t burn witches any more in Ireland but they have other ways to keep women down. To make our lives a waking hell. The important thing to remember in all of this is that when we start talking about consent to women in Ireland, that is a foreign concept. We have been groomed by a culture that lets us know strongly that WOMEN HAVE NO CHOICE. Men dominate. We understand that is how it is. We are screaming inside.

Not just in Ireland. Of course. In movies, in novels, in business, in church, in schools etc. But boy, in Ireland we sometimes even beat Saudi Arabia! Think it has changed? I watch my nieces go through the same crap I went through. Some of it is global. An American corporation telling one highly educated niece what to wear and the suitable length of a skirt. Another bound by an Irish education system that will never give her a choice on whether or not to teach religion. Be honest. People know. You need to say you are on board with ethos to get a job. To be clear, she has no objection to that. I do. It silences all those around her from criticism of the church for fear she won’t get a job.

BUT, it was the Belfast Rugby Rape Case that did us in. We who have lived through horrors of Magdalenes, Lovett, Tuam Babies, Savita, thinking each time that this will change everything.

So, strap in. Here we go. Some required reading to understand why we are screaming inside follows. Thank you to all who shared your stories, triggered by a court system that just made all of us go through the pain of rape again. Thousands of us. That’s what you did, guys below, when you denied your guilt:

That broke us in desperation. That sent us a message that was chilling as bedamned. It told us us we are damned. And we are, in Ireland: north, south, east, west, midlands, everywhere in a cruel patriarchal system.

‘The trial was on a par with the rape, but I’m glad I testified’

The trial is another rape. Instead of helping a woman heal, it rapes her again in public.

UNDERSTAND THIS!

Those of you who believe in the law and think it is to be respected, UNDERSTAND THIS!

We are damned by laws that enable rapists and humiliate and ruin the lives of those who dare to challenge their rapists in the court of law. You have trampled on all women and we are angry as all hell. You condemn us and all women and girls to a life where we can be used and abused and know there is no point in protesting that. You are not alone in your guilt, lads. The whole legal system is guilty with you and my contempt for the judge is MASSIVE! What she allowed and how she steered it is unbelievably cruel. The final nail in crucifying the victim is referring to the group above as decent. Did she ever refer once to the victim as decent? How bloody brave that rape victim was!

Tá an córas lofa, ní amháin in Éirinn.

Féach anseo

Judges fail miserably to communicate properly to jurors. They make matters worse.

Right, Twitter, do your stuff. Here’s reality.

We live with the guilt of not protecting other people from those who raped us. Because NO ONE is protecting women from those rapists (or children from child molesters for that matter, in a country that gives the whole education to an organization that protects child molesters, for God’s sake!).  If we try, we will be raped in another manner in court. If we don’t, we live with trauma and guilt and frustration ALL OUR LIVES. We scream inside. The Handmaid’s Tale hit home strongly.  The men who hurt us do not feel guilty. We do. The victims do! That is seriously screwed up and torturous.

WE NEVER HAD CHOICE

The fact that we can only change things by a referendum is sick and a remnant of Mc Quaid’s cruel strategy to keep his tyranny alive supplying him (and priests after him) with young boys and keeping women shut up. We should NOT have to march and work so hard for rights. That’s insane! They are rights. We should have them. The government FAILS in not giving them to us. The whole system is utterly corrupt. By keeping us in this constant fight for basic rights we lose the chance to contribute to our country in so many other positive ways!

Consent? The law tells us our bodies are not ours, for God’s sake!

The following is from this article

Consent? YOU STOLE THAT FROM US, Irish State of Mc Quaid!!! Theocracy of Ireland.

Until every guard who kept Magdalenes locked up instead of helping them is prosecuted, until every school and hospital is free of the church, until every politician and church member who aided the theocracy is prosecuted, until church land is seized and church and state separated, until we get quotas of 50% women in government, until we have human rights instead of ethos in out constitution, until we put all criminals in jail, until we treat mass murder of children as the diabolical crime that it is and prosecute those who did that and allowed that, we will not be free. We will have no choice and Irish women will be damned. As they are now.

Because it always has been a fight against the church and patriarchy.

No one is government is willing to see what is most obvious and deal with it. But WE MUST! Separate Church and State everywhere! Ethos is a cruel excuse for oppression. Choosing rights and justice instead of patriarchal domination is the only chance for freedom, the only escape from the eternal hell of internal screams. Empire is male. Whether under the control of the British Empire in the north or the Vatican Empire in the south, we are not free.

