New Moon Writing 7: thanksgiving, 2023

The traditional holiday of Thanksgiving Day, most connected with north America, is not officially celebrated in the Republic of Ireland, but as many Irish people have family and friends living in the states, the day is marked and noted on the island of Ireland.  This year, Thanksgiving Day fell on Thursday 24 November, but it will not be remembered as a day of thanks and gratefulness.

Shortly after 1.30pm, on Thursday 24 November, a man in his 50s attacked several people and children, outside Gaelscoil Coláiste Mhuire, which is a city centre primary school.  A five-year-old girl, and the member of staff caring for her, are in a serious condition in hospital, and no doubt this school will never quite be the same.

Later that day, at around 6.00pm, a group of 50 or so anti-immigrant protesters broke through the barriers of the crime scene, which sparked off several hours of unrest, where vehicles were set alight, shops were looted, and Garda were attacked.  The men and boys claimed to be protesting because they heard the knifeman was a foreigner.

I was at the opera. 

I had spent the day at a conference in Dublin Castle.  I had dinner with a friend, and then I enjoyed the performance of Puccini’s La bohème, at the Bord Gáis Energy Theatre.

I lived on Dominick Street, in the north inner city of Dublin, for over 11 years.  9 of those years were wonderful and I found the area to be a vibrant, dynamic part of the urban capital filled with beautiful, strong people.

But in 2021, I felt a change.

My street felt more erratic to me, and I felt less safe.

I complained about the scrambler bikes, because of the dangerous driving which scared me when I was going to the supermarket.  I complained about the children selling drugs; not from a moral point of view, but because this attracted very ill, and desperate addicts to the street at all times of the day and night.  I complained about the rising level of aggression from the gang of young men, who grew in numbers and confidence.  And I complained because I knew that if Dominick Street had been in D4 instead of D1, something would have been done about it.

Yesterday, I went to an event called, “A Thriving Ireland” where Leo Varadkar celebrated the social and economic gains Ireland has made since 1973, and in comparison, to many of its European counterparts. 

Not everyone is thriving.

Those who don’t have money for housing, education, and healthcare because these areas have been wildly commodified in the past 50 years, cannot participate in society in the same way as others.  Single mums, people with care responsibilities and people working on zero-hour contracts, are not thriving economically. Young people omitted from society, are not thriving socially.  Young men with nothing to lose, get involved in gangs, and an underworld and all the while, the rest of the city looks away.

As a migrant, I fear the rise of the far right in Ireland as much as I fear the decrease in economic and social security for sections of our population.  As a working-class woman, I fear the rise of classism and hatred of inner-city depravation as much as I worry about how many of these young men are now headed to overcrowded prisons, where they can improve their craft and knowledge.  As a Dubliner, and proud Irish person, I’m so sad that the north inner city, which is filled with spectacular life, charm, and humour, is neglected, and mistreated so violently.

I feel sadness for the violence that took place outside the primary school.

I feel sadness for the violence that took place, last night.

I feel sadness for the violence against this part of the city.

Thanksgiving Day 2023 will be remembered for violence, hatred, crime and the viciousness of inequality, trauma, and heartbreak, and I feel a little lost just thinking about it.