Irish-American?
If you ever stumble across an article listing what Europeans think is weird about Americans there is always some mention of Americans calling themselves X-American. I’m Italian-American! I’m German-American! “But that was 3 generations ago, you don’t speak the language, and you have no real connection to the modern culture?” We’re the absolute worst on St. Paddy’s Day. “Kiss me, I’m 1/8 Irish on my mom’s side!” We deserve being laughed at.
So, here I am running around Ireland, doing my best to not stick out like a sore thumb, but my American accent gives me away if I say more than a few words. And then I will eventually get asked, “is your family from Ireland?” Truth be told, it is. My father’s family came over during the famine (along with almost 2 million other people.) I don’t recall any Irish customs growing up, although there is a pretty strong alcoholic streak in the family. (I jest) My grandparents weren’t even Catholic! I didn’t grow up in Boston, my Dad’s not a cop or a gangster, and I didn’t grow up dreaming about returning to the motherland. I’m a little apprehensive about being labeled as “one of those Americans.” I’m doing my best to learn more about The Troubles and Travelers. I actually really like Harp on draft and I’m slowly but surely making my way through all of the local whiskeys that I’ve never heard of.
