Co Armagh woman was leading neuroscientist

(First published in the Irish Times January 25th 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Marie Filbin – born October 25^th 1955, died January 15^th 2014

The work of Dr Marie Filbin from Lurgan, Co Armagh , who has died after a long illness, is crucial to understanding paralysis due to spinal cord injury and Multiple Sclerosis, and to developing drugs that may someday reverse the conditions.

Filbin spent most of her of career in the United States. At the time of her death, she was distinguished Professor and Director of the Specialized Neuroscience Research Program at Hunter College in the City University of New York. She made several breakthroughs into enabling nerves of the spinal cord to re-grow after injury. Among the honours bestowed on her were being joint winner of the Ameritec Prize for significant accomplishment towards a cure for paralysis: and being inducted into the Researchers’ Hall of Fame of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.

Filbin could have taken a professorship in an elite institution, but was committed to Hunter College and her students. Many came from poor backgrounds, and she helped them improve their lives. She took her research out of the university to speak to spinal injury victims and MS sufferers. .

Filbin always wore her learning lightly. She never lost her accent, moderating it slightly to facilitate communication.

As a person, she was warm. A few years ago she flew family and close friends from Ireland to New York for an extended party. She explained this was because she had never given them a wedding.

Marie Theresa Filbin was born in October 1955 in Lurgan, youngest of three daughters to John Filbin, who owned his family’s old-established bakery, and his wife Maureen (née McWilliams), noted as a lover of opera.

She was educated at Tannaghmore Primary School and St Michael’s Grammar School, Lurgan. Her adolescence coincided with the height of the Troubles. Once an IRA man dragged her to safety from the middle of a gun battle. Such experiences made her decide to leave the North.

She graduated from the University of Bath with a BSc and then Doctorate in biochemistry. At the end of her third year as an undergraduate she showed such promise she was chosen to work in the State Technical Laboratories in Finland, a world leading institution. In 1982 she moved to the US, working first in the University of Maryland, then John Hopkins University

Illness blighted her last few years, leaving her confined to a wheelchair. Committed to her family, she travelled back to Ireland last month for the wedding of her only niece. Unfortunately, she was not to return to New York.

She is survived by her sister Elizabeth; brother-in-law Liam Glover; niece; and five nephews. She was predeceased by her sister Jane

Leading specialist in respiratory medicine

(first published in the Irish Times February 15th 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Roger Clark Lowry - born September 20^th 1933, died January 30^th 2014-02-11

Roger Lowry, who has died after a long illness, was one of the North’s leading specialists in respiratory medicine. For more than a generation he was central to the work of the Chest, Heart and Stroke Association, being Chairman for almost 30 years.

Medicine was not his first calling. He graduated in economics from Queen’s University, Belfast, then worked for a year in his father’s accountancy firm. Accountancy was not for him, though, and he returned to Queen’s to study medicine.

Roger Clark Lowry was born in Belfast in September 1933, third of four sons to Harry Lowry, an accountant, scout for several English First Division football teams, and former manager of Glentoran and Bangor football teams: and his wife Evelyn (née Blair), a primary teacher. The parents raised their sons in an atmosphere of tolerance. Methodism was central to all their lives.

Because of German bomber raids on Belfast, the Lowrys moved to the Co Down countryside, between Killyleagh and Crossgar. There, Lowry attended the tiny Ballytrim Public Elementary School, then Down High School in Downpatrick, before completing secondary education at Campbell College on the family’s return to Belfast.

From those early years, he excelled in cricket, tennis, squash, and golf, even taking up horse-riding for a period. His hand-eye coordination was excellent.

Lowry was also adventurous. While a student he worked as a bell-boy for a summer in a hotel in Alberta, Canada. Afterwards he hitch-hiked over 5,000 kilometres to southern Florida, where a brother was working. He found d the best way to get lifts was to be well-dressed and carry a rolled-up umbrella.

Shortly after qualifying as a doctor, he met and married Joan Smith, a nurse from Monaghan: then undertook postgraduate studies in London and the United States, before setting up home in Newtownards. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Colleges of Physicians of both England and Ireland. He ended a distinguished career as head of the Respiratory Investigation Centre at Belfast City Hospital. Lowry had been a smoker, but grasped the dangers of smoking early in his career. This understanding made him an evangelist for non-smoking, firstly and successfully preaching that gospel to his brothers.

Despite his achievements, he did not take self seriously. Lowry will be remembered as gregarious man. This was despite developing Parkinson’s Disease soon after retiring. At Lowry’s funeral in Knock Methodist Church, his friend Rev David Cooper summed up his life with the line from Seamus Heaney: “Steady under strain and strong through tension.”

He is survived by his wife, Joan: daughter Julie: sons Kevin, Michael, Peter, and Alan: brothers John, Sidney and Eric: and grandchildren.

