Fields of Athenry

It was the last weekend of the 6 Nations and it coincided with St Patrick's Day, so of course my Ireland Jersey came out! The Ireland game was abysmal but the Wales game was beyond comprehension! Just awesome from start to finish - at one point I thought Ceri would fall down on his knees and cry with sheer joy.

St Patrick's Day gives me a lot of mixed feelings, if I'm entirely honest with you! My heritage, roots and culture mean so much to me and I feel that they've shaped my attitude to the world around me. So when St Patrick's Day rolls around and it's celebrated as an International Drinking Day - it irks me.

My mother's family are a middle class, political family and my dad's parents were teachers. We can trace our family tree all the way back to God knows when and there are tens, if not hundreds (!) of relatives now scattered all over the global - connected by a couple of siblings on both sides.
When my parents first moved from Ireland to England, in the late 80s, in search of a better life for us, our phones were tapped - as was common for many Irish immigrants in those days. I was picked on, relentlessly, for being Irish. At times it got pretty violent - I was kicked, pushed, spat at - all sorts. I couldn't understand why people were being so cruel towards me, but as a young kid why would I? It wasn't until I was in my early twenties until I realised the reasons as to why I was a target and, if anything, it made me prouder to be from Ireland.
St Patrick's Day, to me, isn't about drinking - it's about celebrating my culture and all it has afforded me. It's about Soda Bread and Jam, my mum playing the

Bodhran (*not my mum, obviously) when I was little, wearing the itchiest traditional dress!
But I guess one girl can't change the world on that one, right?