So, while we silently scream, will even one politician or one party stand up and say they will separate Church and State? That they will make all criminals accountable? Until then, you can talk all you like but you are all screwing us and we did not consent to that.

Féach ar seo

agus seo ar fad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

796. Ballaí Cancún

Is muid ar saoire le déanaí, bhí orm stopadh go minic le féachaint ar na ballaí in áit dul ag snámh gach lá mar tá an ealaín acu chomh hálainn sin. Seo cuid de na ballaí sin

Níos fearr ná dul go gailearaí!

Féach ar chuid den bpic thuas anseo. An bhfeiceann tú na daoine ina luí ar an trá?

Iasc fíorspéisiúil!

                      Is na héin a chonaiceamar anseo go minic.

Níl an áit seo saibhir ach is léir go bhfuil ardmheas acu ar ealaín. Is maith sin.

Chuir siad ionadh is gliondar orm.

795. Cú Chulainn & Kukulcán

Bhíomar ar saoire i Meicsiceó le déanaí agus thug mé faoi dearadh go raibh an t-ainm Kukulcán ar fud na háite ann. Bhí mé fiosrach faoi mar tá sé cosúil leis an ainm Cú Chulainn. Mar sin, d’iarr mé ar dhaoine inisint dom faoin Kulkulcán seo. Seo a d’fhoghlaim mé.

Cloistear scéalta faoi Kukulcán sa Yucatec Maya, i Meicsiceó.

Ina measc: buachaill ab ea é Kukulkán a rugadh mar nathair. De réir a chéile is é ag fás, d’fhás cleití air. Bhí cónaí air i bpluais agus is ansin a thug a deirfiúr aire dó. Faoi dheireadh d’fhás sé chomh mór sin nach raibh sí in ann dóthain bia a fháil dó. Mar sin, d’eitil sé ón bpluais agus isteach san fharraige, rud a spreag crith talún. Le tabhairt le fios dá dheirfiúr go bhfuil sé fós beo, bíonn cith talún ann i mí Iúil. Bíonn Kukulcán ag eitilt ar luas roimh an Dia Chaac, Dia an bháisteach. Bogann sé a eireaball le na gaoithe a bhogadh agus scuabann sé an talamh glan leis an eireaball céanna. Ceapann na Maya i Chiapas gur peata de Dhia na Gréine é.

Chichen Itzá. Tagann Kukulkán anuas mar nathair ag an gcothnocht.

 

Cloistear scéalta faoi Cú Chulainn in Éirinn. Cloiste ar scoil againn. Ina measc: is fir Ulaidh ag leanúint éanlaithe draíochta, tháinig siad go Brú na Bóinne. Is ansin a tháinig Lugh agus Deichteine le chéile, b’fhéidir. Mar sin, b’é Lugh, Dia na Gréine, athair Setanta. Tugadh an t-ainm Setanta dó ar dtús. Is é ina bhuachaill óg, mharaigh sé cú faire Chulainn. D’ofráil sé é féin le bheith mar chú Chulainn.  As sin amach, b’shin an t-ainm air. Fuair sé traenáil ó Scáthach in Albain ar An t-Eilean Sgitheanach nó Eilean a’ Cheò. D’fhoghlaim sé scileanna iontacha uaithi. Tá sé in ann rith ar luas. I gcath uair, chas Cú Chulainn timpeall le báiní go dtí go raibh sé athraithe go hiomlán in ollphéist nár aithin a chairde ná a namhaide. Is léir nach duine daonna a bhí ann ach té draíochta a bhí in ann athrú ó chruth amháin go chruth eile.

Tagann an solas isteach i líne ag grianstad an gheimhridh ag Brú na Bóinne

Muidne ag Chichen Itzá le ag an gcomhnocht.

Cairde nua i gChichen Itzá

794. Scread

Féile na Cásca Sona.

Ní scéal sona a leanann ach tosnóimid len atá ar eolas againn. Uibheacha, coiníní, agus Íosa Críost ar chros: conas a chuireann tú sin le chéile? Bhuel. Faigheann plandaí bás (ar bhealach) sa gheimhreadh agus fásann siad arís (ar bhealach) san Earrach. Sin aiséirí. Níl scread ann. Fireann sa scéal sa Bhíobla cé go bhfuil an Nádúr feicthe mar bhaineann i go leor cultúir. Uibheacha agus coiníní? Torthúlacht, ar ndóigh. Nach deas an smaoineamh go mbeadh grá san aer le créatúirí ag teacht le chéile agus fás is tuismitheoirí ag súil leis!

