1.Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich, buain na rainich,
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich daonnan
‘S tric a bha mi fhìn ‘s mo leannan,
Anns a’ ghleannan cheòthar,
‘G èisteachd còisir bhinn an doire,
Seinn sa choille dhòmhail
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich, buain na rainich,
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich daonnan
O nam faicinn thu a’ tighinn,
Ruithinn dhol nad chòdhail,
Ach mur tig thu ‘n seo gam shireadh,
Ciamar thilleas dòchas?
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich, buain na rainich,
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich daonnan
2.Cùl an tomain, bràigh an tomain,
Cùl an tomain bhòidheach,
Cùl an tomain, bràigh an tomain,
H-uile là nam ònar
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich, buain na rainich,
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich daonnan
Anns an t-sìthean, o, gur sgìth mi,
‘S tric mo chridhe ga leònadh,
Nuair bhios càch a’ seinn nan luinneag,
Cha dèan mis’ ach crònan
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich, buain na rainich,
Tha mi sgìth ‘s mi leam fhìn,
Buain na rainich daonnan
I am tired and I am alone,
Cutting the bracken, cutting the bracken,
I am tired and I am alone,
Forever cutting the bracken
Often, my love and I,
Were in the misty glens,
Listening to the sweet choir of the grove,
Singing in the corpulent forest
I am tired and I am alone,
Cutting the bracken, cutting the bracken,
I am tired and I am alone,
Forever cutting the bracken
If I saw you coming,
I would run to meet you, but
if you don’t come here to search for me
How can hope return?
I am tired and I am alone,
Cutting the bracken, cutting the bracken,
I am tired and I am alone,
Forever cutting the bracken
Behind the knoll, the top of the knoll,
Behind the lovely knoll,
Behind the knoll, the top of the knoll,
Every day, alone
I am tired and I am alone,
Cutting the bracken, cutting the bracken,
I am tired and I am alone,
Forever cutting the bracken
In the fairy hill (or knoll, but I like fairy hill), oh I will be tired,
And often my heart would be wounded,
When others sing their songs ,
I will do nothing but drone
I am tired and I am alone,
Cutting the bracken, cutting the bracken,
I am tired and I am alone,
Forever cutting the bracken
Mar tá impireacht i gceannas. Faisiteachas fós linn.
Dóibh siúd ag ceistiú cén fáth nach bhfuil daoine ag screadadh go hard faoi atá ag tarlú do na páistí i SAM anois, cuirigí an cheist seo oraibh féin: cén fáth nach bhfuilimid in Éirinn ag screadadh amach go hard faoi Eaglais na Magdalenes fós bheith i gceannas ar scoileanna na tíre?
Cé a ligfeadh do dhream ciontach as coireanna in aghaidh na daonnachta bheith i gceannas ar rud ar bith? Ní i SAM. Ní i gceannas ar oideachas na hÉireann.
Mar sin, nuair nach dtuigeann tú, smaoinigh is tuig go bhfuil turas fada go dtí an pointe seo. D’éignigh siad ár n-inchinn le bolscaireacht ó bhíomar an-óg. Dúradh linn bheith múinte. Nuair a rinneamar rud as bealach, bhíomar ciontach. Nuair a rinne siad rud as bealach, eisceacht a bhí ann is bhí maithiúnas ag teastáil, ar siad linn. Respect for the office, ar siad i SAM. Religious freedom, ar siad in Éirinn.
Impireacht an fhadhb: iad a ghoid agus a scar leanaí óna dtuismitheoirí is a dhíol iad i SAM (sclábhaíocht fadó, príosúin anois) agus in Éirinn (Eaglais fós ag fáil airgid is ag múineadh rudaí do na páistí nach gcreideann na tuismitheoirí is iad lán le cumhacht sna scoileanna).
Aithin an fhadhb. Tuig cé chomh cleachtaithe is atáimid leis an bhfeall go ndéanaimid dearmad. Denial Central: my country is better than that! ach an bhfuil sí? An raibh sí riamh? Tuig nuair nach gceartaíar cúrsaí le freagracht go leanann an dochar ar aghaidh, ag fás, agus ag méadú. Aithin an namhaid.
