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March 17, 2004
St. Patrick's Day
First I'll get my negativity out of the way. Then I'll sing the praises of St. Patrick himself.
My negativity is rooted in my adolescence, a time during which I was (surprise) particularly full of myself and determined to be superior to the masses. I attended a Catholic high school whose mascot or totem or whatever was the "Fighting Irish," and the big, big fundraiser every year was the St. Patrick's Day Card Party, a drinking, (I think) smoking and gambling for which we were all required to sell many tickets and work, etc. This, of course, invariable took place during Lent, and since, besides being full of myself, I was also rather sanctimonious (my old classmates who lurk here are probably enjoying this mightily!), so the fact of this spectacle being held during Lent really offended my sensibilities on that score.
There was a bit of ethnic tension in there, as well. I'm half English/Scotch/Irish mix and half French-Canadian. The French Canadian was, of course, much more singular in my thinking, especially since I had contact with actual French-speaking relations and so on. So that gave me another reason to deeply resent everyone running around telling me I was supposed to be Irish for a day or a week or whatever. Mix that with the French-Canadian Jansenism, and you've got the recipe for a snide little girl hating St. Patrick's Day and its associated non-ascetic revels down in Knoxville, Tennessee.
And I may be mostly over that, but I still get irked by the lifting of abstinence, all for the sake of corned beef.
Posted by Amy Welborn | Permalink
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Being of Irish (maternal) and Swabian (paternal) ancestry, St. Patrick's was not a huge event in my childhood. My maternal grandmother was raised in the 1890s in the center of county Leitrim, as poor and desolate a spot as one might imagine (I've been to the ruins of her family's cottage), and she did not shed a tear about leaving her family in Ireland before WW1 and did not get misty-eyed remembering it. It was poor and hard and something to be glad to be gotten away from in her book (and her much-younger sister, who eventually followed in her footsteps, seemed to agree). Having seen it in the late 1980s, I recall feeling "well good for you, Grandma, God bless you, you made it out of here". (I, however, could get quite misty-eyed remembering the beauty of county Mayo....)
Interestingly, she told me that, growing, the children were warned that if you wore green on St. Patrick's day, the Blessed Mother would have a nosebleed. Maybe that was a way of keeping the peace; there were Protestants in the area, and my grandmother never betrayed much of the stereotypical animosity towards them.
Posted by: Liam at Mar 17, 2004 8:40:32 AM
Happily, not all bishops have gotten into the habit of lifting abstinence when 3/17 falls on a Friday. In fact, last time it did, I believe I recall that Weakland refused to lift abstinence. He noted that St. Patrick would have been in favor of Lenten penance.
Posted by: Kevin Miller at Mar 17, 2004 9:00:26 AM
1. In Boston, where I grew up along the parade route in Southie, Saint Patrick's Day is the patronal feast of the archdiocese, so Lent (and in the old days, Friday) rules never applied.
2. In the Fort Wayne-South Bend diocese, the next ecclesiastical stop in my life, the bishop is also a Bostonian, but I never knew who the patron saint was. If it's Patrick, the rules automatically go off for the feast today, as I understand it.
3. In many circles in Boston there remained a vestige of the old anti-Irish prejudice, against drunken brawling micks determined to overpopulate the world (or at least the city). So I never liked the Notre Dame "Fighting Irish" nickname, and especially disliked the logo of the troll with his fists up in the air.
4. There may have been French-Canadian Jansenism, but isn't Irish Jansenism the world champ?
5. I would never wear green on St. Patrick's Day. Three of my four grandparents were born on the Ould Sod (technically making me a citizen of the Republic of Ireland under current law), and I'm Irish enough not to have to brag about it.