Ach seo a tharla i mBéal Feirste timpeall Féile na Cásca. Níl tada sona faoi. Tá éigniú ceadaithe sa tuaisceart. Ní raibh sí ag súil lena tharla di. Níor scread sí. Níor scread mé. Ní screadann daoine. Ní mar sin atá sé. Ach ní muidne a scríobh an dlí. Ceapann an dlí go mba cóir di screadaíl. Go bhfuil sin nádúrtha, dar leis na fir atá eolach ar an dlí. Tada nádúrtha faoi a tharla di. Ionsaí.

D’iarr sí ar an dlí cúnamh agus cosaint a thabhairt di. Bhí sí ag súil leis. Ní mar sin atá sé. Leads mór le rá le rugbaí a bhí iontu, nach bhfuil fhios agat. Ní raibh fhios aici go nathródh sin gach rud. Dheara, níl sin fíor. Ní raibh seans aici ar aon chaoi. Cosnaíonn an dlí na daoine a d’éignigh í agus ionsaíonn an dlí í arís go poiblí. Sin mar atá sé. Rud nach raibh sí ag súil leis. Níor scread sí sa chúirt cé go raibh muidne ag screadadh is muid ag léamh a bhí ag tarlú. Nuair atá tú ann is ionsaí nach raibh tú ag súil leis ag tarlú, ní screadann tú.

Consent in some situations may be given enthusiastically, whereas in others it is given with reluctance, but nevertheless it is still consent, arsa an breitheamh. GML? With reluctance?

You must not allow yourself to be influenced by any view, ar sí. Fan. Céard?

You must be firmly convinced or sure of the defendants’ guilt before you can find him guilty of any offence. Er, fan arís. Roimh … Cathain?

Fág emotion as, ar sí. Oh no, a deirim. Bíodh emotion ann. Bíonn tuiscint agus cion ann. An meon sin go bhfuil emotion lag? Sin gnéasachas. D’fhág  na leads emotion iomlán as agus ní raibh sa bhean ach píosa feola dóibh. Gá le emotion agus croí, rud nach raibh acu. An locht sa dlí anseo. Drochchomhairle!

Bhí an bhean ciontach sular iarr sí cúnamh, dar leis an dlí, mar is bean í. Ní muidne a scríobh an dlí. Ní hí a bhí ciontach. Chosain siad na daoine a d’éagnaigh í. Lig siad na fir saor ag rá go raibh siad decent! Cad a deireann sin fúithi?! Sin éigniú eile.

Féile na Cásca Sona.

Éirí amach na Cásca. Saoirse a leanann 1916. Forógra a deireann, A fheara agus a mhná … Sa dara háit ach muid ansin ar a laghad. Cearta, saoirse, deireadh le himpireacht. Cheapamar. Ní mar sin atá sé.

Ghoid Dev agus McQuaid saoirse dínn. Le míniú ar an brat ceangailte le reiligiúin, bhíomar i dtrioblóid. Fuath ban iontu sa deisceart agus sa tuaisceart a d’fhás ón éigniú.

Act of Union

To-night, a first movement, a pulse,
As if the rain in bogland gathered head
To slip and flood: a bog-burst,
A gash breaking open the ferny bed.
Your back is a firm line of eastern coast
And arms and legs are thrown
Beyond your gradual hills. I caress
The heaving province where our past has grown.
I am the tall kingdom over your shoulder
That you would neither cajole nor ignore.
Conquest is a lie. I grow older
Conceding your half-independant shore
Within whose borders now my legacy
Culminates inexorably.

II

And I am still imperially
Male, leaving you with pain,
The rending process in the colony,
The battering ram, the boom burst from within.
The act sprouted an obsinate fifth column
Whose stance is growing unilateral.
His heart beneath your heart is a wardrum
Mustering force. His parasitical
And ignorant little fists already
Beat at your borders and I know they’re cocked
At me across the water. No treaty
I foresee will salve completely your tracked
And stretchmarked body, the big pain
That leaves you raw, like opened ground, again.

