by Anonymous
My story begins in
1988. The new wave of mass emigration from Ireland in the 1980s was a different
animal altogether. Emigration was most concentrated at two ends of the
class/education/wealth spectrum. Unskilled and semi-skilled workers were still
leaving in droves and I was one of them.
“The world is your oyster”, my mammy said. I
had just been for a second interview as a trainee manager within the hotel
industry and had been successfully. Out of the 350 people from around Ireland
who applied for the job only 35 people were selected and I was one of them. I
couldn’t believe it I had got the job. My whole family were so excited. I was
going to Las Vegas. Although I was very excited myself, I was also a bit
apprehensive as I had never been outside Ireland before and I could sense from
my mam and dad, while they were happy for me they were nervous about the idea
too. But they knew that opportunities like this only came once in a life time.
Not only did I have a very good relationship with my parents but I was also
daddy’s little girl out of the 5 children my daddy doted on me the most.
The day came for me to
set off on my adventure and all my family came to the airport to see me off. I
remember in particular my dad holding me in an embrace so tight I thought I was
going to faint. “You take care now and be safe I love you Catherine”, he
said. My heart was breaking and I cried
tears of joy and sadness.
I arrived in Las Vegas
dumb struck. The place was amazing everywhere was opened 24 hours, nowhere
shut. The strip at night was lit up like a great big disco ball it was
fantastic. After two weeks of orientation and training we were all given our
shifts to work in the Las Vegas Hilton Hotel. I had made a lot of friends and
when we had time off we would go out and about exploring all the different casinos
in Las Vegas. It was all so incredible and wonderful. Life couldn’t have been
better!
Then one night while a
few friends and I were out in a bar having a few drinks and listening to the
band that was playing. I noticed the guy that was playing the saxophone; he was
so handsome all my friends thought so too. We both exchanged glances and before
the end of the night we were laughing and talking about everything and
anything, we hit it off real well his name was Kenny. Life had just got better!
Everything was
fantastic I and Kenny were going strong and I had told my parents about him
too. They were so happy for me especially my daddy and he said that he couldn’t
wait to meet him. My work visa had finished and I had to return home to
Ireland. I was devastated on having to leave Kenny and he felt the same way
too. We decided that we would have a long distance relationship as neither of
us wanted to be without the other. Kenny had promised to come to Ireland to
visit and I had promised that I would also go back to America on holidays.
After lots of tears and
hugs I took out some of the photos I had taken and was showing them to my
family. Then within that one second of having my life complete my whole world
was turned upside down “Jeysus he’s black” my sister shouted. My dad grabbed
the photo and I seen the look of disgust and disappointment in his face as he
inspected it. “No Niger will ever step foot in my home and I will certainly not
allow any daughter of mine to be seen with one” and he stomped out of the room.
Silence fell around the room. My mother asked why I had not told them and I
said that I didn’t think that it was relevant. I loved him no matter of his
colour race or religion. And I was going to continue to be with him
The day came for Kenny
to arrive. I met him at the airport and the love that we had for each other was
even stronger than before. He knew that there was something wrong and asked me
what was bothering me. The gut feeling I had in my stomach was wrenching I felt
like I was going to vomit I broke down in tears “my father is racist” I said. I
had never known this before and I had never even spoken the word before, it was
all too much. “Don’t worry darling we will stay in a hotel”, Kenny said,
because we had decided initially to stay with my parents. When I told my father
he told me that if I stayed with him in the hotel that I was not welcome in
this house again.
Having to choose
between the two men in my life that I loved the most was the most difficult
thing I had to do. I had never thought before now, that love could be so
difficult, hard unfair and racist. I naively thought that love was equal and
just among all.
We spent the next two
weeks in a hotel in Dublin and Kenny did not meet any of my family as my father
had forbidden it. Although I brushed this aside for the sake of Kenny there
were many other incidents that occurred during his visit to Ireland that made
me realise how negative people were on accepting people from other countries,
and cultures into their society.
Besides all the looks
and slide remarks that we got when we were out together it didn’t have any
hindrance on our love for one another. One example of theses was when we were
walking down O’ Connell street and two white Irish lads made a comment, saying”
isn’t your own good enough for you love” my reply was “well not if there like
you ignorant f….”. I was not only shocked at their racist remarks but with my
own reply as I would never have talked in that way to anyone. My blood was
boiling, I was outraged not only because of what the two lads had said but also
because of the feelings I felt towards them I didn’t hate those two lads but I
certainly didn’t like them either. This was not my character I couldn’t
understand it. I’d never had such bad feelings towards anyone in my life
before.
Kenny told me although
he had experienced racism before and the majority of the time it didn’t bother
him he said that he felt like he was living in a time warp and that Ireland had
a long way to go before we could accept that all people are the same no matter
what colour, race or religion they are. That was 25 years ago and although our
relationship ended because we lived so far away from each other, we still
remained friends.
Kenny was the first
black person I had ever met. Back in Ireland in the 1980s if you walked down
O’Connell street and seen a Chinese, Japanese or black person (which was quite
rare) you automatically thought that they were on holidays. Now over 500,000
foreign nationals are calling Ireland home. We have come a long way but we
still have a long way to go. Even though we live in a society were
multiculturalism, globalisation and cultural diversity is more customary, there
will always be those slide remarks, presumptions and in cases violent
behaviours that need to be overcome.
As for my father, he is
now more aware of not how different people are but how different we can be in
realising that we are all the same no matter of race, creed or colour.