A chara, – It was with great joy I read of this year’s Leaving Certificate results in Irish. High grades attained by the majority of those who sat the exams. No criticism of teachers; Peig at rest in her grave.
Then I read John O’Sullivan (August 19th) blaming the much publicised low attainment in maths on an average of three hours a week spent learning “our poor, beautiful, dead language” – the language of my home, the language of my children’s first- and second-level education, the language of my employment, the language of the TV station most watched by me, the language of the two radio stations most listened to by me, the language of two weekly newspapers read by me. My first language. – Is mise,
MUIREANN Ní MHÓRÁIN,
Páirc Stigh Lorgan,
An Charraig Dhubh,
Co Bhaile Átha Cliath.
Madam, – While I understand the need to edit letters, I think it is a bit cheeky to rewrite them. On August 19th you ascribed usage to me that made me cringe and afforded my family a cheap laugh at my expense. I would never use “a chara” and “is mise”. This is civil servants’ patois – a pious and perfunctory nod towards the language. – Yours, etc,
Madam, – Most if not all of this year’s Leaving Cert’s top achievers say they’ll be “doing medicine”. Is this a symptom of the traditional expectation, that the Leaving Cert’s top achievers must “do medicine” because it is the traditional elite choice and that alone is sufficient reason to pursue it? I think it’s a pity that not one of them seems eager to apply their obvious intelligence to interesting career opportunties in areas like bio-physics, marine biology, or oceanography; areas of expertise probably in which there are relatively few world-class home-grown practitioners in Ireland. – Yours, etc,
Madam, – Once again we have disastrous results in mathematics in the Leaving Certificate. If we cannot increase the number failing mathematics, where will we find sufficient innumerate people to run our banks, regulators and political parties? – Yours, etc,