Back when people seem not to remember, when interest rates were between 19 and 21%, and unemployment was over 20% , I joined most of the rest of us that were lucky to get a third level education (a luxury back then – not a God given right – and we had to pay for fees !) and emigrated from this, our great country.
It was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I was born in 1964, and whilst growing up, got to recognise each and every budget, as a bad thing, where income tax was raised every year. Petrol, cigarettes, alcohol – you name it – went up in price. Tax bands were narrowed at every budget and any pluses were not worth mentioning.
But I was lucky ! I didn’t think it then, like most people under the age of thirty don’t think it now. I got a great education and was able to graduate from University (there were only five then – with a narrow enough list of courses). I realised though that I would have to seek work PDQ (pretty damn quick) and if I didn’t, then it was off to the US, or the UK, or somewhere else far flung, to earn my living. I certainly wasn’t thinking of taking a year out to ‘find’ myself, or tour the world before I started off work – but perhaps that’s a good thing – that some can afford to actually ‘do’ that now.
Back then (it’s not that long ago), if you got a job offer, you bloody well took it and were delighted. It meant that you were one of the lucky ones – one of the ones to stay ! Like the eldest boy in the family, you got the farm !
Most of my class in College waited only until they had their University degrees in their hands, before packing a bag and heading to the Airport or Ferry – and then, like now, it was seen as the ‘cream of the crop’ was leaving, never to return. Those days are thankfully gone. Most of the people who I knew to emigrate in the 80’s are now back in Ireland, living their life, raising their families, and getting on with things.
Emigration was seen in the past as just that (and indeed for many it was) – leaving the Four Green Fields never to return. Emigrating to America was the then equivalent of leaving to set up shop on the moon – never mind going to Australia or New Zealand !
Emigration in the mid 1980’s was our first step into the world of business – and by that I mean, first time going to work – whether you were an engineer, a nurse or a bricklayer. It was the first time a lot of us had been away from home. It was the first time we had to really look after ourselves.
We had to realise that this wasn’t a summer holiday away from home – this was it ! This was life ! It was this that all our parent’s teachings had been about. This is what school and college was preparing us for. To stand on our two feet and be counted – and thankfully most passed, some with flying colours.
You see, we were Irish. This had happened before to our brothers and sisters, fathers and grandfathers – and make no doubt, even if we find endless gas off the Mayo coast, and oil in Dublin Bay – it will happen again. Emigration made men and women out of us and made us all the stronger for it. It happened to our forefathers, but in those darker times, international travel was not an option – and there was the fact, that if you came home from overseas in the past, without the trappings of being rich, then you were viewed as a failure.
It is hard to believe that even today, there are Irish men and women, living on the streets of England, that will not come home, for that very reason, and even though there are many of them, thet are/were in a minority. Most people who left these shores in the past, are able to look back on those days and reflect that it was a good experience in the long run. Personally it was very hard to be a strange city and so far from family and friends, but in time, it became more bearable and soon it became the norm.
Once again the media are jumping on the band wagon, berating the Govt and the politicians, at every hands turn, saying that once again, Ireland’s brave young are having to leave. RTE last week, on their Six One News, had a piece about two young lads about to leave a certain village in Ireland, and that the village was going to suffer because of it. There is nothing to suggest that even if the two lads stayed in Ireland with an abundance of work, that they would stay in their village. More than likely they would have been off, if only for a few years, to Dublin, Cork, Galway, Limerick or some other place, with brighter lights than their own small home town.
And there lies the rub – most of those who are forced to spread their wings at this moment in time, will be back. It might be a few years, it might even be decade, but they will return. They will have learned more of the world. They will have gained invaluable experience, which they would not have gained here. They will come back to settle down and begin a new phase of their lives – and all our lives will be richer because of it.