Irish Diaspora material culture

This essay explores the meaning of the quilt in Ireland. It begins with the history of quilting in Ireland, paying particular attention to the occurrence of the quilt as a metaphor in Irish literature. The essay concludes with a description of how the quilt has become a symbol for peace and how the act of quilting has been adopted as a communal response to violence in Northern Ireland.

This chapter examines the evidence for the daily lives of children in Viking and Hiberno-Scandinavian Dublin. Research relating to Hiberno-Scandinavian children in the Irish archaeological record is still in its infancy, but the material from Dublin offers considerable potential (McAlister 2003; 2009). The themes of environment, socialisation and play are discussed in order to explore how children could create their own cultural worlds, which intersected with-but were also distinct from-the adult world (Lillehammer 1989; 2000). The material and cultural world of children can be traced through the study of the nature and distribution of objects that belonged to children, such as toys (Sofaer-Derevenski 1994; Baxter 2005). Toys are given both significance and meaning by the children who play with them, and, as Sally Crawford (2009, 57) has recently argued, 'given that children engaged with material culture in object play, it is imperative to identify their toys in the past if children's culture, and its relationship with adult culture, is to be understood'. Interaction between children and the adult world can also be examined through analysis of artefacts that represent labour production and socialisation. Finally, analysis of the range of artefacts buried with children allows for exploration of the ways in which childhood identity and experience were interrelated with other identities, such as class and gender. 'Finding' children in the archaeological record There is little doubt that traces of the lives of children can be found in the archaeological record, even if our capacity to identify them is, as yet, still somewhat limited. As Mizoguchi (2000, 141) has argued, 'talking about children in the milieu of archaeological discourse is currently as contentious as talking about gender used to be. This is predominantly because children are often deemed to be invisible, or difficult to recognize archaeologically … however it is simply not accurate to state that children cannot be seen in archaeological material'. Nevertheless, childhood is not widely studied by archaeologists (Park 2005, 53). There are a number of reasons why this has come about, but Hirschfeld (2002, 612) has argued that the lack of child-focused scholarship has been the result of a cultural mindset that overestimates the role of adults in cultural learning, and underestimates the contribution of children in cultural reproduction. He also states that there has traditionally been a lack of appreciation of 'the scope and force of children's culture, particularly in shaping adult culture'. Another reason why childhood studies have been sidelined in archaeology is the persistent belief that 'we already understand what childhood is all about' (Park 2005, 54). Park argues that this belief is unfounded: Ethnographic research demonstrates that childhood can be defined differently from culture to culture, and therefore the experience of being a child undoubtedly varies as well. And if synchronic variation is possible, then so of course is variation over time. Hence there is the need for an archaeology of childhood, in which at least one goal should be to explore how and why childhood varied (2005, 54).

One of the changes that compose history is the migration of peoples. The human drama of development of colossal numbers from one geographical area to another, and their first acquaintance with other social and economic backgrounds is a major source of change in the human state. For at least two centuries long before the great stream of the Hungry Forties, Irish immigrants had been making their way to the New World. Yet, the tragedy of the Great Famine is still seen as the greatest turning point of Irish history for the future of Ireland was forever changed by it and its people are still living its wake.
This thesis explores the conception of emigration and how it steadily became “a predominant way of life” in Ireland, so pervasive and integral to Irish life that it had affected the broad context of both Irish and American histories simultaneously. From the post-colonial perspective, my study presents emigration as one of the greatest emotional issues in Irish history, as it tends to have a very negative image especially in the post-Famine era. People are generally seen as involuntary “exiles”, compelled to leave Ireland by “British tyranny” and “landlord oppression” - an idealized Ireland where everyone was happy and gay and where roses grew around the door of the little white-washed cottage.
My study further examines the experiences of the Irish people who immigrated to America as a result of the Potato Famine during the years 1845-1851. Once surviving the journey across the Atlantic, many of the Irish immigrants chose to stay in Eastern cities that had been established for hundred of years. Chapter Two adopts New York City as a place where many groups sought refuge and new opportunities. In so doing, they faced not only the challenge of assimilating into American culture but also overcoming racial prejudice. The determination of the Irish to not only survive the Famine in Ireland, but to succeed in America is the eventual underlying theme of my study.