Seamus Heaney

Níor scread sí. Éire. Ach tá pian ghoimhiúil fós sa tír ón ionsaí. Airímid sin san Dialathas againn. Mar tá impireacht imperially male i ndáiríre. Tá Éire oscailte: opened ground. Meon nach bhfuil oscailte i gceannas. Meon atá gléasta i dteanga an dlí atá chomh hoscailte le gaiste. Ní Éire a scríobh an dlí.  The big pain. Fós ann. Ach ní screadann muid.

Féile na Cásca Sona

Comhaontú Aoine an Chéasta. Comhaontú. Dáiríre? Conas? Ní ‘Ba bhreá linn gan bás a fháil is mar sin aontóimid faoi rudaí nach bhfuil ceart is cóir ach a ndéanfaidh an jab’? Conradh. Margadh. Ar nós Plea Bargain. So… má theipeann ar Shasana, an linne an tír arís? Níl sin scríofa ann? Nach raibh Cearta Daonna sa Chomhaontú sin? Trimble, Hume, Mitchell: fir sa stair mar a léim an scéal. Cá raibh na mná? Ní muid a scríobh é. Ar scread éinne? Fir is a gcluichí. An raibh muid sa seomra fiú? Daddy knows best. Ní mar sin atá sé.

Éire, tuaisceart, líne a tharraing daoine ar mhapa. Bhí bean in Éirinn (ar an oileán) is d’éignigh fir í. Chomh láidir sin go raibh sí ag cur fola. A cás sa chúirt roimh Aoine an Chéasta. Is bhí sí céasta. Rud nach raibh sí ag súil leis. Mar labhair sí amach. Cé go raibh siad ag tabhairt amach nár scread sí! Níl aon bua do bhean sa chluiche seo. Deireann sé linn ar fad, Dún suas faoi éigniú. Deireann sé le fir, Ar aghaidh libh: tá an dlí libh. Ba chóir dúinn go léir bheith ag screadaíl go hard faoi sin.

Agus na decent men sin? Cad a bhí le rá acu? Bhuel, ní decent ar chor ar bith a scríobh

siad fúithi agus faoi mhná:

Céard a rinne siad? Bhuel, fianaise:

Creidim í. Ní chreidim sa dlí. Níl an dlí le trust!

Lig an dlí an ceathrar saor!

Seo Éire. Tír na Magdalenes. Mar atá ó bhí mé in ann na cásanna sa chúirt a léamh agus i bhfad roimhe sin. Sa tír ar fad. Seo Club na Leads. Tá an NRA ag SAM; tá impireacht amháin nó impireacht eile againn agus iad uilig lán le fuath ban. Seo an chuid is measa den tír againn. Tír Savita. Tír Lovett. Tír Tuam Babies. CAITHFEAR seo a athrú!

Ní náire seo agus ní cabhraíonn an teanga sin ar chor ar bith. Is teachtaireacht láidir ghránna í ar nós an saol san Handmaid’s Tale a deireann le mná: beidh sibh íslithe, náirithe go poiblí agus ní chreidfidh an dlí sibh. Seo ionsaí ar chuile bhean sa tír.

Cheap sí go raibh an dlí ar a taobh. Ní raibh.

Women are expected to provide an audience for dominant men’s victim narratives, providing moral care, listening, sympathy and soothing.

Léite agam anseo agus cloiste agam ó dhuine a shlog siar seafóid a múintear anseo i SAM. Ná glac leis seo. Seas an fód. Casann siad an scéal bun os cionn. Ná lig dóibh sin a dhéanamh.

Tháinig mná na hÉireann amach an lá dár gcion. Maith iad!

Scríobh mé faoi ábhar mar seo cheana agus an baint ag an Eaglais leis anseo.

Nuair a smaoiním siar ar na mná a d’imigh romham, ní dóigh liom gur éalaigh duine amháin acu ó ionsaithe agus foréigean. Níor éalaigh mise. Mé ag léamh scéalta inniu a bhriseann mo chroí, ní hamháin mar tá aithne ar bhealach agam orthu ach mar tá ‘fhios agam go bhfuil i bhfad níos mó amuigh ansin agus gur deacair do bhean dul tríd an saol gan a bheith ionasaithe. Ach fanaimid ciúin.

