Conference tallis::celt

1113.0. "Hands Across the Border ........." by MACNAS::TJOYCE () Fri Aug 14 1992 04:55

Hands Across the Border

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, ANYWAY?

Prejudice and Politics occupied the minds of teenagers at a
special get-together, Anne Byrne reports:

Stand up all those with blue eyes, now those with brown eyes, with green
eyes. Each group receives a round of applause and looks around to see
who else is standing up.

Stand up all those born in Northern Ireland, then those born in the south.
The game is getting more serious now; but wait - those who have seen
"The Commitments"? Those who love Madonna? Stand up those who have never
been to Northern Ireland; those who crossed the border for the first 
time yesterday.

The teenagers bob up and down, the game switches from fun to intensity,
and all the laughter and action has a very real purpose. It is intended
to help them to stand up for who they are and what they are. "It's all
right to a loyalist from Shankill, a Catholic from Springfield,
a southerner from Central Dublin or Mayo" says Patricia, the British
group facilitator.

The 30 teenagers aged between 16 and 18, have come together to spend
a week at Tullow, Co. Carlow, with nine facilitators, or group leaders.
The project is one of five youth encounters run by Co-operation North,
the organisation set up in 1979 with the aim of reducing prejudice
by discussion, by participation and simply by meeting the other side.

Eddie lives on the the same road in Springfield as Darrin but is 
divided from him by the "peaceline" as effectively as east and west
Berliners were divided by the Berlin wall. Both agreed they would
not be able to meet and talk back home. They exchanged views on the
recent shooting of Gerard McKenna, with Eddie saying it was 
totally random and Darrin insisting he was on a list of "provos".

The political process held no interest for Eddie, who said he did
not understand the Northern Ireland talks. "My Da listens to them.
I don't think anything is going to come out of them. It didn't before.
Why should it now?"

In contrast, Darrin knew what was taking place politically and thought
a unionist/ nationalist government would "be better than it is now -
the killing." Miriam from the south said she knew the talks were
taking place but "they're keeping the information back from us".

But the harsh reality of everyday life in the troubled areas of the
North was evident as Eddie described the fear of being home alone
since the McKenna shooting. He did take comfort that the Housing
Executive were going to put up heavy doors with drop bars in the 
houses on his road, so the doors could no longer be battered
down with sledgehammers. Some of the teenagers had guns held to
their heads. 

I asked how they felt about the week's biggest news from the North,
the proscription of the UDA. Eddie, from Springfield, did not
want to talk about it. Miriam said she thought it was right.
"They're both the same - the UDA and the IRA."

The ban seemed to have upset Darrin, who said it was a legal
organisation; he knew a lot of people in it, and felt they would
now be arrested. "They can't leave, can't get out; the only way
to leave is after being in prison for 25 years."

The young men and women arrived on Saturday. The northerners were
herded downstairs and the southerners upstairs. Each group was
asked to decide on a message for the other group. The message
from the northerners is: Don't rely on secondhand information;
it's not as bad as it's reported; it's a nice tourist place, and
drink is cheap.

The reciprocal message from the south is: We love the accent;
we come in peace; we're normal; we're human; we think we're
not prejudiced; we won't tell any Paisley jokes if you promise
not to tell any Kerryman jokes; McCullough should have won;
we're here for the craic.

The messages, written in bold green marker on large sheets of
paper, are stuck up on the walls of the somewhat incongrous
room where the workshops took place.

Two upright pianos and two large wooden cabinets are the only
permanent furniture. Hundreds of books, covered in brown
paper, jostle wach other within the confines of the cabinets:
"Saint Therese of Lisieux" and "Holy Wisdom" and "The Nun: Her
Character and Work". The windows look out on a statue of the
virgin Mary. A very Catholic atmosphere, where some of the
Protestants say they feel uncomfortable; others refused to 
be intimidated and crowned the virgin with a hat.

The long wall has become a message board. The initial messages
are joined by 30 sheets of paper with squares ruled on them,
and each square contains a sentence. They range from "has a dog,
lives in Belfast, is wearing runners" to "had cornflakes for
breakfast, is unemployed". One of Saturday's games was to fill
in the squares with the correct name.

Another workshop began with each teenager being assigned a
fruit: apple, orange, kiwi and grape. Calling the name of a
fruit and playing a game of boisterous musical chairs meant
groups no longer sat apart; the self-described Shankill 
"meeting", a group of three young men, were now sitting 
beside Catholics from north and south.

Following the introduction of the theme - "I am myself" -
it was time for a little amateur drama. Una, a facilitator
from Derry, divided the group into five smaller ones and
asked each to start its drama with the question "Who do
you think you are anyway?" The resulting dramas, while
self-conscious, were unamimously aggressive or mock-aggressive:
"Who are you? Are you Catholics or Protestants? What are 
you going to do about it?"

The reasons for attending the week's workshops varied. Miriam
from Mayo said she wanted to see Catholics and Protestants
getting on. She had never crossed the border and thought it
it sounded "a lot worse with Catholics and Protestants not
being able to talk to each other."

Eddie from Springfield wanted to meet more Protestants as he
had a Protestant girlfriend whose family's attitude was "we didn't
bring you up to go out with a Catholic." And Darrin, along
with friends Billy and Brian from Shankill, came for a
laugh.

(Irish Times, 13/8/92)
    

    Cooperation North have always used that terminology - Northerners and
    Southerners and it annoys the hell out of me. I'm very careful when
    asked am I from the south of Ireland to say, "No, I'm from the west".
    This North South thing is intself divisive as far as I'm concerned, as
    it polarises the situation. 
    
    I reminds of a story about the maracycle (a fundraising sponsored
    cycle). About 7,000 people do the 200 mile cycle in two days. On the
    first day everyone from the Republic (about 3,500 "southerners") cycles
    from Dublin to Belfast. The next day all 7,000 "Northerners" and
    "Southerners" cycle back to Dublin. On the third day the "Northerners
    cycle back to Belfast. The year after, the roles are reversed in that
    the "Southerners" cycle to Belfast by themselves. 
    
    Anyway, all the "southerners" were lined up to cycle back to Dublin by
    themselves one year. This Northern gent was there with a microphone to
    cheer them on and encourage them. They were letting people off in
    groups of 20. He asked "Is there anyone here from Munster?". Big cheer
    from the Cork and Kerry crowd. "Anyone here from Connaught?".
    "Yeeeeeaaah!" says the Connaught crowd. "Anyone here from Leinster?"
    the biggest cheer of the morning goes up. With a laugh he says "Anyone
    here from Ulster" not expecting any answer. Small cheer from a handful. 
    This gent assumes these guys are joking and says "Are yous going for a 
    second trip to Dublin, then". "THERES MORE THAN SIX COUNTIES IN ULSTER"
    says one irate Donegaler. The guy didn't make the same mistake the year
    after. 
    
				Daith�

    
    
    re: .1
    
    Daith�: That's a MIGHTY node name you've got there !!!	:-)
    
    
    
    
    keVin

I wonder how our Northern Loyalist visitors felt about the large statue of
Fr John Murphy in ths square in that town.

And did anyone explain why his hands were the way they were.

Mbr