IT GOES ON AND ON, AND ON, AND ON…
I’ve been listening to the Thrills, the most recent Irish pop sensation to take on the U.S. I guess it’s only fitting though, that their sound is pure California, influenced by a summer spent in, of all places, San Diego. I suppose they’re the perfect answer to these curious waves of sentimentality I’ve been feeling since leaving Dublin. I kind of knew it would happen eventually, even if I can say that coming back to the United States has been a relief at the day-to-day level.
It’s not that I actually miss Dublin, though I have friends and colleagues there that I hold with immense fondness and respect. Nor do I have any desire to go back other than for visits and for sorting out my dissertation. To tell the truth, I really hated living in Ireland. But, I got a lot out of the experience that I’m grateful for. And now that it’s over, if I had the choice, I would do it all over again, everything. And I have no regrets at all for the painfulness of some of my experiences, but I hope that if I ever find myself in a similar situation that I’ll be better prepared to reach out to people despite their prejudices or ignorance.
For the very first time I feel like I truly understand W.E. Dubois’ “Double Consciousness.” In my own contextually specific way I lived it, being perceived as “Chinese” in Ireland, as hard-working and silent migrant labor to staff the counters of take-aways or corner shops, coming to work on my English and gratefully kowtowing to my hosts. How I resented the heaps of stereotypes the average Irish person piled on me, the lack of respect I sensed for my person, all due to conclusions drawn based on my physical appearance, and the forces of globalization. The bitterness ate away at my heart and nearly consumed me. I’ve had similar fleeting experiences in the U.S., but nothing prepared me for the totalizing effect of having such preconceptions pushed at nearly all facets of my life. My only refuge during that time was my home, the university, and the adventure promised by the greater European region. Without those frequent sojourns to other countries I might have lost sight of myself. Those trips, short, but very frequent, were my lifeline. And of course, without Jonah to share everything with, none of it would have been worth it.
So now I recognize Irish names. All the Irish and Irish-styled pubs on various American streets stand out from other businesses. My ears perk walking through New York City when I hear Irish accents, eyes surreptitiously following the speakers. I get the Irish Diaspora, small towns, and tight informal networks that manage to do big things. My feelings about Ireland are so complicated and twisted up I may never be able to tease them apart.
I do know one thing though. It was all worth something in the end.