Bhí mé ag caoineadh sa charr inniu agus mé ag tiomáint. Ní raibh mé in ann dul a chodladh aréir mar tuigim. Is fuath liom go dtuigim. Níl athrú ag teacht ar seo go luath. Beidh i bhfad níos mó againn ag dul tríd an bpian sin nach n-imíonn go deo. Ach seasaimid an fód, fiú nuair nach bhfuil éinne ag éisteacht linn mar céard eile is féidir a dhéanamh i dtír nach ndearna tada faoi na Tuam Babies ná Magdalenes, nár chuir daoine i bpríosún, a ligeann leads saor mar imríonn siad rugbaí agus is leads iad?

TÁ FEARG ORM!

Ar nós scread gan stad istigh ionam ach níl éinne in ann é a chloisteáil.

Beidh sé liom go deo, b’fhéidir.

Scar Stát/Eaglais. Freagracht as gach coir in aghaidh mná na hÉireann de dhíth!

Níl seo ceart go leor agus tuigimid sin.        

Sínigí seo le bhur dtoil

 

 

 

793. Ciníochas QUB

Sa scannán In the Time of the Butterflies (bunaithe ar fhíorscéal), eiríonn le bean, Minerva, céim sa dlí a bhaint amach i 1957 le cead ón deachtóir Trujillo. Cleas atá ann, áfach. Tá céim aici ach níl cead aici an chéim a úsáid. Rud nár inis sé di roimh ré. Ní fiú tada an obair ar fad a chuir sí isteach. Bhain sé cumhacht uaithi. Feall cruálach.

Mar an gcéanna a tharlaíonn leis an nGaeilge. Níl brí le teanga i ndáiríre nuair nach bhfuil sí i mbéal an phobail. Nuair nach féidir í a úsáid taobh amuigh den scoil. Cén maitheas an obair ar fad munar féidir le duine an teanga a labhairt ná a fheiceáil fiú!

An dochar sin déanta le náire in Éirinn ar fad. Ciníochas a mhúin siad dúinn is a d’fhoghlaim an iomarca rómhaith: daoine a cheapann nach bhfuil luach sa teanga. Daoine sa Dáil gan meas madra acu ar an teanga. Rialtas nach labhraíonn an teanga fiú! Dochar na himpireachta. Ar a laghad tá an teanga le feiceáil ar na comharthaí sa desiceart agus cabhraíonn sin go mór.

Rialacha difriúla ó thuaidh. Ollscoil ag cur cosc ar theanga na tíre? Aineolas dochreidthe agus feall ollmhór ansin. Bhí fógraí as Gaeilge i Queen’s University Belfast ach thóg siad anuas iad i 1997 mar ní raibh an teanga ‘neodrach’! Níl fógraí as Gaeilge ceadaithe níos mó?! Sin an nuacht anois.

Níl ann ach ciníochas. Aineolas. Fuath. Cleas cruálach. Feall. Nár fhreastail Heaney ar QUB! Bheadh sé ar buile faoi. Meas ar an áit iomlán caillte agam. Seo a scríobh QUB (Queen’s University Belfast):

Sheol leas-seansailéir gníomhach James McElnay seo go An Cumann Gaelach QUB: The university, through its equality and diversity policy, is committed to the promotion of equality of opportunity. The university seeks to create and sustain a neutral working environment that values and celebrates the diversity of all its staff and its student body, in accordance with its charter and statutes. Section 3.1 of the policy highlights the university’s commitment to ‘providing a good and harmonious environment free from flags, emblems, posters, graffiti or other materials or actions or language likely to be provocative, offensive or intimidatory.

Tá Gaeilge intimidatory, offensive, provocative? Ar nós daoine gorma a bheith mar sin do Trump? Nó an fuath atá ann? Ciníochas, a chairde. Sin atá ann go simplí: ciníochas.

Foghlaim Gaeilge ach ná bíodh sí le cloisteáil ná le feiceáil, Queen’s? Glanadh eitneach ar siúl agaibh. Teangadhíothú. Just, go bhfios daoibh. Ar nós a rinne Trujillo.

 

792. Essential Irish Phrases

Ní mise a chum seo. Le fáil ó snag.ie le Energia: maith iad! #SnaG18

 

791. Ceol na nAingeal

Tá sé oifigiúil! An nuacht faighte againn inniu. Tá craobh nua de Chomhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann againn i gCathair na nAingeal agus Ceol na nAingeal is ainm di. Bhí craobh anseo cheana. Sos le blianta anois ó bhí craobh Des Regan anseo. Súil againn go mbeidh muid in ann a thosaigh siad a leanúint.