Derry Labour stalwart dies (first published in Irish Times January 11th 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Jim Sharkey – born March 23^rd 1914, died December 31^st 2013

Jim Sharkey, who has died in his 100^th year, was known in his home city of Derry as a ‘labour man’. He spent much of his life working for an economically just society. He had a horror of sectarianism, from whatever source, and held the vision of working-class people coming together

In the 1960s he was a leading figure in the Derry Labour Party. This was one of the bodies which organised the City’s Civil Rights march on October 5^th 1968: police attacked the march, with revulsion leading Civil Rights to become a mass movement. Sharkey was subsequently active in the Civil Rights Association. In his working life he was an electrician, an active member of the Electrical Trade Union (ETU), and for years an officer of the union’s Derry branch.

Before Derry Labour Party was re-established in 1960s, he had been involved in several ephemeral groups that came together to stand independent labour candidates for the old Stormont parliament.

He was an old-style ‘labour man’. Attending meetings in jacket, shirt and tie, the middle-aged Sharkey was sartorially different to the youthful radicals who flocked into Derry Labour Party in the late 60s – and warmed to his sense of humour and strong principles.

James Joseph Sharkey was born March 1914 in Rossville St, the main artery of Derry’s Catholic quarter, the youngest of six children to James Sharkey, a carter, and his wife Bridget (née Doherty), a seamstress. When he was only a few months old, his father died. His widowed mother then opened a small shop in the house.

He received secondary education at the Christian Brothers’ Technical school, known as ‘The Brow of the Hill’. During World War Two, he served in the Irish Army, stationed mostly in the Dublin area.

Politics and trade unionism were only part of his life. He had a passion for music. His wife, Sibeal, shared that passion, and they passed it on, particularly to their son Fearghal, once lead singer of seminal punk band The Undertones. He had an adventurous spirit. In the late 60s, he took his family on camping trips to France and Spain, when such was uncommon. This culminated in he and Sibeal selling their home and moving to Fuengirola, Spain. There he became unofficial sacristan of the Catholic Church, and facilitating all sorts of activities for the Irish community. After his wife’s death he stayed on, until the family persuaded him to return to Derry.

He is survived by his daughters Ursula and Bridgín: sons Jimmy, Michael, Fearghal and Diarmuid: and by his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He was predeceased by his wife Sibeal and daughter Patricia.

Writer discusses 30th anniversary of seminal modern Irish Language Novel (first published - An tUltach, December 2013)

le hAnton Mac Cába

Tá sé 30 bliain ó phléasc Cuaifeach Mo Londubh Buí isteach ar litríocht na Gaeilge. Léirigh an scríobhneoir, Séamas Mac Annaidh, beocht ar fad nuair a bhuaileamar i gcaifé Rebecca sa Mhargadh Ime ar oileán Inis Ceithleann. Is caifé úr go maith é, ach i gceart-lár láithreach traidisiúnta, mar sin idir scríobhneoir agus caifé cosúil lena gcéile. Bhíomar cúpla céad slat ón dteach inar tógadh Séamas.

Ba díreach i ndiaidh dó pilleadh ar Inis Ceithleann a scríobh sé an Cuaifeach. “Is dócha, i ndiaidh dom bheith ar an Ollscoil i gCuil Raithin, go raibh m’intinn lán de smaointí agus de thuairimí agus lán de litríocht agus den gramadach,” ar seisean. “Agus nuair a tháinig mé arais go hInis Ceithleainn, ní raibh outlet ar bith agam, nó ó tharla go raibh oideachas tríú léibhéal agam, ní raibh móran daoine ann den ghlúin s’agam féin. So bhí mé liom féin ar bhealach, agus bhí an oiread sin den eolas agus den oideachas sin, agus b’éigean dom rud éigean a dhéanamh leis, ag méadú agus ag at istigh i m’intinn, agus i ndeireadh na dála phléasc sé. Tháinig sé amach i rabharta mór amháin.”

Sa leabhar “bhí mé ag éirí míshástacht áirithe a léiriú. Bhí mé bréan den sean-rud Gaelach. Is dócha go n-aithním anois, b’fhéidir nár aithin mé ag an am, an rud a bhí mé ag éirí a léiriú gur teanga nua-aoiseach Eorpach í an Ghaeilge, go mbaineann sí leis an lá atá inniu ann, go dtig léi plé a dhéanamh ar ábhar ar bith. Bíodh sí cian-aosta, níl sí ar bhealach ar bith sean-caite. B’shin an fath go ndeachaigh mé siar chomh fada le h-eipic Gilgamesh, an litríocht is sine, b’fhéidir, i litríocht an Iarthair, agus go ndeachaigh mé chomh fada suas le Comórtas Amhránaíochta na hEurófíse.”

