We are living in a profoundly scary and uncertain time for our country. Politics have gone from a mere matter of opinion to a real indicator of morality and ethics. I, like millions of people across the U.S., have been living in fear for my safety and the future of my rights, not only as a woman, but as a first-generation American. I find myself in a similar position to that of my grandparents, Bobby and Rita, who despite all of the hardships, never turned their back on hope.
For the past couple of months it has become commonplace to say “I’m moving to Canada” in ways ranging from joking to completely serious. I am a first–generation American on my mother’s side, and it’s something I’ve always taken pride in. My mother, Bronagh Fleming, moved to Boston from Limerick, Ireland when she was 22, with nothing but a backpack, $700 to her name and not a soul to call a friend. She became the first member of her entire family to live outside of Ireland, with no guarantee that she would even succeed in the U.S. For hundreds of years, the Flemings resided on the island and saw the Emerald Isle through colonialism, independence, war, famine, genocide and severe political unrest. My grandmother, Rita, lost her father in World War II when she was a child, and as an adult witnessed “The Troubles” unfold over the course of thirty years.
The Troubles were a major ethno-national conflict that took place in Northern Ireland from 1968-98; although, some would argue that they’re still going on. It would take days to go over the complexities and pain caused by The Troubles, but in a nutshell, it was a period of political violence between the Protestants, who supported British rule and Catholic nationalists, who wanted to see a unified Ireland. To this day, Northern Ireland remains part of the United Kingdom, and it is still an incredibly sensitive subject for the people of Ireland. My family is from southwest Ireland, so thankfully they were out of harm’s way. But, similar to Americans today, they witnessed violence, division and injustice become permanent fixtures in the country they called home. We all remember where we were when we first heard about the attack on the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021 — for some of us this happened thousands of miles away, but the impact was palpable from coast to coast.
President Donald Trump winning a second term back in November was one of the most devastating moments in recent memory for millions across the country. But let us not forget how hopeful this country felt when Trump got defeated in 2020. I still remember Nov. 7, 2020 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, watching parades of people cheer in the streets, honking their car horns, smiling at each other. And while it is unfortunate that our period of happiness eventually came to an end, it is important to look back at that hope we felt. That hope, while hidden right now, will come back, maybe not today or tomorrow, but we will feel that happiness again.
The Troubles were devastating for Ireland, but they didn’t last forever. On April 10, 1998, the Good Friday Agreement was signed. Margaret Thatcher’s term as prime minister came to a close, and the North has been much safer ever since. So while many of us are scared right now, it’s important to remember that no feeling is final. Nobody would have blamed the Flemings if they chose to flee Ireland during The Troubles, but they held out hope for their country.
Human beings have two responses to fear: fight or flight, and it takes real bravery to stay and fight for what you believe in. During these unprecedented times, let us remember to keep the faith and channel that Fleming resilience in all of us. This too shall pass — let us all have the courage to stay.