Erin Scott Haines a bhailigh muid le chéile is tháinig ceoltóirí is daoine le grá acu don chultúr le chéile. Comhghairdeas léi! Éacht.

Ceol, Teanga, Rince atá againn ar shiombal CnaG LA agus bhí sé ag cur isteach orm le fada nach raibh dóthain déanta againn don cheol. Tá rince le Céilí Rua ag fás go maith. Na teangachaí ag dul ar aghaidh go maith freisin. Anois, tá ardáthas orm. Ceol san áireamh is cairde nua againn le cabhrú linn. Comhoibriú ar siúl freisin le spórt le Play Hurling LA.

Sa Mhuileann gCearr a thosaigh an scéal seo fadó agus is as an Muileann gCearr mé féin. Rud a chuireann bród orm. B’fhéidir go mbeidh muid in ann turas ar ais go dtí an áit inar thosaigh gach rud a eagrú.

Sin an scéal anocht, a chairde. Ardáthas orm gur éirigh linn seo a dhéanamh le linn Seachtain na Gaeilge i mBliain na Gaeilge. Ag súil go mór le cur leis an scéal seo.

 

 

790. Hé, Hollywood, Tuig Churchill

Spreagtha ag alt sa Guardian anseo

Conas Churchill a thuiscint? Ní mar laoch. Níorbh shin a bhí ann. A mhalairt ar fad. An-deacair dom féachaint ar phictúirí dó ar na ballaí in áiteachaí anseo in LA. Cé a thabharfadh meas do dhuine mar sin?! Nach dtuigeann siad?

Mé ag fáil tinn na laethanta seo ag breathnú ar British é seo is é siúd chuile háit ar nós The Crown is Victoria is Churchill i Darkest Hour srl. Ní hé nach bhfuil maitheas iontu ach go bhfuil leagan amháin den stair á fhoghlaim ag daoine agus níl sé ceart. Tá mé braon den ghlóir, den mhustar is mórdháil, den chór ar nós aingil ag canadh Alélúia.

Laoch a bhí i gChurchill? An cuimhin linn Dresden? Ní raibh gá leis an scrios iomlán ansin ach b’shin a bhí ó Churchill. Ba cuma leis go raibh daoine maithe sna háiteachaí sin.

‘Séard a dúirt Churchill é féin faoin stair ná go mbeadh an stair lách leis mar scríobhfadh sé féin í. Sotalach agus fealltach, nach ea! Scríobhann impireacht a stair féin ina teanga féin. Ní thuigeann daoine anseo i Hollywood ná ar fud an domhain cén sórt duine ab ea é i ndáiríre agus tá sé thar a bheith in am sin a cheartú!

Is breá le daoine a dúirt Churchill: We shall not flag nor fail. We shall go on to the end. […] We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets. […] We shall never surrender srl. Ar ndóigh ní raibh Churchill é féin le dul amach ansin ach bhí sé chun daoine eile a sheoladh amach le bás a fháil ar son na himpireachta. B’shin a bhí ann. Mar bhí Sasana i gcontúirt.

Céard a rinne Churchill a bhí uafásach? Bhuel …

I 1920 bhí Churchill ag iarraidh an bhuamáil ón aer céanna sin a tharla i nDresden a úsáid in Éirinn. I 1921 sa Mheaspatáim (agus féach ar an tSiria anois), bhí sé ag iarraidh gás nimhe a úsáid le fáil réidh leis na uncivilised tribes ann. Buamáil ó aer, an rogha acu an uair sin. Is lena chaint faoi na uncilivised tribes sin, tuig go maith an ciníochas ann. Faoin Afganastáin dúirt sé go mba chóir do dhaoine ann the superiority of [the British] race a aithint. Sa Chéinia sheas sé le daoine a dhíbirt ón talamh is fearr is iad (150,000 acu)  achur i sluachampa géibhinn, áit inar chéasadh iad. San India is mó a bhí an damáiste. Bhí Churchill ag iarraidh gás nimhe a úsáid orthu ach níor lig an rialtas dó sin a dhéanamh. Bhí Churchill ar buille faoi sin.  I 1943 fuair 4,000,000 bás i ngorta mar gheall ar a rinne Churchill. Thóg sé bia uathu le tabhairt go saighdúirí na Breataine. Bhí sé ag iarraidh Gandhi a mharú chomh maith. Mar a chonaic Leopold Amery (státrúnaí na hIndia) é, bhí Churchill cosúil le Hitler. 

