By Aine

Following  Minister of Transport, Tourism and Sport Leo Varadkar’s glib comment that we all could still afford a holiday as the Budget would not be that bad comes his Fine Gael colleague Finance Minister Michael Noonan remarking that our emigrants are leaving to see the world “as a lifestyle choice”. 

Well Minister Noonan, maybe where you come from in Limerick that is the case but I know hundreds of emigrants who have left these shores and it had nothing to do with “lifestyle choices” and everything to do with trying to keep body and soul together, finding a job and making a life for themselves.

They made the choice to try and get a job rather than stay on the dole in Ireland and face a very bleak future with little or no job opportunities, and the banks and lending institutions either snapping at their heels for payback of negative equity mortgages or with no prospect of getting one in the first place . Oh yeah and then Social Protection Minister Joan Burton adds insult to injury by also remarking that, for some, being on the dole is a “lifestyle choice”.  Not for anyone I know, it isn’t.

As I prepare to go to Australia to visit my youngest daughter who has been there for the past three years, I am incensed by tactless throw-away remarks coming from our present Government.

My daughter would dearly love to come home, misses home greatly, but there is no future for her here and therefore she must remain on the other side of the world where at least she has a job with a steady income and a promise of better things.

I know several young people who are currently in Australia picking fruit, hardly a “lifestyle choice”, these are young, well-educated, bright kids who found they had no future at home after leaving college.

It’s easy for you Michael to make such disparaging remarks from your lofty perch in Leinster House.

       I suggest that you take a trip out to Dublin airport and do a quick survey of the people leaving where I think you will find that many of them feel they have no alternative but to take a plane out of here.

Current emigration is splitting up young families, with many young men working in England, leaving behind partners and young children, to try to gain employment to keep a roof over their families’ heads back home. You should be commending them, not insulting them.

When you mention Australia of course it brings to mind images of sandy beaches, warm sunshine etc. but a recent survey by the Irish Independent revealed that of the 70,000 people who emigrated last year, the destinations they chose to call home were the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the USA and Germany.

Another 40,000 are expected to emigrate this year.

Can I suggest that in future all Government Ministers engage their brains before insulting the very people who are willing to get up of their arses and take charge of their lives, in whatever part of the world they think offers them the best opportunity.

By Grainne

Dry your tears Mammies and Daddies of Ireland.  Your sons and daughters in Australia, from the evidence I saw on a recent trip, are having the time of their lives.  I saw and met nary a one lamenting the auld sod.  They were far too busy having a good time.

Of course there were tears at the airport when you bid them goodbye.  Then you went home, as my sister did after seeing her youngest daughter off two years ago, to cry some more, rail against the recession that doomed our children to the ‘scourge’ of emigration and curse the Government that brought it about.  I myself have been heard to decry the circumstances and those in power responsible for our young people (more usually described, Utopian-like, as our ‘Brightest and Best’) having to leave the country.  But that was before I saw proof of what I’d suspected for a while; they’re having a great time!  

They probably stopped sniffling five minutes after going through the security gates at the airport as they looked forward to their first big adventure without parents looking over their shoulders.

Forced emigration has been a richly mined vein for balladeers and poets for decades.   Disregarding the reality that many make the conscious choice to go there, offspring departing for foreign shores invoke much lamentation.  Mention of Australia in particular, brings the added and somber invocation “it’s so far away!”  It ‘tis of course, a long ways away.  A whole day away.  With flight changes and stopovers it can take as much as two days.    A little perspective anyone?

Rosie O’ Grady’s in Perth was heaving on a Friday night while we were there.  We spotted not a single patron weeping into their drinks over missing home.   The rainbow of football jersies showed that most counties were represented among the young men gathered.   The crowd was raucous and good humoured.

In another pub on a Thursday night a gaggle of Irish gals were pooling their money to see if they could stump up enough for a final round.  There was much cheering when they discovered they could and one of the two young lads in their company was dispatched to fill the order.  A young barman at that place told us he’d come over three months ago to join his girlfriend who’s a nurse in Perth; was earning 20 dollars an hour and, while they found the city expensive, were enjoying their experience.  “Sure what would ya be at at home?” he said; a sentiment that we heard echoed a few times while there. 

In a park another day we met a mixed group of young Irish sitting on the grass in the sun, shooting the breeze.  All seemed happy and untroubled by the distance from home.  They were making plans for the coming weekend.   Outside an Italian restaurant we were dining in, sitting on a seat on the street, we overheard two young Irish lads laughing about an incident in work.  There was much merriment.

In the backpackers hostel where I went every few days to use the Internet I heard many Irish voices come and go.  From what I gleaned, their travels were for the most part enjoyable, even hardships encountered were related with relish, the badge of honour of the budget-conscious traveler.

Mournful Mammies and disconsolate Daddies can take comfort in the fact that their darlings are getting on so well.  Of course there are those for whom the experience may be less than enjoyable, especially if homesickness hits.  But it seems to me that by virtue of the distance they choose to go, those who opt for Australia are, by nature, able and willing to try new things and capable of adapting.