6. Our crock pot at home -- prepared this year by my 1/16 Swiss, 15/16 Irish wife -- has corned beef and cabbage. I grew up with many such Irish dinners. In Irish cooking the story goes that there's just one recipe for everything, with three steps: (1) get pot of water, (2) put food inside, (3) cook until gray. But we don't often have them now, and I must admit I look forward to CB&C each year. And since I am an Irish citizen, in whatever technical sense, my nation's patronal feast is today so the rules for Lent don't apply inside my walls no matter what day the 17th falls on!!
Posted by: RP Burke at Mar 17, 2004 9:01:52 AM
Peace, all.
I had a pastor once who was approach strongly about lifting Friday abstinence. He refused. I asked him what reaction he thought he'd get if he gave the petitioners a choice between abstaining from alcohol or from meat. I think he might be enjoying 17 March 2006.
Posted by: Todd at Mar 17, 2004 10:36:43 AM
Knoxville Tn? I knew it. A southerner! Yesss!
Ok, I am wearing my green and trying to go to the Irish part of my hometown today.
Smile Amy and btw do you have a recipe for Irish Soda Bread? Just wondering ... haha
Happy Day! Enjoy it somehow.
Posted by: Jeanne Stark at Mar 17, 2004 11:41:47 AM
My last name is Murray, but my great-grandfather came from Scotland and converted to Catholicism when he married a farm girl of Alsace-Lorraine immigrants. My ancestry of Catholics is exclusively German. I'm with Amy -- I've had to deal with questions every year why I'm not wearing green. I cannot convince people in this country I have no Irish ancestry because I'm a cradle Catholic. Was tempted to wear orange for many years out of spite. But I think that's a mortal sin for a Catholic :-)
Posted by: Chris at Mar 17, 2004 12:26:44 PM
RP,
Notre Dame did not choose the "Fighting Irish" moniker. It was a derogatory nickname (consistent with the general anti-Catholic bigotry of the day) that happened to stick. I take some pride in it now, because we've had the last laugh in many ways. (And, I have a degree from there . . .)
Posted by: john at Mar 17, 2004 1:36:10 PM
Hmm..."Dubruiel" is French I believe...
Corned beef ought to be considered a penance. Yuck.
Posted by: tso at Mar 17, 2004 1:36:19 PM
For several years I avoided wearing green largely to satisfy a mild nonconformist streak of mine, but I find myself much more bothered by all the folks drinking bad, American beer mixed with green food coloring instead of a nice, quality pint of Guinness.
slainte
Posted by: Matt W. at Mar 17, 2004 1:40:57 PM
Yup, tso, and so is Bergeron, Langlois, Desjardins and all the other names on my mother's side. So between the two of us, you've got one full French-Canadian, half a WASP and half a Pole.
Posted by: amy at Mar 17, 2004 2:51:33 PM
Good confession Amy. If I were a priest I would grant you absolution.
Posted by: Tom Mohan at Mar 17, 2004 3:28:10 PM
Interesting stuff. In my hometown, the Catholics are a tiny minority (and even less in the way of an Irish presence) but we still celebrated St. Pat's with gusto--everyone dressing in green, green beer, and the like. I don't recall anything about corned beef and cabbage while growing up, but we all knew when St. Patrick's Day was coming up.
Posted by: Dale Price at Mar 17, 2004 4:58:08 PM
Why do I wear green on St. Patrick's Day? Because I listen to and play Irish music all year round, and the 17th of March is the one day a year that most everyone else will listen too. I'm proud to be Irish American every day of the year, but on St. Patrick's Day people don't think I'm odd for showing off the culture I was raised in.
Posted by: Jane at Mar 17, 2004 5:42:45 PM
In Scotland, in the 70s at least, St. Patrick's Day just was not the party excuse it is here. When we wanted to be Catholic in public, we had Scotland's greatest football team to support (and the world's bitterest rivalry).
Then when we emigrated, I spent most of my time being mistakenly thought of as Irish (whom Scots generally look down on, though Kaffliks less than proddy-dogs obviously), that I made a point of NOT wearing green on March 17. The green-checkered dress shirt I'm now wearing is pure coincidence (next in my closet and whatnot) and I'm already sick of the St. Paddy's references.
