I made an extended trip to the US in 2015 and as a result wasn’t around to vote in the general election. I tried to arrange a postal vote or a proxy but despite my best efforts I couldn’t make it work. I still feel guilty about it. I am very aware that people fought and died twice over so that I might have the right to vote. In 1918 privileged women were first given the right to vote but it wasn’t until the 1970s that Catholics in Derry had a fair and equal vote.
I once had to apologise to a friend in London for launching into a detailed account of the recent history of Derry, the civil rights movement and the lack of understanding the average English person has about Northern Ireland. I can’t remember what he said to prompt that response from me – some light-hearted joke, no doubt. When I later apologised he said, “No, I liked it. I didn’t know most of that stuff and I liked that you didn’t sit there and allow us to be ignorant.”
I was surprised when I moved to London by how little my English peers seemed to know or understand about Northern Ireland and its history. When I first met John he didn’t know a lot about it either but he got it very quickly. He understood the complexity of both sides of the conflict. In a way his family have been touched by similar forces – his parents are both Anglo-Indian, born in India, so they understand the legacy of colonialism.
The place that I am from means I have perhaps given not just my personal past but my family and cultural past more thought than most. That has gifted me clarity around my business and the direction of my work in unexpected ways.
Our work does not exist in isolation from ourselves, and we do not exist in isolation from our family, our background, what we were born out of and what we now exist within. No one is an individual, not really. And we have no hope of acting as an individual or having any real control over our life and work until we see and acknowledge the forces that have shaped us and continue to act upon us.