Agus, ar ndóigh na Magdalenes, peidifíligh atá siad fós ag cosaint, Tuaim srl ssrl srl.
Coireanna. Freagracht de dhíth. Am i bpríosún agus cumhacht bainte ón dream ciontach atá de dhíth. I SAM agus in Éirinn.
Cad a dhéanfaimid?
Boycott. I SAM ar gach duine is grúpa a bhaineann tairbhe as an gcruálacht. Ar gach duine a thugann tacaíocht do Trump et al.
In Éirinn ar gach duine is grúpa a bhaineann tairbhe as greim na hEaglaise ar an tír. Diúltú reiligiún a mhúineadh sna scoileanna agus diúltú bheith ag obair i seomra ina bhfuil iompúchán ann le siombail na hEaglaise de dhíth. An INTO srl le dhíth sa troid seo. Cinntiú go mbeidh postanna nua le fáil do dhaoine a mhúin reiligiún cheana.
Scar oideachas ón Eaglais. An Pápa ag teacht, ná ceannnaigí ticéidí. Ná tógaigí páistí scoile ann. NÁ ligigí do na scoileanna bhur bpáistí a thabhairt ann ná caint faoi fiú. Bígí ansin, daoine fásta, le teachtaireacht láidir don cheannaire ar dhream ciontach (An Eaglais) as coireanna in aghaidh na daonnachta. Ar nós a tharla i The Handmaid’s Tale le rá leis
We believe the women
It’s sad what they’ve done to us, is neart fós inár measc nach bhfeiceann an fhadhb, nach dtuigeann nár chóir go mbeadh fáilte roimh cheannaire mar sin inár dtír, in aon tír.
Ná déanaigí dearmad
Ná déanaigí dearmad
NÁ FANAIGÍ CIÚIN FAOI.
DÉANAIMIS AN RUD CEART. Mar TÁ guth againn. Níl ag na leanaí ná ag na Magdalenes nach bhfuil linn níos mó.
Memory & Archives Aibreán 21, 2018 ag an Huntington i bPasadena, California.
Bhí orm caint faoi mo smaointe ar an scannán Song of Granite as Béarla. Seo’d iad na nótaí a bhreac mé síos roimh chaint faoi. Béarla ag teacht. GML.
Thoughts & notes about the film: time, place, identity, sean-nós, Irish, Seosamh etc.
Mícheál Ó Confhaola dochreidthe maith mar Joe Heaney!
Gaeltacht & Suffering
I asked what I should talk about and the themes of memory, place, and identity were mentioned. In a great hurry, I jotted down what I could before rushing off to a Celtic retreat where there were music, dance, and language workshops. Here are those rough thoughts.
MEMORIES
The film Song of Granite brought back memories. I felt ancient. Because I understood. Because it was familiar. I saw it in a cinema in Santa Monica. In the darkness, I heard the words of the most moving song and the tears fell. There were no subtitles. What astounded me was that when I looked around was that other people were crying too even though they didn’t understand the words.
TIME l often hear people describing Irish an ancient language and I cringe. It is ancient and we should be proud of that. But that is often said to dismiss it as if it has no relevance to the modern world. Song of Granite made me feel ancient. The film felt like it must have been about a time long before I was born. Still, for a time, I lived this life.
Back in 1973, in the middle of winter, I spent three months as an 11-year-old on a Gael-Linn scholarship. Going from Mullingar in the center of Ireland to Leitir Móir back in 1973 was like stepping into the history books. I landed in one of the most westerly regions of The Gaeltacht (the Irish-speaking region).
When Song of Granite showed the young boy walking across the rocks in a long shot, I knew how he felt. I had walked landscapes like this. I had seen women in clothes that should only have been in the history books but I saw them with my own eyes. It shouldn’t have been. I’m not old enough. I saw old women by the bridge to Leitir Mealláin dressed in black with big hoods around their heads. The memory stayed with me because the brakes had failed on the bus and we went past the church to where the women were before stopping. They seemed like they were from an older time.
