As a child, teen and young adult – I detested everything Irish. The culture, the history, the social life. Reflecting back, it was partly because I was not a native even if I came here at an early age, but also because I accepted the colonial mentality being reproduced in the education system here.
A colonial slave mentality that is hegemonic, that does not teach the pupil to be rebellious, but to be obedient, to be broken in and to turn like a cog.
It was in fact through meeting one Noel Murphy in Cork, reading Connolly and immersing myself in the revolutionary history of the island that resentment turned into something else.
My resentment was for what Ireland had been turned into, rather than what it was, or what it could be. That resentment is now gone and replaced by a most immeasurable feeling, a most limitless desire to see Ireland the Workers Republic envisioned and fought for by Connolly and the Irish Citizens’ Army.
As a member of the Connolly Youth Movement and the Communist Party of Ireland I realised that I’ll leave my island either if I am deported, or in a coffin.