Monday, 24 February 2014



Pioneer Northern human rights' lawyer

(First published in Irish Times January 11th 2014)

by Anton McCabe

Eamon McMenamin – born October 8th 1959, died December 22nd 2013

Eamon McMenamin, who has died in his adopted home of Belfast, was a pioneer of civil litigation on human rights issues in the North. In the late 80s and early 90s McMenamin was the specialist lawyer in litigation against the security forces. He secured damages for dozens of plaintiffs injured by plastic bullets. One of his most high-profile cases was that of Sean Downes, an unarmed civilian from Belfast. Television cameras filmed Downes’ death in 1984, at the hands of a policeman who fired a plastic bullet at close range. McMenamin successfully represented the family.

He settled some of the first cases involving victims of collusion, such as persons targeted by Brian Nelson, a British army agent and intelligence chief of the UDA. He won settlements for persons falsely arrested by the security forces. While some of his clients were prominent Republicans, most were ordinary civilians.

The nature of this work placed him under threat. He was a partner in the firm of Madden and Finucane when the UDA murdered Pat Finucane, one of its principals, in February 1989.

Not all his cases were linked to the Troubles. He represented some victims of the 1989 Kegworth air disaster, when 47 passengers were killed in the crash of a London-Belfast plane.

In all he did, McMenamin was driven and perfectionist. He was known to work right through the night on cases. Despite many of his cases being controversial, opposing lawyers respected him. They found him reasonable to work with.

Eamon Patrick McMenamin was born in Dublin in October 1959, second of four children to Paddy McMenamin and his wife Kay (née McKenna), both natives of Co Tyrone. He was educated at the Marian College in Ballsbridge: then, when the family moved to Castlederg, Co Tyrone, at the Christian Brothers’ Grammar School in Omagh. Afterwards he studied law at University College, Dublin.

As well as studying law, he boxed and won an Irish Universities’ championship. He was a useful Gaelic footballer, and moved on to being a referee.

From the late 80s he became a knowledgeable art dealer and collector. Mostly, he collected emerging Northern Irish artists, while dealing in the works of deceased Irish artists.

Pat Finucane’s murder deeply effected McMenamin. Tragically, chronic ill-health forced him to cease work as a solicitor some years ago, when he still had a huge contribution to make.

He is survived by his father Paddy: partner Val (Pattie): children Kathleen, Dermot and Sean: their mother Aileen: sister Bernie: and brothers Brendan and Colm. He was predeceased by his mother, Kay.




Co Armagh woman was leading neuroscientist

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

by Anton McCabe

Marie Filbin – born October 25th 1955, died January 15th 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 20th 1933, died January 30th 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.

Tuesday, 14 January 2014



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

by Anton McCabe

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

Jim Sharkey, who has died in his 100th 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 5th 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.

Monday, 13 January 2014



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.”


Monday, 9 December 2013


The last living link with the Fermanagh Gaeltacht

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

Paddy Flanagan, who has died in his 101st 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)


Friday, 22 November 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