I moved to Ireland from Iran when I was 12 and it has been home for a long time. But after some 28 years here I’ve never felt more of a sense of belonging than during this pandemic.
My husband and I are taking turns on the Zoom school sessions with our seven-year-old daughter. In fairness, my mum, who moved in with us over the summer, is now shouldering the lion’s share of home schooling. But Irish class has fallen to us. I see the eagerness in my daughter’s eyes as she reads ‘Teidí agus Neilí’ and teaches me what ‘ubh’ and ‘tósta’ and ‘im’ mean. And I find myself desperate to learn Irish. It doesn’t hurt that one of my 19th century academic predecessors at Trinity College Dublin, Mir Aulad Ali, was a staunch supporter of Douglas Hyde and the Gaelic League during the 1890s – there’s a professional obligation too. After fumbling around with websites to help with pronunciation, I decided to ask my 14-year-old nephew, Micheál, to give us a lesson every week. He Zooms in a few days before the Friday quiz and puts us through our paces. When my mother joins the call it becomes an absolutely wonderful riot of Irish, English, and Persian.
Perhaps because of these calls I have been thinking more and more about Irish identity across the generations.
When I first arrived here it was Sister Regis, then in her eighties I suppose, who took the extra time and care to teach me English after school. Now my daughter and nephew are teaching me a new language once again. One of the challenges and joys of being an immigrant is that you are almost always, either out of necessity or opportunity, learning something new. It’s humbling really. For a country so deeply marked by emigration and return I’ve often thought that Ireland’s great warmth and openness must in part be shaped by a basic understanding of this.
St Matthew in the Book of Kells’ Gospel of St Matthew
When my daughter is not on Zoom these days, she’s likely to be up to her elbows in some art or craft. Somewhere along the line we picked up a colouring book that’s full of pictures from Celtic illuminated manuscripts. One of the pages is titled “Portrait of St Matthew. Gospel of St Matthew. Book of Kells.” You can imagine the wealth of frets, knots, and interlacing – just the sort of thing she loves. When she finished that page she showed it off to her granny. In the original manuscript Matthew’s hair is a straw yellow and his face an almost lunar white.
For this Matthew, my daughter had chosen a deep mahogany brown for the hair and done his face and hands in a sort of ashy bronze (probably better approximating, unknowingly, a biographical representation of the Galilean Matthew). My mother, however, always direct, asked her why her Book of Kells Matthew was brown. In response, my daughter held out her own sallow arm and said in so many words: look, this is also the colour of an Irish person. There are few things more beautiful than seeing humanity through the eyes of a child.
Ireland in 2021 is a much more diverse place than it was when I arrived in 1992. I’ve seen this growth in diversity largely welcomed as Ireland continues to be open to learning new things. At the same time I’ve also seen, on the whole, a strong continuity of culture that is similarly to be celebrated.
The endurance of tight community cohesion, surpluses of local trust, and a readiness to embrace equality with unique good humour are all deeply Irish qualities that I have come to love. The preservation of culture and an openness to new people and experiences are not necessarily things in opposition to each other and Ireland’s general and habitual ethic of inclusiveness demonstrates this well.
However, it would be irresponsible not to acknowledge the challenges that Irish identity also faces in a changing world. Institutionalised structures such as Direct Provision disfigure Ireland as a place of welcome. And our openness to others also means a porousness to trends of xenophobia and nationalism that are increasingly pronounced within partner nations and neighbouring states. Even while Ireland tops the EU/OECD charts for reducing educational inequality among children, second-generation immigrants here continue to have trouble achieving good educational outcomes at the same rates as countries such as the UK.
These are all issues that are currently being addressed by the Immigrant Council of Ireland. We will be holding our second Irish National Integration Conference online from today until this Thursday.
This conference will reflect on diversity, integration, and Irish identity through themes such as employment, Black excellence, anti-racism, and leadership.
You are all most welcome to join and more information is available here. I hope to see you there. My family may be a few minutes late though – sure, we’ve got to find some time to teach Múinteoir Micheál his Persian script.
Dr Roja Fazaeli is Assistant Professor in Islamic Civilisations at Trinity College Dublin and Chair of the Immigrant Council of Ireland.