St Patrick’s Day
A SPECIAL ARTICLE BY MATTY
<It discourages me that this holiday has been stereotyped as nothing more than an excuse for alcoholics to feed their addiction. An excuse for people to act like pricks for a weekend because the Irish people are stereotyped as a bunch of drunks that dress like leprechauns and wear fake ginger beards. It gets more sickening to me as the years go by.
To me, this day, this weekend, means so much more than alcoholism and people dancing to appease said alcoholics. It’s a celebration of family, of culture, of the Irish spirit. The spirit that sustained Ireland even in its darkest days, that no matter how bad life gets, you still get up every day and bust your ass to live the best life possible, to live the life you want and to enjoy yourself along the way. To be devoted to your community, to do everything with passion, to create opportunities for yourself and others to thrive.
Mary Heneghan was the embodiment of the Irish spirit. An icon in the Irish community of Buffalo, Mary brought the Irish culture into prosperity in South Buffalo, created the Buffalo Irish Center, organized festivals and dance competitions. She was devoted to the community she helped raise, she gave second chances to people who needed them and watched them thrive, such as my good friend Doug Lounsbury. She created a shop with imported Irish goods, she created and sustained an Irish community in Buffalo for over 50 years and it will still be just as strong without her because it’s what she would’ve wanted.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately, they were friends of Mary. Just thinking about what they could’ve seen if they were around today. Nothing brought them greater joy than to see me learning and celebrating their culture, especially my grandmother. I think one of the reasons I’m so reluctant to get a new pair of dance shoes is because the ones I have are the last ones she paid for. They loved nothing more than to watch me dance and entertain as the showman I am. My appreciation of Irish culture comes from them.
In many ways, I think of my grandfather as the embodiment of the perfect man. Equal parts disciplined and kind, responsible yet funny, applied himself in his work but took time for himself and his family. My father always tried to live up to my grandfather and legacy. In a way, so did I. My middle name is George because my grandfather was George Minton. I wear that name as a badge of honor, a remembrance of a man who nobody could say a bad thing about. I realized that I am every bit the man my grandfather was. This realization brought me great joy and understanding.
I ask you all, on this day and the weekend to come, to remember that this holiday isn’t about drinking and being Irish once a year. It’s a celebration of the people who were Irish the whole year round and adopted the culture, tradition and values that still hold true today. People like me who appreciate more than just the shallow gestures of dyeing a river green or wearing a leprechaun outfit. It is said that as long as one person carries on the traditions, the Irish spirit and culture will never die. It seems like I am that person. I shall take it with great care and honor, same as I have my grandfather’s name.
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