Bhí sé ag éirí an an réimse iomlán sin a chlúdach. Ba trí thaisme a tháinig sé ar eipic Gilagmesh, atá lárnach sa Chuaifeach. Bhí Iráineach ag stopadh in éineacht le Séamas sna hallaí cónaithe ag an Ollscoil. “Bhíodh seisean i gcónaí ag maíomh as traidisiún s’aige féin,” arsa Séamas. “Lá amháin tháinig mé ar cóip dara láimhe, Penguin Classics.” Léigh sé sin, go bhfaca na cosúlachtaí le teanga an Bhíobla agus na béaloideasa. Bhí sé iontach fóirsteanadh don Ghaeilge, nó ann bhí “an t-athrá, freagraí agus ceisteanna.”

Dhiúltaigh an Cuaifeach do chrot traidisiúnta na h-úrscéala Gaeilg, nó “bhí dóigh eile agam le h-amharc ar an saol, níorbh ionann an dearcadh saoil a bhí agam an t-am sin agus an dearcadh atá ag seanduine ar an taobh thiar den Earagal. Bhain mise le saol na hollscoile, le saol na ndéagóirí, agus ní raibh an saol chomh simplí.” Mar sin, sa Chuaifeach, tá ceithre scéal ar shiúil san am céanna, an t-úrscéal ag bogadh ó ceann amháin go ceann eile “mar a dhéanann tú channel surfing ar an teilifís.”

Bhí eolas aige ar oidhreacht liteartha na Gaeilge, nó ar an Ollscoil, rinne sé staidéar ar leithéidí Séamas agus Seosamh Mac Grianna, agus Myles na gCopaleen. Aithníonn sé gur scríobhneoirí fiúntacha iad, ach bhain úsáid as cuid acu chun pastiche a dhéanamh, mar go bhfaca “an taobh greannmhar agus an taobh áiféiseach den saothar sin chomh maith.”

Bhí Séamas ag machnamh tamall ar an Chuaifeach sular thug sé faoi Mí Lúnasa 1982. Shocraigh sé guar ar aon lá amháin a tharlódh. “Roghnaigh mé lá, agus chuaigh mé amach an lá sin, agus bhreac mé síos cuid de na rudaí a tharla, cuid de na daoine a casadh orm, cuid de na smaointí a bhí agam, agus ansin thug mé faoin leabhar,” ar seisean. “An plean a bhí agam cúig leathanach a scríobh san oíche, cúig lá sa tseachtain, ar feadh deich seachtaine.”

Chloígh sé le sin. Ní dheachaigh sé níos faide ná cúig leathanach “fiú má bhí ábhar agam. Bhí sé níos fusa toiseacht an céad lá eile. Ní raibh mé ag toiseacht fuar, mar a deirfeá, bhí sé níos fusa leanúint ar aghaidh leis an scéal, bhí mé i lár an tsrutha.”

I ndiaidh na Nollag, chuaigh sé chuig Lár-Ionad Tyrone Guthrie i gCo Muineachán, go ndearna an t-iomlán a athscríobh. B’shin roimh ré an ríomhaire. Ní raibh síntí fada ar clóscríobhán, mar sin “b’éigean dom seachtain a chaitheamh ag cur na síntí fada isteach. Agus mar a deirim i gcónaí, bhí síntí fada i mo dhinnéar, bhí síntí fada ag léimint thar claí, i mo chodladh. Bhí siad achan áit.”

Bhí an t-ádh ar an Chuaifeach. D’éirigh Pádraig Ó Snodaigh air an lámhscríbhínn a chur chuige, ansin “an rud a tharla gur ghlaoigh sé lá amháin agus mé amuigh, agus an rud a dúirt sé le mó mháthair: ‘Abair le Séamas go raibh a fhoilsitheoir ar an ghuthán’.”

Níor cruthaíodh an scríobhneoir thar oíche. Bhí Séamas ag scríobh ó bhí sé ar an bhunscoil. “Ba ghnáth linn bheith ag scríobh abairtí sa bhunscoil, agus ba ghnáth liomsa na h-abairtí a chur lena gcéile i bhfoirm scéal,” ar seisean. Dhéanadh sé sraith-scéal dhe. Bhíodh comórtas ann gach maidin, eisean agus gasúir eile ag léamh amach a scéalta féin. Choinnigh sé leis an scríobhneoireacht, ainneoin bheith ar mheánscoil “mar nár tugadh móran airde ar an litríocht nó na h-ealaíona. Le fírínne, muna raibh cos maith peile agat, ní raibh móran suime acu ionat.” Choinníodh sé dialann i nGaeilge ann “bíodh is nach raibh mo chuid Gaeilge thar moladh beirte.” Fuair sé spreagadh ar an Ollscoil. Foilsíodh cúpla rud leis ar An t-Ultach agus ar an nuachtán Inniu.