Anáil an Bhéil Bheo brings together a stimulating range of interdisciplinary essays considering the connections between orality and modern Irish culture. From literature to song, folklore to the visual arts, contributors examine not only the connections between oral and textual traditions in Ireland, but also the theoretical concept of “orality” itself and the corresponding significance of oral texts in Irish society. Featuring work by emerging scholars in the fields of history, literature, folklore, music, women’s studies, film and theatre studies and disciplines contributing to Irish Studies, this multifaceted volume also includes contributions from scholars long engaged with issues of orality such as Gearóid Ó Crualaoich and Henry Glassie.

The stitched and quilted 'intimate textiles' artwork titled Áine was started pre-lockdown in January 2020 on a two-week residency at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre, Ireland. I wrote about the design:

"The spirals come from the Neolithic Tomb of Newgrange in Ireland where the midwinter sun penetrates the seventeen feet long chamber deep into the earth and illuminates a carved stone - this only happens on the winter solstice, and only 12 people are allowed on the site and in the chamber before dawn on 21 December. I was there on the 1996 solstice. I was 'bumped up' the incredibly long list by a lovely civil servant in Dublin who acknowledged that Northern Ireland was edging towards the end of the "Troubles" (in 1998) by telling me that "we need to help our brothers and sisters in the North". And so I got into that chamber long before dawn, and we silently watched a grey finger of light creep into the dark and lengthen until it tickled that inner stone. Spirals are female and zigzags are male. The materials are 'intimate textiles', worn on bodies and then discarded, so corsets, lingerie, nighties, bras, slips, suspenders for stockings, and my pricked finger added a drop of my blood... So, in here are my concerns: women, intimacy, sex, death, birth, Ireland and its conflicts, stains and blood, and of course an under-current of shame which goes alongside all the rest....

This research paper, part of a larger PhD narrative inquiry explores attitudes to, and experiences of, Irish and Scottish Gaelic languages in Aotearoa/New Zealand. It applies Clandinin and Connelly’s three frames: time – past, present and future; place; and the intersection of the personal and the social, to the narratives of eight people with Scottish and Irish backgrounds. Using narrative inquiry and ethnography it presents stories that are resonant rather than generalizable, which illustrate that language is a contingent but still constitutive aspect of identity/ies.

This research paper, part of a larger PhD narrative inquiry explores attitudes to, and experiences of, Irish and Scottish Gaelic languages in Aotearoa/New Zealand. It applies Clandinin and Connelly’s three frames: time – past, present and future; place; and the intersection of the personal and the social, to the narratives of eight people with Scottish and Irish backgrounds. Using narrative inquiry and ethnography it presents stories that are resonant rather than generalizable, which illustrate that language is a contingent but still constitutive aspect of identity/ies.

This research paper, part of a larger PhD narrative inquiry explores attitudes to, and experiences of, Irish and Scottish Gaelic languages in Aotearoa/New Zealand. It applies Clandinin and Connelly’s three frames: time – past, present and future; place; and the intersection of the personal and the social, to the narratives of eight people with Scottish and Irish backgrounds. Using narrative inquiry and ethnography it presents stories that are resonant rather than generalizable, which illustrate that language is a contingent but still constitutive aspect of identity/ies.

Leaving Ireland has been a constant in Irish culture for centuries and in March 2015, the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade published “Global Irish: Ireland’s Diaspora Policy,” the first official state document to recognize the unique relationship Ireland has both with its diaspora and with “people of Irish ancestry living abroad who share its cultural identity and heritage.” Writing for The Irish Times in January 2018, Katie Lynch, an Irish transplant living in New York, said, “The Irish love Ireland, but also love to leave.”

Despite leaving, the Irish have maintained their connections with their homeland, and, in the nineteenth century, this was partly accomplished through exchange of greeting cards and the sending of letters via the packet trade which operated across the Atlantic Ocean. The first commercial Christmas cards can be traced to London in the 1840s, but by 1866, Marcus Ward & Co. of Belfast began lithographing the first Irish-made Christmas cards. Today these cards, designed by some of the most famous illustrators of the nineteenth century, including Walter and Thomas Crane, Hugh Thomson and Kate Greenaway, are found across Ireland and the Irish diaspora. Through examination of Christmas cards by Marcus Ward & Co. sent and received by the Irish in collections in London, Belfast, and New York, this paper will explore the art of staying in touch as an essential part of the process of saying goodbye.