My eldest lad, doing the rite-of-passage year out in Oz a few years back, made friends that have lasted and he counts the experience among his most positive and educational.    As for my niece, she flew from Queensland to meet us during our trip and while she was happy to see the Mammy and d’Auntie and hang out with us for the week, at the end of it she seemed eager to be off back to her job, her friends and her new life.  Despondent she wasn’t.  Having regaled us with stories of multiple high jinks and adventures with friends during her time there, I wasn’t surprised.   “Sure what would she be at at home?”  I comforted her Mammy after she took her leave.  What indeed?

By Grainne

Dry your tears Mammies and Daddies of Ireland.  Your sons and daughters in Australia, from the evidence I saw on a recent trip, are having the time of their lives.  I saw and met nary a one lamenting the auld sod.  They were far too busy having a good time.

Of course there were tears at the airport when you bid them goodbye.  Then you went home, as Aine did after seeing her youngest daughter off two years ago, to cry some more, rail against the recession that doomed our children to the ‘scourge’ of emigration and curse the Government that brought it about.  I myself have been heard to decry the circumstances and those in power responsible for our young people (more usually described, Utopian-like, as our ‘Brightest and Best’)having to leave the country.  But that was before I saw proof of what I’d suspected for a while; they’re having a great time!

They probably stopped sniffling five minutes after going through the security gates at the airport as they looked forward to their first big adventure without parents looking over their shoulders.        

Forced emigration has been a richly mined vein for balladeers and poets for decades.   Disregarding the reality that many make the conscious choice to go there, offspring departing for foreign shores invoke much lamentation.  Mention of Australia in particular, brings the added and somber invocation “it’s so far away!”  It ‘tis of course, a long ways away.  A whole day away.  With flight changes and stopovers it can take as much as two days.    A little perspective anyone?

Rosie O’ Grady’s in Perth was heaving on a Friday night while we were there.  We spotted not a single patron weeping into their drinks over missing home.   The rainbow of football jersies showed that most counties were represented among the young men gathered.   The crowd was raucous and good humoured.

In another pub on a Thursday night a gaggle of Irish gals were pooling their money to see if they could stump up enough for a final round.  There was much cheering when they discovered they could and one of the two young lads in their company was dispatched to fill the order.  A young barman at that place told us he’d come over three months ago to join his girlfriend who’s a nurse in Perth; was earning 20 dollars an hour and, while they found the city expensive, were enjoying their experience.  “Sure what would ya be at at home?” he said; a sentiment that we heard echoed a few times while there.  In a park another day we met a mixed group of young Irish sitting on the grass in the sun, shooting the breeze.  All seemed happy and untroubled by the distance from home.  They were making plans for the coming weekend.   Outside an Italian restaurant we were dining in, sitting on a seat on the street, we overheard two young Irish lads laughing about an incident in work.  There was much merriment.

In the backpackers hostel where I went every few days to use the Internet I heard many Irish voices come and go.  From what I gleaned, their travels were for the most part enjoyable, even hardships encountered were related with relish, the badge of honour of the budget-conscious traveler.

Mournful Mammies and disconsolate Daddies can take comfort in the fact that their darlings are getting on so well.  Of course there are those for whom the experience may be less than enjoyable, especially if homesickness hits.  But it seems to me that by virtue of the distance they choose to go, those who opt for Australia are, by nature, able and willing to try new things and capable of adapting.

My eldest lad, doing the rite-of-passage year out in Oz a few years back, made friends that have lasted and he counts the experience among his most positive and educational.    As for Aine’s daughter, she flew from Queensland to meet us during our recent trip and while she was happy to see the Mammy and d’Auntie and hang out with us for the week, at the end of it she seemed eager to be off back to her job, her friends and her new life.  Despondent she wasn’t.  Having regaled us with stories of multiple high jinks and adventures with friends during her time there, I wasn’t surprised.   “Sure what would she be at at home?”  I comforted her Mammy after she took leave.  What indeed?  The only thing we have in our favour  here at the minute is good weather.  And they’ve that in spades over there.

by Grainne 

Aine’s had the sad task this week of saying goodbye to her daughter, who joined her for a week on her travels, but has had to head back now to the part of Australia she works and lives in, while Aine continues her holiday in New Zealand.  She reckons her youngest daughter will make her life in Australia now, and the prospect of her being so far away, when she returns home to Ireland, makes her sad. 

The parents of another young woman are also trying to come to terms with the loss of their beloved daughter.  But in their case their loss is all the more profound for the heart achingly tragic circumstances in which it came about. 

    The brutal and senseless murder of Michaela Harte has shocked everyone.  A beautiful young woman, on her honeymoon, on the paradise island of Mauritius.  So much to live for.  So much going for her, beautiful, talented, loved and cherished by her new husband, parents, brothers, family, and so many others.  And the daughter of a man so known for his great humanity and compassion.  It beggars belief that such a tragedy could be visited upon him and his family.

Emigration is set to continue in this country, as we leach our youngest and brightest.  There will be many tears shed at airports, many poignant moments when mothers and fathers watch their sons and daughters depart, full of hope and expectation, to carve out careers and lives in countries, far and some not so far, from home.  Few parents would disagree with their children’s decision to go when there is little hope and little to be confident about in the next few years in this country.  That won’t make the parting any easier of course.  But the finality of the awful loss suffered by Mickey and Marian Harte this week  puts perspective on it.