Tá sé riachtanach aige ar fad rud éigean a scríobh gach lá. “Bím go bhfuil ag scríobh liom go rialta, níl oiread sin deifre orm rudaí a chur i gcló,” ar seisean. “Tá fhios agat nuar atá tú i do dhéagóir agus sna fichidí, tá práinn ag baint le h-achan rud, ach anois agus mé méan-aosta, mar a deirfeá, níl oireadh sin deifre orm.” Tosnaíonn sé ag scríobh ar maidin nuair a imíonn a iníon, Raphaelle, ar scoil. Déanann sé cúpla uair a chloig ansin, cúpla uair a chloig eile istoíche.

Mar oileánach de chuid Inis Ceithleainn, roghnaigh sé an Ghaeilge ainneoin gan aon ró-cáil Gaeilge bheith nó ar an bhaile, nó ar an mheánscoil mar a raibh sé. “Is dócha go raibh mé ag éirí bheith réabhlóideach nó conspóideach,” ar seisean. Bhraith sé compórdach sa Ghaeilge. Ba theanga príobháideach dá chuid féin é “ní raibh móran daoine thart anseo go raibh Gaeilge acu, rud a d’fhág go raibh saoirse iomlán agam mo rogha rud a scríobh.”

Bhí Gaeilge sa teaghlach, nó thóg uncail i mBaile Átha Cliath a chlann le Gaeilge. Léim sé isteach sa Ghaeilge in Árann Mór an samhradh i ndiaidh dó an scoil a fhágáil. “Léigh mé cóip de ‘Le Clapsholas’ le Máire,” ar seisean. “B’shin an céad uair go ndearna mé iarracht leabhar Gaeilge a léamh. Agus tá fhios agat féin, taobh istigh de trí nó ceithre bliain, bhí leabhar scríofa agam féin, mar gur tháinig oiread sin de fás agus de bhorradh ar mo chumas Gaeilge taobh istigh de thréimhse gairid. B’fhéidir gurb é an momentum sin a chuidigh liom leis an saothar sin a chur i gcrích – agus b’é Cuaifeach Mo Lon Dubh Buí an toradh a bhí ar sin.”

The last living link with the Fermanagh Gaeltacht

Paddy Flanagan – born February 23^rd 1913, died November 27^th 2013

Paddy Flanagan, who has died in his 101^st year, was the last known link with the Fermanagh Gaeltacht. In every way he was steeped in the traditions of his native West Fermanagh. As a skilled fiddler and accordion player, he was a custodian of its music.

Patrick (Paddy) Flanagan was born in the townland of Scribbagh in February 1913. Scribbagh is in the Cashel area, over 20 miles west of Enniskillen. He was the youngest of five children to Michael Flanagan, a small farmer and road contractor, and his wife Bridget (née Duffy).

Both parents were Irish speakers. His maternal grandmother, Margaret Duffy, lived in a nearby townland, and was known for the richness of her Irish. When he was small, both English and Irish were spoken in his home. He said that, by three or four, he knew more Irish than he ever subsequently learnt. The nearest town was Kiltyclogher in Leitrim, two miles away. There, Irish was regularly heard on fair days.

His home area was one of the Gaeltachtaí stranded in the Northern state after Partition: along with Aghayaran in Tyrone; the Sperrins spanning the Tyrone-Derry Border; the Glens of Antrim and Rathlin Island in Antrim; and a chunk of South Armagh.

All these Gaeltachtaí went into catastrophic decline in the hostile political and social atmosphere of the new Northern state. Flanagan remembered his community ceasing to use Irish in the early 1920s.

He received his education at Cashel Primary School. Afterwards he worked on the family farm till, in his twenties, he moved to Garrison, also in West Fermanagh, and bought another farm. As well as being a farmer he was a musician, who often played at house dances. He was one of those who kept the Fermanagh musical style alive through traditional music’s lean years of the 1940s and 1950s,

He enjoyed playing Gaelic football for teams in Fermanagh and Leitrim till he was 45. Those were times when registration of players was relaxed. He was known to play a match in the afternoon, then cycle to another parish to play another match on another team – sometimes under another name.

Flanagan attributed his longevity to being a lifelong non-smoker and teetotaller. However, advancing age led him to decide to stop driving at 99.

 (This obituary was first published in the Irish Times on December 7th, 2013)

Tyrone woman Leonne Ní Loinsigh Leonne  develops Irish in South Derry

le hAnton Mac Cába

Tá An Carn i ndeisceart Doire ina thionsnamh Gaeilge iontach dúshlánach. Is seo an t-aon pobal taobh amuigh den Ghaeltacht mar a bhfuil níos mó páistí ag fáil bundoideachais trí Gaeilge ná trí Béarla – 112 ag fáil oideachais trí Gaeilge, trí scór trí Béarla.

