St. Patrick's Day: more than just one big orgy

BY COLLEEN KINDER

EUGENE WONG/YH

Seems like I must have hit the only corner of the country that wasn't feeling the Irish spirit. A recent proclamation of The New York Times—"The Irish are ascendant again"—signals a revival of Irish pride in the U.S. Forty-five million American citizens claim Irish ancestry, and many of their traditions have become the country's, too. A Claddaugh ring turned the right way is the trendiest way to signal your single status, while college kids regularly drop $500 for a dose of their ancestry in the form of those specially tapped Guinness kegs. The fact that my spell check just popped another "n" into that "Guinness" attests to the fact the Irish have a pretty strong foothold in modern American culture.

Nothing displays Irish pride in America more openly and garishly than St. Patrick's Day festivities. Those 45 million Irish-Americans certainly raise their fair share of the 12 million Guinness pints imbibed worldwide on March 17. New York City is home to the largest parade, even bigger than the one in Dublin. More than a million people line the streets of Fifth Avenue, which is painted green for the occasion. Halfway across the country, 40 lbs. of Kelly green dye are poured into the Chicago River. Even New Haven packs Chapel Street from the mall to beyond Miya's with shamrock-sporting locals. It has been said that many Irish turn on the telly to marvel at broadcasts of American parades on the occasion of their national holiday.

Though this country is known for its eagerness to turn the slightest observance into a reason for blaring, hyper-commercialized hedonism, when it comes to this holiday, Americans aren't merely looking for an excuse to cut car prices and get loaded in the middle of March. While I'm sure that green beer is a large part of the allure of St. Patrick's Day, there is also a real sentiment behind the hype. Irish-American pride is a tremendous force and an exuberant spirit that has preserved the nation's culture and religion despite hundreds of years of oppression, prejudice, and poverty.

Just as my Irish grandmother, who was born on St. Patrick's Day, was raised on stories and reminders of English tyranny and oppression, I was brought up hearing about the "No Irish Need Apply" signs that were posted to greet my penniless grandparents upon their arrival in America. Irish immigrants found themselves near the bottom of the ethnic totem pole in this land of promise and were ostracized, along with several other incoming groups, from mainstream American culture. They clung fervently to their ways and each other, sustaining an intense loyalty to the mother country despite the forces battering their self-esteem. Although they would never go back to the even harsher economic conditions of their homeland, the Irish in America believed in their mother country as an untarnishable, almost mythical island and drew strength from this idea through the years.

The unprecedented success this minority soon achieved could only serve to heighten its pride. I finally figured out a few years ago that the females in my Irish family adore JFK for more than just his smashing good looks. Kennedy, who became president without having to change his name or religion, embodied the immigrant's dream—economic success and cultural loyalty.

The tough pride that the Irish once needed to survive has, in better times, turned into a lighthearted celebratory spirit. These days, the Notre Dame football team, even though its fighting leprechaun mascot reflects the negative stereotypes of the past, has amassed a ridiculous following of staunchly loyal fans. My great uncle, for example, has an entire room dedicated to Notre Dame, despite the fact that he was never educated under the golden dome and left Ireland many years ago. When I came to Bulldog Days trying to decide between Notre Dame and Yale, many fellow prefrosh asked "Where's the decision?" Turning down a family dream that had been instilled in me from an early age was quite a difficult decision, and if JFK hadn't paved the way with the whole Harvard thing, I may never have gotten away with it

It's no wonder, considering all this pride, that the St. Patrick's Day parade is such a production. Once mocked by American newspapers in the time of the potato famine with caricatures of drunk monkeys, the parade is now attended by prominent politicians and dignitaries. The appeal of this holiday in America stretches beyond the Emerald Isle because it has become symbolic of the quintessential American dream. Irish and non-Irish alike throw back green beers on this day because we can all relate to the resilient underdog—the feisty leprechaun—who came out on top in the face of adversity. Next year, when someone tells you that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day, believe them, and toast a green beer to Ireland, America, and all of our ancestors that made it and didn't lose themselves along the way. I'll keep working on Naples for the green beer. 

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