Back then, I would bring a sod of turf for the fireplace when I went to school in Leitir Móir. Something that never happened in Mullingar. There were no fireplaces in classrooms and students were not required to bring a sod of turf in with them. The schoolhouse in Leitir Móir was full of life and mischief back then. The local children pestered me with questions because they wanted to know about my world because I was from a different world. When I went home, I was part of two worlds.
I am part of this world of Song of Granite. Part of me then and part of me now. There is a lot of parting going on. In the cinema, part of me felt connected on a deep level and part of me resented being made to feel so old. It messed up my sense of time and place. Joe Heaney had a lot of parting going on in his life too. It is the way of the west: to emigrate. It is the way of Ireland now. His roots were deep but he kept on moving: a walking, singing contradiction.
2. PLACE Song of Granite starts in the Gaeltacht, an Irish-Speaking region. Even in this example I give you of what it is, there is treachery. It suggests that no one else in Ireland speaks Ireland except in the most remote places. We were told that is what it is and we repeat that definition, that limitation of who we can be.
The Gaeltacht still needs to be understood and protected even as we realize it should never have been used to separate people by language. It is a form of Apartheid, often by very well-meaning people. Others are just more comfortable that Irish speakers are kept away in the west and don’t offend their ears in civilized parts of the country.
Some scenes in Song of Granite reminded me of a dark short film about boys drowning: An t-Ádh directed by Colm Bairéad https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgBPdWI8suA It is 21 minutes long if you wait for the song during the credits. And you should. It’s a lament. Bertie O Domhnaill sings the song at the end. Amhrán Maoinis. We have much to lament. Songs where the people in the song know they are going to die pack a punch. Even more so, if they tell their wishes in a matter of fact manner. An t-Ádh is a reworking of a classic tale by Pádraic O Conaire. Children playing on bare broken concrete in an abandoned school reminded me of clips I had seen of reservations for indigenous peoples here in the US. The boys in the short film have the most beautiful, musical Irish. It’s their language and it is alive. Very little else around them is.
They are in the designated area called the Gaeltacht. It exists to protect them and their language. This is how the Gaeltacht is explained. Part of it is real and well-meaning. You have to wonder, though; why does the place where the children play look so abandoned? Why do they play on deserted land, on broken concrete? People will claim it is all for good and there is some truth to that but it reminded me of the message of the movie Song of the Sea where Granny keeps telling the children that they must deal with suffering because it is for their own good and she reminds them, “I know what’s best for you!” The government has often failed to do the right thing for the language and the people of the Gaeltacht.
We should not forget the desire to drive the Irish “to hell or to Connaught.’ Our enemies wanted to kill our people and our language by sending people there. We should not be guilty of doing the same thing while saying we have good intentions in doing so. Our ancestors were driven to the harshest land to separate them from the richer people. To divide and conquer. When I arrived there as an 11-year-old, I saw children dying to escape from their restricted zone. They wanted a better life. We can have that. The definition of a Gaeltacht is changing. We are creating our own Irish-speaking spaces by overcoming shame. It is happening.
ARCHIVE: The Gaeltacht region is remote. Beautiful but remote. Some say there is not one Gaeltacht; there are many. I say the whole country is a Gaeltacht that has a muffle of shame. The separation to protect the language is not working. We must protect the people who have been cast aside or deprived. Ensure they have employment with the language. We must record the words and cadences of Gaeltacht speakers. Record audiobooks to ensure the music of the language is not lost. The locals get jobs and we get audiobooks so as to pass it on to future generations. Universities must do this. Archive it. Make it public. Sell it to those who can afford it. Give it away to the rest. It is urgent to do this.
3. IDENTITY and SHAME
It can be difficult to understand why people would not respect their own beautiful language but in that game of deception that is imperialism, those to be conquered are defined as in need of civilization to justify barbaric actions. To accept the false narrative is to become part of the process of killing off a culture and a language. It is not right to call this post-colonial inheritance because the colonial mentality has been planted in our heads. It is still there. It is a colony in our heads. It is difficult to shake free of the sense of shame that was passed down from generation to generation.