Tá An Carn suite i mbaile fearann Tír Cathain, cúpla míle siar ó thuaidh ó bhaile Mhachaire Rátha. Má théann tú míle síos taobh-bóthar, tá tú ar an bhealach mór idir Béal Feirste agus Doire. Is ceantar seo mar ar mhair an Ghaeilge isteach sa 20ú Céad. Anois, tá an Ghaeilge mar dhlúth-chuid d’obair forbartha phobail sa cheantar.

Tá Leonne Ní Loinsigh ag croí-lár an tionscnaimh, í ina Oifigeach Forbartha Gaeilge le leath-dosaen bliain. Bhí an tionscnamh ann roimpi, ach í iontach tógtha leis. Ba scór bliain ó shoin a cuireadh tús leis. Ba thréimhse sin mar a raibh meath ar an cheantar. Cuireadh An Carn ar bun leis an phobal a fhorbairt: ach, an mhuintir a rinne, thuig siad go raibh tábhacht leis an ghné cultúrtha.

Is léir gur éirigh go maith leo, nó thug Leonne mé ar thuras timpeall an tsuímh. Tá dhá foirgneamh fairsingeacha ag An Carn féin: ansin an bhunscoil: tá dhá theach féin-fhreastal ann do chuairteoirí. Díreach trasna an bhóthair, tá an naíscoil, maraon le feirm thar 200 acra – gur tearmann dúlra é.

Ba foirgneamh dhá stór ceann acu, an céad uair go raibh mé ann cúpla bliain ó shoin: cuireadh an tríú stór leis ó shoin. Is sa tríú stór sin atá oifig Leonne. Tá níos mó spáis ann do ranganna oíche, idir Gaeilge, ceoil, damhsa, pilate agus eile. Thíos ar léibhéal na talún, tá an siopa – mar a bhfuil oifig an phoist an cheantair. Is cuid de thionscadal gheilleagair shóisialta an siopa, achan sórt nó déanta nó deartha in Éirinn. I measc na n-áiseanna atá ar a chúl, tá leabharlann pobail mar a bhfuil an-chuid leabhair Gaeilge “do foghlaimeoirí, do chainteoirí líofa, chomh maith le do pháistí.”

Is sa bhfoirgneamh eile a thagann an Club Óige lena chéile. Tá seo dá fhorbairt mar aonad ealaíne. Thuas staighre, tá amharclann, agus suíocháin ann do thart ar 200 más gá. Tá stiudeó raidió le forbairt ann, nó fuair An Carn an ceadúnas do raidió pobail an cheantair. Beidh ‘Radio G’ dá chraoladh go dátheangach ón bhfoirgneamh. Leis, tá seomra ealaíne, do dhealbhadóireacht agus mar sin, agus seomra il-mheán.

“An rud atá ar shiúil again ná imeachtaí a chur ar shiúil sa chomhphobal chun tacú leis an chóras Ghaeloideachas atá ar shiúil,” ar sise. “Táimid ag éirí freastal a dhéanamh ar gach léibhéal Gaeilgeora. Na páistí atá ag freastal ar an bhunscoil, táimid ag éirí imeachtaí a chur ar shiúil dóibh lasmuigh den rang, le go mbeadh siad ábalta a gcuid Gaeilge a úsáid, seans acu teacht le céile ar bhonn sóisialta agus caidreamh a fhorbairt. Ar ndóigh, táimid i gcomórtas leis an oiread sin rudaí – cúrsaí teilifíse, an oiread sin rudaí atá ar fáil do pháistí anois tríd an Bhéarla. Mar sin, tá sé tábhachtach an rud atá ar fáil tríd an Ghaeilge go mbeadh sé chomh tarraingteach, go mbeadh sé chomh maith nó níos fearr ná na seirbhísí atá ar fáil tríd an Bhéarla.”

Déanann An Carn a dhícheall freastal a dhéanamh ar riachtanaisí déagóirí chomh maith. “Na céad daoine a tháinig tríd an córas Gaeloideachais, tá siad againn go fóill, agus táimid ag cur oiliúint orthu le go mbeadh siad mar cinnirí ag an chéad glúin eile. Eiseamlairí atá iontu.” Chuaigh an mhuintir seo roinnt bealaí, ó thaobh staidéar agus slí beatha dhe. Dar le Leonne go bhfuil rud a cheanglaíonn lena gcéile iad:  “Na daoine seo, tá siad sásta teacht arais agus tacú le saol na Gaeilge. Tuigeann siad an tábhacht atá le pobal Gaeilge labhartha a chothú, agus tá siad ag éirí bheith páirteach ansin.” Déanann An Carn a dhícheall cuidiú leis an mhuintir óg seo a líon scileanna agus is féidir a fhoghlaim.