Is muid in am #MeToo, nach uafásach ar fad glóir a thabhairt d’fhear a d’ionsaí a bhean chéile is do scannán a thugann glóir d’fhear a d’ionsaí tíortha. Mar a dúirt Gabriel Byrne, an fhadhb le #MeToo ná it hasn’t gone far enough.

So, dúisigh, Hollywood! Bhí mé tinn ag féachaint ar Jackie Chan a tabhairt meas d’Éireannach mar throid sé san Iaráic sa scannán The Foreigner! Ní ceart do Shasana bheith sa tír sin sa chéad áit ar son Dé! Agus Adams srl? Bolscaireacht thar a bheith ait.

Stair i gceart led thoil, Hollywood.

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789. Seo is Brí Linn

Cé muid? Cad is brí linn?

Smaointe is muid ag ceiliúradh Seachtain na Gaeilge. You speak Gaelic, right?  Why don’t Irish people speak Irish? Nó as Gaeilge fiú: Cén fáth a mbíonn drogall ar dhaoine Gaeilge a labhairt? Sin na ceisteanna is mó a fhaighim anseo i SAM. Mar sin, le cúrsaí a mhíniú do dhaoine le Béarla a mhúin leagan na himpearachta den stair, tá freagraí uaim dóibh inniu i dteanga na himpireachta ach le tuiscint na nGael.

Spreag an físeán seo ar fad inniu

The ‘initiative’ of Empire as mentioned in the video above was to make the language (Irish) disappear: to demean it, to murder it. Linguicide.

Think about the word ‘demean.’ It was to forcefully, cruelly strip us of our culture, of meaning, and indeed of our very existence until there would be no evidence we were ever here. Our only ‘valid’ meaning would as British ‘civilized’ citizens. The ‘initiative’ was to erase evidence of all that made us Irish, to make us ashamed of being Irish, and hate who we are.

It was to take away the name ‘Irish’ from the language and replace it with ‘Gaelic’ and, in so doing, take away the association of the language with our nation (which was to be assimilated too). It was the planting of the idea that ‘Gaelic’ was obscure: long gone & forgotten. Irish? What’s that? That’s not even a language! That massive crime of Imperialism is still in people’s heads. Some have forgotten the cause of it.

It is a shame that was passed from generation to generation. We need to lose the shame, the fear of being mocked. We need to stop mocking as we were taught to mock. We must recognize racism in our midst and call it out. You haven’t gone all Gaelic, have you! Those are words of derision that slip out of people’s mouths because that’s what was passed down.

John O’Brien wrote an article recently in The Irish Times of his fear of speaking Irish in Ireland: The hardest part was hearing myself speak Irish out loud in front of other Irish people. I feared they would judge my waning ability, or think I was some showy langer. I still feel it, almost six years later whenever I visit home, but I push through. That is the barrier to break: to stop people from demeaning us, to stop the shaming.

It takes a long time for a nation to recover from the trauma of having its identity trampled upon. But it IS happening and it is a joy to watch! We have meaning again. Not as imitations of other people, but as ourselves. Not afraid. We are excited and empowered. Irish is growing as a result of the hard work of many groups such as Conradh na Gaeilge. It is far healthier than it was when this video was made.

Thankfully it is becoming far more common to hear young people speaking with each other naturally in Irish on buses, on trains, in shops. When we don’t need the Pop-Up Gaeltachts as a crutch (as a safe zone) anymore, we will be free. In the meantime, the craic it brings really helps. Despite what is said in the video, Welsh is stronger: a success story. Bless them! 

I’m proud to be part of a movement that lets people know that Irish is not dead, not shameful, not inferior. It is a treasure. It is here. WE are still here and sharing the love of the language with all we meet. When the inherited shame is dead, life has a far deeper and real meaning. More and more of us are speaking our language and loving it. That gives meaning to who I am.

Labhair í and taste the difference ☺

Bí linn. Seo is brí linn.

788. Seachtain na Gaeilge 18

Is aoibheann linn na frásaí a chuir Seachtain na Gaeilge (le Energia) amach. Spreag siad muid le cúpla focal a chur leo mar chuid de Sheachtain na Gaeilge. Is leo na cinn ar chlé. Linne na cinn ar dheis. GRMA, Seachtain na Gaeilge!