Posted by: Victor Morton at Mar 17, 2004 7:59:40 PM
It was bangers & mash night minus mash for me. Instead of cabbage, I cooked up some fresh collard greems with some Texas Pete and garlic powder mixed into the pot.
I wear some green, but it's a bit difficult to explain to folks that although I am Fr. Shawn O'Neal, the Irish side of my family -- and I don't know how Irish it really is, is almost all completely a Protestant side. Dad formally joined the Church 25 years ago.
Mum's side is Polish, Slovak, and C&E Catholic (except for a faithful handful) from central Pennsylvania.
My Parish Council president here, an elderly "Mickelle" from the Philly area, is astounded that Fr. Shawn O'Neal is not a huge Notre Dame fan from a Notre Dame fan family. I was raised cheering for Razorbacks from my Dad's home state of Arkansas and I went to Appalachian State. The biggest ND fan in my family is a Missionary Baptist cousin living in Arkansas.
I wore my Toronto St. Pats hockey jersey today, as the Maple Leafs were called until 1929.
I get a bit jealous of my Irish pals who can tell me the street where their great-grandparents lived in the old town in Ireland. On both sides, my ancestors are poor farming nomads. But then, why look back at the past to cruel conditions and terrible farming adventures? My family looks ahead with hope with all the other American Mutts.
Posted by: Fr. Shawn O'Neal at Mar 17, 2004 9:20:35 PM
Father's story of "Shawn O'Neal" being Irish but all-Protestant on his father's side reminded me of a story involving American fighter Sean O'Grady (a world champion in the early 80s and of late a color announcer for boxing on USA and Fox).
O'Grady, an American, was coming to Glasgow to challenge Scotland's Jim Watt for the world lightweight title. From his name, some Catholics assumed he was "one of us," and so put some Celtic paraphernalia on him for a photo shoot during the publicity buildup. O'Grady innocently went along, not knowing what the green-and-white hoops stood for in Scottish society, totally unaware of the fact he was playing with fire. Those pictures were slathered over the front pages all week and it was like another Rangers-Celtic game. O'Grady didn't know not only the historic stuff but apparently also not knowing that Watt was a Protestant who had some pretty rabid anti-Catholic fans and (if my memory serves) ties to the Orange Order.
The funniest part of all -- O'Grady was HIMSELF a Protestant, Oklahoma Baptist. But his name was Sean O'Grady, so he was a Catholic for the week of the fight.
Posted by: Victor Morton at Mar 17, 2004 9:34:05 PM
The reason anybody celebrates St. Patrick's Day so heavily and boisterously because it is a symbol of what the Irish overcame. A symbol of becoming and overcoming. A symbol all Catholics could understand because even if we weren't ethnically Irish, they represented our Catholicity. Besides, so many priests and nuns came out of Ireland that they taught us all about their homeland, even as they looked at it from a now safe distance.
When I grew up in the Catholic School system, we looked forward to the free day that the pastor would invariably give us after we presented our song and dance. The Irish music was so nostalgic and haunting and beautiful, I couldn't but help like it. It had such good memories attached to it. Besides, I'm prejudiced because I actually am most Irish on my mother's side since both her grandparents came from Ireland. Her grandfather was a cop in New York who died in the line of duty by being hit over the head with a bottle while he went to a bar to arrest someone.
The Irish couldn't get any other kind of job when they arrived in New York, and so a "cult" was built up to define that what they were allowed to work at was the best they could make it and better than anyone else's job. When a person is down and out as the Irish Catholics were, then they take their jobs and ideas and faith and add a little nostalgia to it, add a little fairy dust and "all's well with the world." The troubles go away and heaven is here on earth for just the little while.
Posted by: Jeanne Schmelzer at Mar 18, 2004 8:39:19 PM