I measc na scileanna a múineadh, bhí curachadóireacht. Fágann sin go bhfuil siad ábalta dul amach ar bháid. Is léir gur éirigh go maith leis an chúrsa sin, nó thug Leonne féin faoi. Ba mhaith léi bheith ábalta Duais an Uachtaráin a chur ar fáil.

Míbhuntáiste atá ag an Charn ná nach bhfuil, go dtí seo, meánscoil Gaeilge sa cheantar – cé go bhfuil pleananna ann le ceann a bhunú. “Táimid ag éirí an bearna sin a líonadh agus imeachtaí a chur ar fáil do dhéagóirí,” ar sise. “In ionad Club Óige bheith ann do na déagóirí, thug muid Cumann Eachtraí air. Táimid ag éirí níos mó rudaí a chur ar fáil, rudaí níos tarraingtí, níos dúshlánaí, rudaí nach féidir leo a dhéanamh sa bhaile mór. Is maith leis na déagóirí dul ar na turasanna.”

Tá sé tábhachtach go bhfuil scileanna dá dteagasc don mhuintir óg. Fágann sin seans acu postanna a fháil ag An Carn, nó a leithéidí de thionscnamh in áit éigean eile.

Bíonn, ar ndóigh, cuid mhaith imeachtaí ar an Charn atá dírithe ar an phobal i gcoitinne sa cheantar, agus ní ar lucht na Gaeilge amháin.

“Táimid ag éirí an Ghaeilge a normalú sa mhór-cheantar seo,” ar sise. “Is dócha gur sin an príomh-sprioc atá againn. Beidh daoine ann go deo, agus ní bheidh suim dá laghad acu Gaeilge a fhoghlaim, ach táimid ag éirí go mbeadh siad báúil don teanga.”

Cinnte, tá An Carn ábalta daoine a thabhairt isteach sa Ghaeilge. Sampla maith ná lanúin as Devon, a d’aistrigh isteach sa cheantar. Tá siad anois ag foghlaim Gaeilge, agus ag obair leis an tionscadal ar fhorbairt cúrsaí dúlra.

Ní de bhunadh an cheantair ó dhúchas do Leonne féin. Is as an Ómaigh di. Thaitin an Ghaeilge go mór léi mar ábhar agus í ar Chlochar Loreto, agus í ag smaointiú ag an am “ba mhaith liom an Ghaeilge bheith mar slí beatha agam.” Níorbh eol dí arbh fhéidireacht sin “ach bhí mé ar an scoil nuair a bunaíodh TG4, agus b’ionsparaid mór sin.” D’fhág sin fios aici go dtiocfadh léi níos mó ná múinteoireacht a dhéanamh leis an Ghaeilge. Ní raibh Gaeilge sa teaghlach, ach cuimhne ag a seanmháthair ar chomharsan bheith ag caint Gaeilge agus í ag fás aníos. Bhí Leonne den bharúil gur sin áit éigean i nGaeltacht Dhún na nGall – gur thuig sí gur ceithre nó cúig mhíle taobh amuigh den Ómaigh a tharla.

Tar éis na scoile, chaith sí tamall ina cúntóir ranga sa tsruth Gaeilge i mbunscoil an Ghoirtín: “Eispearachas iontach a bhí ann, ag amharc ar na páistí óga seo ag foghlaim Gaeilge. Bhí easpa muiníne agam as mo chuid Gaeilge. Chuidigh an áit sin liom go mór, nó bhí mé sáite sa teanga.” Bhí uirthi an Ghaeilge “ ar achan uile rud” a fhoghlaim. Leis an mhéadú muiníne, thug sí faoin chéim sa Ghaeilge go páirt-aimseartha le Coláiste Mhic Aoidh. Agus muinín aici as a cuid Gaeilge, chuir sí isteach ar phost faoin Ciste Craoltóireachta Gaeilge, rud a fuair. Chaith sí tamall ag obair leis an stáisiún teilifíse Channel 9 i nDoire, sealanna le comhlachtaí léiriúchain.

Tharla ansin go bhfaca sí an post ar an Charn, gurb ann atá súil aici fanacht tamaill eile, nó cuid mhór le forbairt ann ar fad.

 First published, An tUltach, Samhain 2013

For all the heat generated by the subject, the first scholarly examination of the Irish Language's interaction with Republican politics.

 

le hAnton Mac Cába

Tá cuid mhór cainte – agus conspóide – faoi ról poblachtach ó thuaidh i gcúrsaí Gaeilge. Ainneoin na teasa ar fad a gineadh, is beag solais a caitheadh air – go dtí gur tháinig leabhar Fheargail Mhic Ionnrachtaigh ‘Language, Resistance and Revival: Republican Prisoners and the Irish language in the North of Ireland’.