We try to make the whole country a Gaeltacht again. Online, it’s easy enough. Sometimes not. In 2016 I signed up for a course with Trinity College online to learn about the history of the 1916 rebellion. I posted some comments in Irish. This wasn’t allowed, I was informed, as some people couldn’t understand them. I suggested I translate them to English and post both versions thinking people would appreciate this. It wasn’t allowed. It turns out the course was run from England and the person who had to monitor comments probably was worried that I might be a terrorist saying awful things in another language. There is irony in the fact that I did a course on the 1916 fight for freedom hosted by an Irish university where English only was allowed.
In the north of the country, it can be much worse. When I started driving, I had stickers on my car that said: Scrios bóithre Chonamara an carr seo (Connemara roads wrecked this car) and Fág an Bealach (Clear the way). Because of that, I would never dare to drive across the border. The stickers would mark me as a probable terrorist to soldiers at the border and in the north. That’s how they saw us. How some still see us.
Lately, Queen’s University Belfast was in the news for not allowing signs in Irish on their campus. When these things happen we learn it is not just that we are not allowed to use our language in many places, but that people see it as threatening, offensive, and unworthy. That shames us.
As we try to use our language in everyday life, we are banned or prevented from using it again and again. We feel ashamed to speak in case we might start trouble when they have to tell us we are not allowed to speak. All this was not only allowed but is still VERY much alive. Our politicians do not speak Irish in government. They should.
We cannot be separated anymore. Irish words come flooding in my head to try to explain was I feel about the Gaeltacht: Uaigneas, Lom, Tréigthe, Caite Amach, Tost. Loneliness, Bare, Abandoned, Thrown out, Silence. There’s a lot of silence in Song of Granite. Silence between the notes, between the words, between the elements of the story. Gaps in the history of who we are. We know something is wrong with that. Irish speakers need to be accepted and part of Ireland. Our signs should not have Irish bent over in italics. We are not less and we should not be cowed. We need the same opportunities and Internet access as anywhere else. We need respect for our language from the politicians down. Speaking it.
I recently went home to my Father’s funeral. At the removal of remains (not a very poetic description), a nun who had taught me asked me if I was still using music in my life. Did I have a job in the area of music? I told her, in sight of my father’s open coffin, that I was involved with Irish now. Her eyes opened with shock and she said, with genuine horror: You haven’t gone all Gaelic on us, have you? These are the people who educated us. These are the attitudes they hold. Not all. But enough to do major damage. Most students are led to believe Irish is something you have to study but it’s really worthless. They teach disrespect and resentment. Not all, but enough to do major damage. We must change this. It is a mindset. It is shame.
Seosamh Ó hÉanaí
15 Oct 1919 Carna, Connemara – 1 May 1984 Seattle Washington. He went from Ireland to England, Scotland and the US (including New York & Seattle).
He recorded hundreds of songs. His repertoire: over 500 songs. He starting singing at 5 and singing in public at 20.
1949: Worked on building sites in London & recorded for Topic & Gael-Linn. He was married for 6 years. His wife died of TB.
1959: RTÉ & BBC recorded him.
1965: He went to Newport folk Festival, moved to US, settled in New York. He taught at Wesleyan University in Middleton, Connecticut.
1982 – 1984 Artist-in-Residence at the Universiy of Washington in Seattle.
1984: The Joe Heaney Collection of the University of Washington Ethnomusicology Archives
There is an annual festival in Carna: Féile Chomórtha Joe Éinniú
2011: Sean Williams & Lillis O Laoire Bright Star of the West: Joe Heaney, Irish Song-Man.
2017 Song of Granite, Pat Collins
Críochnaigh mé le caint faoi Chomhaltas agus Conradh na Gaeilge i gCathair na nAingeal. Bhí suim ag bean faoi leith sa cheangail le ceol na ndúchasach i SAM. Mór an trua nach raibh níos mó ama agam leo ach mór an onóir bheith ann.
Ghoid an Eaglais páistí agus dhíol siad iad. In Éirinn. Chuidigh an rialtas leo. Sin Dialathas. Ní dheachaigh éinne go príosún faoi.
