I learned early that St Patrick’s Day was all about me, me, me.
As a kid growing up in an Irish family in Chicago, I was told that Lent didn’t apply to me on March 17th. Although I had to go to school, I wasn’t expected to work. Instead, two friends and I carried a record player from classroom to classroom, where we showed off our Irish dancing.
Meanwhile, my Cuban classmate had to make do with wearing a “Kiss me, I’m Irish” hat.
Fair enough, if there’d been a quid pro quo, but his day in the sun never arrived.
Fast forward to Ireland 40-odd years later, and it is still entirely one-sided. The country’s gearing up for its annual St Patrick’s Day swagger, when the rest of the world throws us a party. We lap it up.
Strange, then, that we don’t ever return the favour.
This year, along with the usual parades and parties across the globe, the Taoiseach’s visit to the Oval Office and the shindig for Irish celebrities at the White House, we’ll see some of the world’s cultural icons, such as the Colosseum, lit in green.
The Colosseum? My ancestors were still decorating their homes with the skulls of their enemies when the Romans built the Colosseum.
And now the Colosseum and the London Eye and the Grand Ole Opry and Ljubljana Castle are going green on St Patrick’s Day. Why? Because we Irish are special.
Have you heard the gloating of our politicians? Those in Government have undergone the usual foreign travel epiphany: what looked like shameless junkets when seen in opposition are now revealed to be fantastic marketing opportunities. And no other country has this.
A little preening
Indeed. No harm in a little preening on March 17th. But when do we take our turn to laud the culture and achievements of some other country, just because?
Never. That’s when.
Deep down, we know we’re not special. We’re just a small country that lucked out big-time, probably because long ago Irish emigrants staggered off the coffin ships, seized political power in various US cities and marked St Patrick’s Day as a way of demonstrating their clout.
Whatever. Now that everywhere from Manchester to Mumbai is in on St Patrick’s Day, it’s time we reciprocated.
Sure, some foreign holidays do get a nod. We don’t live in a dictatorship after all, so you can throw a party whenever you want.
The American embassy will probably barbecue a few burgers on the Fourth of July, and French restaurants might feature a special menu on Bastille Day.
If people want to break out the red wine to celebrate Italian Unification Day, we’re not going to stop them.
Nominate a country
But it’s not the same as putting our hands in our pockets ourselves, though, is it? Let’s nominate a country we admire and make one of their festivals our own, in a spirit of generosity and fair play. Now, who should be on the short list?
Greece. The Greeks need a friend in Europe, and after Michael Noonan’s ill-informed sneer that their only export is feta cheese, we owe them. We could revel in the many, many Greek exports – comedy, drama, rational thought and the rule of law. It is the rare Irish town that doesn’t run a marathon, half-marathon or mini-marathon these days, and they all come from Greece.
Poland. The 2011 census showed that Poles comprise our biggest minority, and a gesture of appreciation is long overdue toward those who stuck by us during the financial collapse/troika/recession.
We’re a nation of emigrants, they’re a nation of emigrants. We got a raw deal from history, so did they. Plus, some Poles seem to like a drink. Let’s party.
China. Who wouldn’t want in on Chinese New Year? It delivers dragons and great food, and – as all the best holidays do – reunites families.
If we were to start celebrating Chinese New Year now, we’d get on the good side of the rising economic power. Keeping in with the big boys; what could be more Irish than that?
Let’s share the love; we’ve had our fair share and then some. We can do better than me, me, me.