Ballysally

Good day, so it is. My mom's plane gets in around 1:00, so I think I may leave work a couple hours early today. No matter, since yesterday my workday consisted of me leaving my flat at 6:30 a.m. in order to catch a bus to Coleraine, where I helped assist in a cross-community seminar in a primary school. The experience was BRILLIANT.

I arrived at Ballysally Primary School (a Protestant school in a Protestant area) around 9:20 a.m. and was greeted by a swarm of kids in yellow and brown uniforms. Who chose that color compilation for them I'm not sure, but it was fairly horrible. Besides the ugly uniforms, the kids were excited about the programme and even more so to get to spend the day with their "new American friend." I got asked more funny questions than I can remember, some of which included "Do you eat a lot of cheesy popcorn?" or "What is your word for soda?" and "What is your word for England?" Err...
A few minutes later, a bus pulled up and out hopped an armada of navy-blue donning Catholic 9 and 9 year olds. They came into the school, hesitantly waved at the other children, and sat together on the other side of the gym.
It didn't take long into the program for many of the kids to start to forget what uniform they were wearing. They had to draw pictures of what their "ideal community" would look like, and I was extremely pleased by the pictures that were appearing. One girl had drawn a house, a park, a church, and a cake shop. I asked her what sorts of people lived in her community, and she replied "all sorts." I then asked her where the other people might go to church if they were of different religions. She looked a little surprised and replied with "Maybe we could split the church down the middle?" Ha ha. So precious.
I think my favorite moment of the day was the scavenger hunt outside. Kids from each community were paired up into partners and they were on the hunt for different colours found in nature. Two little girls tugged on my sleeve, handed me a little handful of wildflowers they had picked, and asked if I would keep them and take them home with me. I think I almost died it was so adorable.
The last part of the day was a discussion on the meaning of colours. The woman leading the programme asked "What sort of feelings do you get when you see green, white, and orange together?" The Protestant children's replies were "scared", "nervous", or "I don't like those colours together". The same happened for red, white and blue, and the Catholic kids. When the topic of Protestants and Catholics came up, many kids were quick to defend their own community and also had many questions for the other one. It was clear that even though they had gotten along fairly well and co-existed for the day, society had already played a large hand in their forming prejudices even in the short time they have been alive. So interesting. I did also note that the girls were much more willing to intermingle with children of the opposite community, whereas the boys ran around like hooligans, made comments under their breath, and primarily stuck with their own mates when allowed. I remembered a lecture we had had in Coleraine about young men growing up in conflicted societies and the social norms they are subconsciously told to follow from the very beginning of their upbringing. Many of these boys appeared to be very defensive and proud of their own community, acted tough, and seemed to be weary and slightly defiant of the other children. Hmmm. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my experience and think I am going to write my big thesis paper on the topic of cross-community interaction for young people.


On a different note: something is happening to me. Something very frightening. The accents in my sentences are cropping up on random words and I'm finishing speaking with a question-like tone, even when I'm just making a statement. I was speaking with the 20-something-year-old teacher who brought the Catholic kids to Ballysally, and when he told me he was from some small town in the country in my head without any hesitance I my exact thought was "ah, a wee culchie, so he is." The look on my face must have been hilarious, and despite the fact that that specific sentence was the one to appear in my head, I simply replied with "that's nice," because I still can't take myself seriously when I think words such as "wee" and "culchie." Ha ha. My life.

So it is.
-karen