D’iarr an t-uachtarán ar na Magdalenes maithiúnas a bheith acu agus gan bheith searbh. De ghnáth bíonn ardmheas agam ar Micheal D. ACH seo botún OLLMHÓR. Ar scríobh tú fhéin seo, a Uachtaráin? Ar scríobh duine éigin eile duit é?
Agus na gardaí i ndhá líne ag fanacht le fáilte a chur roimh na Magdalenes? Cé a smaoinigh ar sin? Mar ní raibh duine acu sinn i bpríosún as a rinne na gardaí dóibh. ACH bhí na mná i bpríosún i bhfad is go deo sa chaoi nach bhfuil éalú riamh ón gcéasadh sin.
Maithiúnas? MAITHIÚNAS? Agus muid fós an troid in aghaidh na hEaglaise lenár gcearta daonna a bhaint amach? Ní dóigh liom é. Agus iad fós ag spoutáil fuath? Is iad fós lán le drochmheas ar mhná is ar dhaoine aerach.
FREAGRACHT atá de dhíth. Is cibé a deireann siad faoi mhaithiúnas is trócaire is grá is Dia, tuig go bhfuilimid ag caint faoin dream a scrios an saol do na mílte, mílte in Éirinn le airgead a fháil dóibh féin. Mar atá Trump ag déanamh anois ACH níos measa.
Is FÓS níl éinne i bpríosún faoi.
MAITHIÚNAS?
Sin a mhúin siad dúinn ar scoil. Éigniú na hinchinne ón gcéad lá ar scoil. Meas don Eaglais is na sagairt is easpaig síos an scórnach, beathú iallaithe. Creidim in aon Dia amháin agus an Eaglais uilechumhacht ag rith trínár bhféithe. Gach duine ciontach ach iad. Sin cleas duit!
ACH
TÁ SIAD IOMLÁN CIONTACH agus TÁ SIAD FÓS I gCEANNAS AR OIDEACHAS NA TÍRE.
Ar nós Trump, bréaga ar fad a thagann uathu: is trua linn a tharla. Meas do na páistí.
MAR DHEA
Bhí fuath agus déistin acu ar leanaí & mhná i gcónaí is níl sin athraithe AR CHOR AR BITH. Níl sé athraithe ó am McQuaid. Níos fearr anois, ceapann sibh?
Féach ar a deireann siad thíos go n-íocfaidh siad as an damáiste uafásach a rinne siad: am i bpríosú – am ar bith, fanacht amach ó scoileanna – diabhal seans, airgead – b’fhéidir ach ní mórán. Is breá leo a gCaravaggios ar an mballa, tuigeann sibh.
Íomhá thíos ó Andrew Brennan
Níl maithiúnathas ar bith tuillte acu. Níl croíthe acu. Céasadh le airgead a fháil acu.
Tuaim, Magdalenes, Peidifíligh, Mná díolta, Mná mar sclábhaithe, Páistí goidthe, Páistí díolta. Faisiteachas. Sin atá againn FÓS fhad is atá cumhacht acu, fhad is nach gcuirtear stop leo le freagracht.
Tóg na scoileanna. Linne iad. Caith an Eaglais amach uathu agus bíodh daoine freagrach as a rinne siad.
Seo an Bon Secours (dream an Tuam Babies) le brat na Vatacáine acu ar dhá thaobh in aice le Ollscoil Chorcaigh! Craiceáilte! IOMLÁN craiceáilte! COIR! Ná glac leis níos mó.
Caill an dallamullóg. Bain gach atá acu uathu. Bíodh an tír saor ón damáiste a dhéanann siad. Ar son na tíre. Ar son cothram na féinne. Ar son gach bean is páiste a d’fhulaing, cuir an ruaig orthu.
Muna bhfuil fuath agus déistin ort ar a rinne siad, tú ciontach as ligint dá bhfuath is déistin is faisisteachas leanúint ar aghaidh. Go hifreann le maithiúnas.
Bhíomar ag an aonach: Irish Fair LA don dara bhliain dúinn anois. Chonaiceamar feabhas mór ann i mbliana. Ardmholadh go gach duine a bhí ag obair ann. Laochra sibh! Moladh speisialta do Erin Scott Haines a chuir a croí isteach ann. Déarfainn nach dtarlódh an Aonach gan í.
