I recently paid close attention to Twitter as shocking examples of the animosity and discrimination towards the use of An Ghaeilge were posted by Gaeilgeoirí who express themselves daily in what is our single most native expression. Made popular by Ciara Ní É (@MiseCiera) the predominantly English language trend #nílsécgl created plenty of traction among vocal Tweeters, but to English Ireland it came across as a passive aggressive whine generating responses that essentially proved the trend’s point. In be fair though it doesn’t take much these days to garner flippant and negative reactions toward the language’s use, but thanks to it this time I was able to stumble onto a significant insight.
I live in Japan having left Ireland over 13 years ago and only with a recent lengthy journey back did I realise again the reason why I left in the first place. There exists a mindset that lets the majority of people accept subpar or unsatisfactory levels of quality; an all-pervasive “it’ll do” attitude across the island.
Having learnt Japanese while living here, in the very different culture that bore it I saw how native expression reflected the Japanese, their ways and their surroundings. The experience heightened a longtime held discomfort and dissatisfaction I had regarding English and whether it was up to the task of expressing me or that of my culture. Like the Japanese language, English reflects its own concepts and worldview, while not reflecting Ireland’s and its own. I asked myself if I was prepared to live with this? Could I accept this halfway house? Will it do?
I’m of the opinion that if something is not expressing you then it’s misrepresenting you, and as someone who works in the communications and marketing industry, honing the right message, with the right language, the right visuals, and the right experience, the 'it’ll do' approach simply will not do. I’m no longer content to continue representing a colonised mindset, not when we have an existing native language, one that represents an indigenous and independent Irish identity—the same one that we’ve all been led to believe we are a part of.
Not to Learn Irish is to miss the opportunity of understanding what life in this country has meant and could mean in a better future.
—Seamus Heaney
I’ve become very involved with the issue. It’s potentially one of the reasons why I was drawn into graphic design and worked with identity in the first place. Seeing my culture subdued and exchanged for the utterly alien diddly-dee leprechauns, ridiculous green hats, and Arthur Guinness Day lights a fire under you.
The truth of the matter is so glaringly obvious to me now that I’m resolved that Irish language is by far and away the only game in town to truly authentic Irish—Gaelic—expression and representation and thanks to my drive I’ve been learning it for a number of years, still in Japan. It’s tough and slow but I’m determined. You can imagine then, when I saw this article on Medium emphasising obsession as a key for success, I was more than interested.
Learning any language as an adult is a massive investment of both time and money, and like many tasks that require a great deal of effort if you don’t have the drive there is ample space for 'it’ll do' thinking to manifest. It becomes much easier to accept the prevailing belief despite knowing (actually being consciously aware) that high standards requires non-conventional thinking. The piece made me feel grateful for my drive and faith to eventually, some day reach the goal of expressing my true self.
As mentioned in this post of mine recently, ‘it’ll do’ thinking inhibits both excellence and innovation, as people simply accept the easy way out. This is an issue not just behind #nílsécgl but the entire popular mindset in Ireland, so that those who attempt or actually do use the language daily are accused of being entitled, having “notions”, or delusions of grandeur. Sure who’d want their own native form of expression that reflects them, their culture, and their landscape for the last, I dunno, 2,500 years? "You must be a radical! Don’t you know we must all know our place, in this English Ireland!"
Isn’t that what the many cases of #nílsécgl are really saying? When faced with the very use of the language, those in service roles, such as receptionists and taxi drivers, as well as public servants, such as even Gardaí or doctors, are face to face with their own inadequacy. From deep inside them their own insecurities that were neatly packaged away have been all of a sudden challenged. They’d accepted their lot in life and that speaking Hiberno-English—a glorified accent—was good enough. They’d bought into the cycle of nonsense surrounding Irish as a dead language, projecting instead how they would like it to be in order that they be let off the hook: “Sure, what’s the point?” It’s, by far, easier to say they are Irish than to actually prove it and speak the language, such as is the case when they are presented with it. This is cognitive dissonance at work and they begin to lash out in an attempt to reestablish harmony between their conflicting notions that despite not speaking the native language of the land they are just as Irish. How many times have you heard “Speaking Irish doesn’t make you more Irish than me?” Well actually it does. In fact it's the very definition.
I’ve already established how much of an investment adult language learning is, but now add a society-wide 'it’ll do' approach and you have the current milieu that lets the majority of Irish society live content in their fallacy, at least until they are next exposed to Irish language’s use and cast it as far down the rungs of society’s ladder as their own deep psychological insecurities will let them.
The belief that to learn, speak, and live with An Ghaeilge is an impossibility today is a heinous colonising lie, but a convenient one that let’s life in the colony continue. Unfortunately, it’s very existence and active use will continue to remind English Ireland of their own inability to live up to what their inheritance demands—to take responsibility for their identity beyond merely ‘it’ll do’—to live authentically and truly represent what they say in English they are. An Ghaeilge’s existence and use is living proof of their failure at being Irish and this, for many, is plainly too bitter a pill.