When I was a fourth grader, my class was learning about cultures. We were each to dress up in ancestral attire and talk about our family’s coming to America story.
I was delighted. I imagined I would wear a crisp, white frock covered in green shamrocks. I saw a wreath of shamrocks and white flowers on my head. I told my parents my costume plan. Their response startled me into reality. It was one of many awakenings to the truth that I’ve had in my lifetime.
They told me to be authentic that I needed to dress like a peasant. My families came over to America to escape the Great Potato Famine. In Ireland, it is more commonly referred to as The Hunger. The country was poor. My families were poor. They risked everything to escape starvation and tyranny for the idea of a better life. Whether they achieved an easier life in a foreign country, I don’t know. Undoubtedly, they paved the way for me to have a better life.
I dressed like a peasant. I still remember the outfit because it so strongly contrasted my plan. I wore this plain white blouse with a muted green wool skirt. Over my head, I wore an aged lace tablecloth. I told my class about the plight of the Irish in coming to America. It was a somber story. I didn’t get to talk about leprechauns or pots of gold.
I self-identify as Irish-American. Everyday, I’m thankful for my Irish heritage and the sacrifices my ancestors made so I would have a better life. On St. Patrick’s Day, I like to gather with friends for craic (translation: good times) to remember. I observe it with a ritual Guinness, cornbeef sandwich and Irish dancing. Erin go Braugh!