Bhí ardáthas ar Chonradh na Gaeilge bheith ag cabhrú le Comhaltas i mbliana. Seo Debut Ceol na nAingeal agus beidh Craobh na nAingeal ag obair leo go minic mar sin comhaltas 😉 Ar an ardán acu bhí ranganna Gaeilge agus comórtaisí amhránaíochta, filíochta, agus scéalaíochta.
Le Céilí Rua (maith agaibh Gypsy Ethnic Arts Center as bheith linn), bhí muid ag múineadh Céilí agus Rince Seit. Chomh maith leis sin bhí rince na scuaibe againn. Maith thú Liana. Múinte: Ballaí Luimní, Soláiste na Bealtaine, Rince Mór na Tine, Baint an Fhéir. Le Tim Martin: Corofin Plain Set agus linn féin an Antrim Square Set. Múinte ag Aedan: rince ar an sean nós. Solos den scoth ó David agus Liana. Tá muid ag dul i gcleachtadh leis an stuf seo anois. Chomh bródúil sin as gach a rinne siad ar fad. Bhí na sluaite (idir óg agus aosta) thuas ag damhsa linn ar an stáidse agus d’airdigh sin mo chroí.
Le Joyce agus Maria, bhí Féasta Sráide againn agus d’fhoghlaim daoine conas bia a fháil as Gaeilge agus iad ag foghlaim Led’ thoil agus Go raibh maith agat. Iontach ar fad daoine a chloisteáil in áiteachaí eile ag an Aonach ag baint úsáid as an nGaeilge a d’fhoghlaim siad. Bua! Maith í Joyce a rinne arán agus bunnóga dúinn. Maith iad Sweeneys a thug bunnóga agus arán dúinn freisin.
Míle buíochas le Caoimhe as na leabhair ar fad a fuaireamar ag an deireadh!
Traocha fós inniu ach fíorshásta.
Grianghrafanna ag teacht isteach inniu. Seo tús leo
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, a scríobh Dickens. Seo mar atá sé dúinn in Éirinn anois.
Tosnóimis le ómós.
Leis an vóta Tá, thugamar meas do mhná na hÉirinn. Thugamar meas do na Magdalenes le fáilte iontach agus cóisir leis an Uachtarán. Thugamar ómós do scríbhneoir a scríobh The Handmaid’s Tale atá gar go scéal na Magdalenes. Comhghairdeas le Margaret Atwood a fuair Bonn Ulysses inniu!
GRMA, Ceanada. Is as Ceanada Atwood agus Joni Mitchell. Tuigeann an bheirt acu a dhéanann an Eaglais.
Agus anois t-uafás sna rudaí a tharla sna Magdalenes:
Cúlra don scéal seo de dhíth.
1984: Fuair Ann Lovett bás
1985: Scríobh Atwood The Handmaid’s Tale
1994: Chas Joni Mitchell The Magdalene Laundries
1996: Dúnadh an Magdalene deireanach i bPort Láirge
Spéisiúil gur fear le cumhacht i nGilead (tír the Handmaid’s Tale) é Mr. Waterford.
Tagann scríbhneoir cáiliúil eile isteach sa scéal seo. Sin Dickens. The best of times and the worst of times.
Agus níos faide siar sa stair.
The worst:
Bhunaigh fir gnó an chéad Magdalene (Magdalen) i Londain i 1758. Hospital for the Reception of Penitent Prostitutes a thug siad air. Obair saor in aisce a fuair siad as. Cuireann sin Prisons For Profit SAM i gcuimhne dom. Bhí os cionn 300 acu i Sasana faoi 1845. Dáta suntasach do mhuintir na hÉireann.
The best:
Shocraigh Dickens ar chóras eile a bhunú i 1846 nuair a chonaic sé chomh huafásach is a bhí na Magdalenes.