Ag labhairt leis ar an fón, is léir go bhfuil gafa leis an ábhar. B’obair é, cinnte, ach obair gur bhain sé an-sult as.

Cuireann Feargal síos air féin mar “déantús pearsanta de chuid na hAthbheochána.” Is as ceantar na Carraige Báine in iarthar Bhéil Feirste dó. Bhí cáil forleathan ar a athair, Terry Enright (nach maireann), mar gníomhaí pobail. “Bhí m’athair i géibheann mar imthreorannach, agus d’fhoghlaim sé Gaeilge ann,” arsa Feargal. B’shin ag tús na 70idí.

“Tá mé ar an ghasúr is óige de ceathrar,” arsa Feargal. “Bhí mé ar ‘The Irish School’ mar a tugadh air (Bunscoil Pobail Feirste). Chuaigh mé ar aghaidh go Meánscoil Feirste. Bhí múinteoirí agam a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge i ngéibheann, agus a cháiligh mar mhúinteoirí.”

Agus é ina dhalta, bhí streachailt ar shiúil le go mbeadh aitheantas ón Roinn Oideachais ag Meánscoil Feirste (a bhí ar Choláiste Feirste ag an am). Bhí Feargal mar chuid den streachailt sin. Bhí sé ar thoiscearachtaí a bhuail le státseirbhísígh. Bhí iontas air “chomh binbeach, chomh nimhneach agus a bhí.”

Chuaigh sé ón Meánscoil go hOllscoil na Banríona. B’ann d’eascair an leabhar, mar  mhiontráchtas agus Feargal ag gabháil do MA. Ansin, fuair sé deis an taighde a fhorbairt mar chuid de chéim dochtúireachta. “Is sin an leabhar atá anois ag Pluto,” ar seisean. “Ceann de na rudaí a spreag mé ná nach raibh a leithéidí clóite. Nuair a rinne mé iarracht eolas a fháil, fuair mé amach go raibh neamart déanta. Níor luigh sé leis an dioscúrsa ó lucht acadúil, nó ón Stát.” Thóg sé an scéal ó bhéil na ndaoine a bhí páirteach ann. Is maith leis gur as thráchtas ollscoile a rinneadh an leabhar, nó tugann sin aitheantas don saothar.

B’óna shaothar a tháinig conclúid s’aige: “Bhí sé mar chuid den streachailt ag cimí gur fhoghlaim siad Gaeilge. Taobh amuigh bhí athbheochan.”

Bhí cúpla bonn leis seo. Bhí ról lárnach ag an chóilíneachas sa streachailt, agus “bhí an Ghaeilge mar ghléas dícóilínithe. Ní féidir é a thuiscint gan sin.”

Mar chuid dá thaighde, léigh sé faoi táithí tíortha eile. “Áit ar bith a bhfuil cóilíniú, tá an teanga mar chuid den streachailt,” ar seisean.

B’amhlaidh a bhí an Ghaeilge sna príosúin ó thuaidh sna 20idí, na 40idí, agus na 50idí. “Ní raibh sé riamh chomh mór agus a bhí i ndiaidh na stailceanna ocrais,” arsa Feargal. Ní cúrsaí príosúin amháin a ba chúis, nó bhí ról lárnach ag Gaeltacht Bhothair Seoighe. Ba dhream a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge sna 50idí a bhunaigh “a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge ó daoine a bhí faoi ghlas na daichidí.”

Tharla beart tábhachtach i 1978, nuair a osclaíodh Bunscoil Phobail Feirste do pháistí nár de bhunadh Gaeltachta Bhóthair Seoighe iad. Go dtí sin, cé go raibh an pobal báúil le Gaeltacht Bhóthair Seoighe “ní raibh sé ina chuid den saol acu.”

Ag an am, bhí na céadta ag foghlaim Gaeilge sna H-Blocanna, agus ag léamh saothair Phádraig Mhic Piaráis, agus faoin na streachailtí i Vítnam, in Angóla agus eile.

Ar an droch-uair, níor gan locht é Gaeilge na H-Blocanna “mar go raibh siad ag brath ar na cuinsí ina raibh siad.” Ní raibh ábhar teagaisc ar fáil, mar sin ba dhoiligh leaganacha a dheimhniú. Sna H-Blocanna “b’íde-eolaí tábhachtach é Bobby Sands, a bhí ag tacú le Gaeltacht Bhóthair Seoighe mar éacht.”

Bhí tionchar ar fhorbairt na Gaeilge sa phríosún ar dhaoine ar an taobh amuigh. “Bhí (na cimí) ag foghlaim Gaeilge faoi choinníollacha millteanacha,” arsa Feargal. “Bhí daoine ag cur ceiste - cad chuige nach mbeadh siadsan (ar an taobh amuigh) ábalta sin a dhéanamh?”

