Changing Perspectives

I could not let today go by without a shout out to all of you to wish you a Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

For the first year ever, I am looking forward to St. Patrick’s Day.  To an American it may seem strange that for me, born and raised in Ireland, our national holiday was my least favorite day of the year.  But when I think of St. Patrick’s Day, green is not the color that comes to mind.  It’s blue!  I still remember the blue in my frozen little legs after walking for an hour in a parade, dressed in a flimsy Irish dance costume, through the bitter cold of a March day, and the blue in my hands and face after shivering in the rain waiting for my turn to dance on the makeshift, and now that I think of it, probably not too sturdy stage erected for this auspicious occasion.

When I moved to Chicago, I avoided the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations like the plague, not because of the blue this time (though I know a cold Chicago day could rival a Spring day in Ireland anytime), but because of the green!  Green was everywhere… even the river.  Crazy Americans, I used to think.  How hokey!  And those red wigs and Kelly green scarves and the green beer!  These people don’t know what it is to be Irish!

I was so wrong.

Eight years later, I look back on my perceptions of a Chicago St. Patrick’s Day and realize just how much my perspective has changed.  This year I want to seek out Irish music, watch my two-year-old daughter bopping to an Irish jig, with her African curls bouncing up and down, rivaling the most professional wigs!  I want to eat a traditional Irish breakfast.  I even want to see the river turn green.

Living away from Ireland has made me appreciate how much others have done throughout the centuries to keep that unique heritage alive and, because of them, I can find Irish music and an Irish breakfast, not just on St. Patrick’s Day, but any day of the year.  Okay, in Ireland we never drank green beer, and I think our rivers are mostly brown (with the rain at this time of year), but Americans are celebrating.  They are not just celebrating the Irish.  They are celebrating how people came here in droves in a not-so-fortunate era and rebuilt their lives.  They are celebrating how people survived and adapted and thrived.  They are celebrating that no matter how far away from home, a heritage and culture cannot be forgotten.  Americans have taught me that where you come from matters, no matter how long ago you came.

Eight years ago, I didn’t appreciate that.  But eight years of surviving, adapting, and thriving has made me appreciate not only who I am, but from where we all have come.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!