The worst:
Scríobh Atwood faoi shaol diostóipeach i The Handmaid’s Tale. Sin atá againn ó ghoid an Ardeaspag McQuaid saoirse uainn lena Dialathas. Saol diostóipeach. Cheapamar go raibh saol an-modern go deo againn, seachas iad sna Magdalenes, ach i ndáiríre ní raibh duine ar bith againn saor ó ghreim na hEaglaise.
Na bréaga:
Féach a scríobh beirt faoin McQuaid céanna anseo. Tá duine acu siúd (Fr. Con) san nuacht inniu mar gheall ar a scríobh sé san nuachtán inné, díreach tar éis an ómós do na Magdalenes faighte acu ón Uachtarán agus ón bPríomhchathair:
Sin an Eaglais duit! Ní raibh lucht an Love Both amuigh le fáilte a chur roimh na Magdalenes an tseachtain seo. Ní fáilte ná grá atá acu ach fuath. Fuath ban go háirithe. Ar nós fir Gilead, is breá leo cumhacht agus brabús.
An tUafás:
Seo mar atá saol do mhná is creideamh bunúsach i gceannas i nGilead:
Ofrobert atá ar an mbean ag screadáil thuas. Mar bhain siad a hainm di. Rud a tharla sna Magdalenes. Thug siad d’fhear eile í. Rud a tharla is mná ag fágáil na Magdalenes in Éirinn. Cleas cruálacht ar an lá deireanach i mBaile na gCros. Dúirt siad leis na mná go raibh fir uathu le pósadh sula ngabhaidís amach sa saol arís. Ghlaoigh siad ar fir na háite teacht isteach le breathrú orthu mar a roghnódh feirmeoir beithí ag an mart. Ní bheadh siad saor riamh.
Only in suffering do we find grace, a deir an bhean crúalach a dheineann obair Gilead. Mar an gcéanna le Mother Teresa. Bean chruálach a dhiúltaigh leighis do dhaoine ag fáil bháis mar b’fhearr go mbeidís ag fulaingt, dar léi. Ní hé nach raibh an t-airgead aici. Bhí. Neart airgid. Cuid mhaith aici féin agus go leor do Gilead, gml, don Vatacáin.
An Feall le Bolscaireacht:
Mar an gcéanna leis na mná rialta sna Magdalenes.
An tUafás:
Agus chuile uair a bhaineamar cearta daonna sa tír seo, bhíomar ag troid in aghaidh na hEaglaise.
Ómós:
Is léir gur éirigh linn go leor a bhaint ACH
Uafás:
gan Stát/Eaglais a scaradh is beag brí atá leis. Nuair atá greim ag grúpa ar an dream is soghonta sa tír (óg agus aosta), tá an tír ar fad acu.
Mar sin, tuig nach bhfuil brón ar an Eaglais. Ní hé nach dtuigeann siad a rinne siad: tuigeann siad go maith sin. Sin an jab acu. Ní hiad atá seafóideach (out of tune with modern society mar a deireann daoine i gcónaí). Muid atá craiceáilte a chreideamh go bhfuil maitheas iontu agus go mba chóir ligint dóibh bheith i gceannas ar oideachas. Daoine a dhéarfaidh bréaga go deo lena ngáinneáil ar leanaí a chosaint. Níl AON leithscéal air.
Seo fós atá ar suíomh Credit Union Castlepollard: anseo
Ní fhreagraíonn siad daoine a deireann leo go bhfuil seo iomlán mícheart. Ní míthuiscint atá ann ó Eaglais ghrámhar. Seo fuath. Seo coir. Seo ár naimhde.
Ómós dóibh siúd lán le grá a sheasann an fód in aghaidh na hEaglaise atá lán le fuath FÓS in Éirinn inniu. Ómós dóibh a bhrisfidh an Dialathas. Mar caithfimid. Ómós do mhná na hÉireann le croíthe móra a dhéanann an rud ceart.
Anois, Rialtas? Gardaí? Scoileanna a cheadaíonn iompúchán?
Tóg ar ais ár dtír. Dár bpáistí. Dúinn féin. Don tír.
Deireadh leis an gcóras diostóipeach (Dialathas) againn.