Ar an taobh amuigh, bunaíodh naíscoileann i dtús báire, ansin bunscoileanna. Ní i Béal Feirste amháin a tharla an próiséas. Chuir Feargal agallaimh ar dhaoine i nDoire, an Sráth Bán, agus Fear Manach, faoi cúrsaí ansin.

Mar chuid dá thaighde, chuir sé agallamh ar a athair féin, faoina sheal siúd mar imthreorannaí. Bhí cúrsaí difriúil ag an mhuintir a bhí imthreorannaithe: “Ní raibh aon seasmhacht ann. Bhí daoine dá scaoileadh amach an t-am ar fad. Ar an taobh eile, bhí stádas (polaitiúil) acu. Bhí rudaí eile le déanamh acu.” Leis, bhí go leoir imthreorranach nach raibh bainte le h-eagraíocht ar bith.

Bhí, ar ndóigh, cimí daortha ann sna luath-70idí. Bhí stádas acu sna cásanna. Bhí siad seo faoi ghlas ar feadh tréimhse buan, mar sin “bhí siad ábalta an teanga a chur chun cinn ar bhonn níos buaine.”

Rinne cimí éachtanna roimhe ó thaobh na Gaeilge, ar ndóigh. Bhí an Ghaeilge mar theanga labhartha i gcuid den champa sa Churrach sna 40idí: agus i bpríosún Bhóthair Croimghlinne i mBéal Feirste, thart ar leithéidí Tarlach Ó hÚid agus Moscow Jack Brady.

Sna 70idí, bhí tacaíocht níos foirleithne ag an IRA – agus Gaeltacht ar Bhóthar Seoighe. “Ach go b’é gur tharla, ní bheadh aon streachailt sa Cheis Fhada,” dar le Feargal. Tháinig seo ar fad lena chéile, gur fhág daoine spreagtha faoi cheist na féiniúlachta, an Éireannachais, “ar bhealach nach raibh le cúpla glúin.”

Bhunaigh daoine nach raibh i ngéibheann tógraí Gaeilge eile: an nuachtán Lá (gur Lá Nua níos moille é), Raidió Fáilte, agus an Cultúrlann, ach go háirithe.

Thóg sé tamall maith ar Fheargal an t-eolas ar fad atá sa leabhar a chur lena chéile. Rinne sé na céid agallaimh beagnach 10 bliain ó shoin. Rinne sé an dochtúireacht idir 2005 agus 2009. Tá an leabhar bunaithe ar an tráchtas dochtúireachta.

Cúpla bliain tar éis na dochtúireachta, shocraigh sé ar leabhar a fhoilsiú. Chuir sé lena chéile é, istoíche i ndiaidh a chuid oibre le Forbairt Feirste. Chuaigh sé chuig Pluto, nó gur foilsitheoirí polaitiúla iad, cáil idirnáisiúnta orthu. Beidh daoine ábalta teacht ar an leabhar ar fud an domhain. “Cibé brabach, rachaidh sé chuig Taca, an carthanacht Gaelscoile,” arsa Feargal

Is é buncloch an leabhar ná agallaimh le daoine a bhí san IRA (Sealadach) agus iad faoi ghlas. Níl daoine ó na faicsin Poblachtacha eile bainte leis na bunscoileanna nó naíscoileanna. D’imir daoine sna ‘Sticks’ (IRA Oifigiúil) ról faoi ghlas ó thaobh na Gaeilge sna 70idí, ach bhí lá na Sticks thart nuair a tháinig an borradh faoin Ghaeilge.

Sna 70idí, níor chuir an IRA (Sealadach) mórán suime sa Ghaeilge, agus fiú “bhí naimhdeas ann. Tá miotaseolaíocht ann gur tháinig an brú ón dtaobh amuigh. Tharla sé ó na cimí féin. An streachailt sa Cheis a chuir brú ar an ghluaiseacht. Níor chuir an Ghluaiseacht mórán suime sa Ghaeilge go dtí na stailceanna ocrais.”

Feiceann sé fadbhanna arís. Tá daoine a bhí sa streachailt mar chuid den rialtas. Tá cuid eile ar fad mar chuid den athbheochan ar an taobh amuigh. Mar sin, dar le Feargál go bhfuil an Ghaeilge “neamhspléach ar pháirtithe agus eagraíochtaí polaitiúla, bíodh is nach mbeadh sé neamhspléach ar an pholaitíocht.”

‘Language, Resistance and Revival: Republican Prisoners and the Irish Language in the North of Ireland’ le Feargal Mac Ionnrachtaigh. Pluto Press. Ni luaitear praghas.