An elder once described Northern Ireland as the bastard child of England and Ireland- rejected by both. Yet, like many unwanted children she has a unique beauty. In order to grow into every possibility, we first have to own who and where we are. You bring your insights into your new family and help them to negotiate difference and diversity. There is no escaping, just embracing the good and letting go of what hurts. It all goes into making you. I love this piece.
Yes, a unique beauty, that’s true. Perhaps though there’s a step between embracing the good and letting go of the hurt - a step of sitting in the tension and acknowledging the discomfort.
B - this was beautiful, and sad too. My two cents? I don't think it's possible to run away from everything that forges us in the North. It lives within you. But it's possible to need scale to truly make sense of where and what you come from. I felt like that the first time I climbed Thurstaston Hill, here in the Wirral. I did not want to live here. I wanted to return home to Ireland, but my husband wouldn't go. (A running sore). I cried an ocean. But when I climbed the red sandstone hill that day, among the late summer blackberries and the circling sparrow hawks, to see where the Dee meets the Irish Sea, and it was all silver, all running down the sky onto the mudflats, spreading and glistening - I felt part of me melt away too. I got it. Sometimes we need to leave home to understand home. That takes space.
We moved here so I could live beside the sea. Five minutes' walk along a road called The King's Gap takes me to Hoylake beach, a wide expanse of salt marsh and sand. As you pass the houses, you can see the sand piling up along the kerb the closer you get to the beach, the proliferation of sea breeze daisies squeezing out from between the bricks. There is an information board posted next to the railings along the promenade, telling us about the waders that migrate here, the terrain, the tides. Also for whom the road is named - King Billy, who departed from Hoylake, with his 10,000 strong army, for the shores of Carrickfergus on his way to the Battle of the Boyne. I am standing in the footsteps of the king who lit the first flames. I thought I was further away from home than ever here, but you can never really leave the North.
Ciara, thank you for this beautiful response. I was thinking the other day about our undergraduate degree when I took a module on post-colonial literature and was confronted by so many things I hadn’t considered before - do you remember?
I love your two cents. I will be thinking about this a lot. Your sand marsh sounds gorgeous and I wholeheartedly agree about distance providing the space to wrestle with these questions of identity.
Thank you for this Bethany and for your honesty about the shame and embarrassment! I grew up in Belfast and this piece resonated. As a child, my family escaped too on holiday for the twelfth fortnight so I was never at home for what was considered our heritage and some sort of cultural highlight!! I did the same with my kids and we went on holiday at this time to avoid it so it’s not something they’ve ever known nor been remotely touched by. I can remember sometimes driving to the airport the morning after the 1st July parades and being so horrified by the rubbish on the streets and the destruction that had taken place. This year for various reasons we returned from holiday on 11th July and I found myself at home and I had to google why we had bonfires and what the whole thing is all about and question whether anyone actually knows what on earth it is they’re ‘celebrating’! I think there’s something about having a cultural identity you are proud of or feel attached to and I find that is absent for me. I hope you enjoyed Donegal!
I agree, I see it in other cultures and envy it. But it’s complicated! The mass exodus was well intentioned but I’m determined now to look at the things I was taught to turn a blind eye to. Let’s see how that goes!
Yes, I do remember. I remember in particular a conversation with Bruce Stewart, where he said he believed the module seemed to be a vehicle for us to work through our own postcolonial experiences, and hand to God, I didn’t understand what he meant. That’s how far down this goes. He was correct, of course.
"I am a beneficiary of colonialism." - I'll be here for a while...
An elder once described Northern Ireland as the bastard child of England and Ireland- rejected by both. Yet, like many unwanted children she has a unique beauty. In order to grow into every possibility, we first have to own who and where we are. You bring your insights into your new family and help them to negotiate difference and diversity. There is no escaping, just embracing the good and letting go of what hurts. It all goes into making you. I love this piece.
Yes, a unique beauty, that’s true. Perhaps though there’s a step between embracing the good and letting go of the hurt - a step of sitting in the tension and acknowledging the discomfort.
B - this was beautiful, and sad too. My two cents? I don't think it's possible to run away from everything that forges us in the North. It lives within you. But it's possible to need scale to truly make sense of where and what you come from. I felt like that the first time I climbed Thurstaston Hill, here in the Wirral. I did not want to live here. I wanted to return home to Ireland, but my husband wouldn't go. (A running sore). I cried an ocean. But when I climbed the red sandstone hill that day, among the late summer blackberries and the circling sparrow hawks, to see where the Dee meets the Irish Sea, and it was all silver, all running down the sky onto the mudflats, spreading and glistening - I felt part of me melt away too. I got it. Sometimes we need to leave home to understand home. That takes space.
We moved here so I could live beside the sea. Five minutes' walk along a road called The King's Gap takes me to Hoylake beach, a wide expanse of salt marsh and sand. As you pass the houses, you can see the sand piling up along the kerb the closer you get to the beach, the proliferation of sea breeze daisies squeezing out from between the bricks. There is an information board posted next to the railings along the promenade, telling us about the waders that migrate here, the terrain, the tides. Also for whom the road is named - King Billy, who departed from Hoylake, with his 10,000 strong army, for the shores of Carrickfergus on his way to the Battle of the Boyne. I am standing in the footsteps of the king who lit the first flames. I thought I was further away from home than ever here, but you can never really leave the North.
Ciara, thank you for this beautiful response. I was thinking the other day about our undergraduate degree when I took a module on post-colonial literature and was confronted by so many things I hadn’t considered before - do you remember?
I love your two cents. I will be thinking about this a lot. Your sand marsh sounds gorgeous and I wholeheartedly agree about distance providing the space to wrestle with these questions of identity.
King’s Gap - wow. Let’s light new fires 🔥
This was beautiful to read. I think I'll be mulling it over for a while.
Thank you for this Bethany and for your honesty about the shame and embarrassment! I grew up in Belfast and this piece resonated. As a child, my family escaped too on holiday for the twelfth fortnight so I was never at home for what was considered our heritage and some sort of cultural highlight!! I did the same with my kids and we went on holiday at this time to avoid it so it’s not something they’ve ever known nor been remotely touched by. I can remember sometimes driving to the airport the morning after the 1st July parades and being so horrified by the rubbish on the streets and the destruction that had taken place. This year for various reasons we returned from holiday on 11th July and I found myself at home and I had to google why we had bonfires and what the whole thing is all about and question whether anyone actually knows what on earth it is they’re ‘celebrating’! I think there’s something about having a cultural identity you are proud of or feel attached to and I find that is absent for me. I hope you enjoyed Donegal!
I agree, I see it in other cultures and envy it. But it’s complicated! The mass exodus was well intentioned but I’m determined now to look at the things I was taught to turn a blind eye to. Let’s see how that goes!
Beautiful words and imagery x
Yes, I do remember. I remember in particular a conversation with Bruce Stewart, where he said he believed the module seemed to be a vehicle for us to work through our own postcolonial experiences, and hand to God, I didn’t understand what he meant. That’s how far down this goes. He was correct, of course.