Ba bheag nach ndearna mé dearmad: Ní Fr. Con an t-aon duine le con. An cleas ag an bPápa le slua a bheith aige in Éirinn i mí Lúnasa ná seo . Aithne agam ar dhaoine a chreideann san Eaglais fós in Éirinn. Níl aithne agam ar éinne sa tír agus ní fhéadfainn a shamhlú fiú duine in Éirinn a chreideann i lánloghadh. Sin siombal do bhreabaireacht. Sin masla, ceapadh go smaoinimid go bhfuil rud mar sin ceart agus cóir. Sin uafás.
Ireland’s Call. Sin atá daoine ag iarraidh mar Amhrán Náisiúnta nua. B’fhearr liom féin Amhrán Dóchais.
Glaoch eile atá anseo. Glaoch ar dhaoine in Éirinn an rud ceart a dhéanamh do na Magdalenes. Glaoch an fód a sheasamh ar son saoirse na tíre. Nach dtarlóidh seo arís. Nach mbeidh cumhacht fanta sa tír ag an dream a bhris an saol do na Magdalenes. Céasadh a bhí ann. Ní thuilleann dream mar sin meas ná cumhacht níos mó.
Fan. Feic an náire sin. Ní muidne a rinne é. Níl brón uathu. Tá freagracht uathu. Is sin rud nach bhfuil siad ag fáil.
Le tuiscint, ní thuileann an garda thuas an barróg sin. Dáiríre, ní thuilleann. Is cuma más é do mhac nó do dhearthair nó do chara nó d’athair é. Muna bhfuil sé agus na gardaí eile sa tír amuigh amárach ag treabhadh le na leanaí eile in áiteachaí ar nós Tuaim (is tá neart acu ar fud na tíre) a aimsiú is cás a thabhairt in aghaidh na hEaglaise agus in aghaidh na gardaí iad féin a thabhairt os comhair na cúirte, níl an barróg tuillte.
Agus muid ag caint i ndáiríre freisin, ní thuilleann múinteoir ar bith sa tír barróg uathu muna bhfuil siad sásta an fód a sheasamh le rá leis an Eaglais nach bhfuil fáilte leis an Eaglais againn ina scoileanna níos mó. Dáiríre. Nuair a cheadaíonn sibh don Eaglais dul ar aghaidh i ndiaidh a rinne siad do na Magdalenes, sin masla do na mná seo ar fad. Tuairisc ann inniu le bean acu ag rá nach raibh fonn ar chuid de na Magdalenes teacht ar ais go hÉireann riamh arís. Is tuige? Níl rudaí aithrithe anseo. Tá 90%+ de na scoileanna ag an Eaglais fós. Amárach, seas an fód i do scoil agus abair leo nach bhfuil tú ag múineadh reiligiúin agus nach n-athnaíonn tú údarás ar bith uathu. Má dhéanann tú sin, beidh barróg ó na Magdalenes tuillte agat.
Mar an gcéanna le ospidéil, tithe altranais srl. Caith an Eaglais amach. Feicthe agam an chaoi ina dtóg siad mná ag an séipéal sa teach altranais ina raibh mo Mhaim agus mo Dhaid. Cuid de na mná ann, seans mhaith go raibh siad i Magdalene fadó, agus ag deireadh an saol acu ní raibh éalú fós ó ghreim na hEaglaise. Sibhse ag obair sna háiteachaí sin, bainigí na siombail den Eaglais ón áit. Bíodh sláinte, ní iompúchán ag na daoine ansin.
Glaoch mar sin.
Is iontach an rud ar fad fáilte a chur rompu, le rá leo go bhfuil grá againn dóibh, ACH go dtí go bhfuil Stát & Eaglais scartha againn agus freagracht faigthe as a rinne siad do na Magdalenes, níl rudaí athraithe. Ní leor focail. Cuir an grá ag obair le Éire nua saor ó ghreim na hEaglaise. Seas an fód. Sin grá.
Meáin: is trigger é an Angelus. Faigh réidh leis.
Rialtas: Scar Stát/Eaglais. ANOIS.
Taispeáin grá dóibh sa chaoi is fearr. Le athrú. Le saoirse. Le Daonlathas in áit an diabhal Dialathas atá fós againn.
