This Saint Patrick’s Day, let’s honor all Irish workers who have come to America to seek a better way of life.
I am 6th generation Oakland Irish, and of the second generation to have a college education. My grandfather was a proud blue collar union member who worked in a printing press.
The Kellys came over from Ireland during the peak of the Irish diaspora in the middle of the 19th century.
Oh, like they came here legally.
The Irish used to do all the blue collar jobs. They’d do the stuff that the “natives,” you know, the ones who led millions of indigenous peoples to their deaths, wouldn’t do. And they’d do it for less money, and better, than the Anglos who claimed the Irish were stealing “their” jobs.
Today this tradition continues, but they’re not getting nearly the same amount of press that they did in prior generations (think “No Irish need apply“). I guess they don’t stand out so much.
People always have to blame somebody.
My Grandma Cathy used to tell me stories about the hullaboo that started when my Boppy proposed to her, as she was half Irish Catholic.
Her grandmother was a German mail order bride.
Vivan los inmigrantes.