For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure to read Nell McCafferty’s writing, there’s much to choose from. She was a controversial and provocative journalist and author in Ireland for decades until her death last year. McCafferty, a gay, feminist Catholic from Derry, born in 1944 embodied the contradictions that make us all human and that were so often unspoken and uninterrogated in Irish society at the time. She was brash, opinionated, and courageous in her campaigning for Irish independence, civil rights, women’s rights, gay rights, and yet sensitive and publicly hurt in love. She wrote about the hypocrisy and abuse in the Church and her own struggle with abortion rights as a Catholic woman raised by a devout mother.
Perhaps a good place to start is her first article for the Irish Times in 1980, “Armagh is a Feminist Issue.” McCafferty wrote about the protest by female political prisoners in Armagh prison.
“There is menstrual blood on the walls of Armagh Prison,” she wrote as the opening lines. “Flies and slugs grow fat as they grow thin. They eat and sleep and sit in this dim, electrically lit filth, without reading materials or radio or television. They are allowed out for one hour per day, hopefully to stand in the rain.” The story of her life is as radical as any of the stories she told in her books or journalism, but it’s one of my favorites for other reasons.
When I moved to Co. Kerry to work for the Kerry County Council (the local authority) I was hired on a grant-funded contract to coordinate social policy work for a coalition. While it became clear the funding for my contract was not sustainable, a consultant recruited me to work with him at his new business. My time there was short-lived because I then got a promotion (in a roundabout way) back with the local government. But while there I met John, originally from Derry, and new to Kerry. He had rented a house in Kilshannig with his wife, before moving to a new place outside of Castlegregory. He’d met my in-laws and helped with a fundraiser when my brother and uncle-in-law were lost at sea when their trawler sank while I’d been living in Galway.
Later we continued to work together and his wife, Shahida, began working with me as a community development worker. Both were smart, funny, extremely experienced and intelligent and outsiders in Kerry. Shahida, a well-known feminist activist and writer in other circles, pushed for some basic workplace reform at the community development project who employed her (yes, activists and community development organizations can also be bullies and treat communities and staff like crap) to fit in with the culture of her organization and was treated badly by her supervisor. I had little experience or knowledge of work or life at the time, but knew instinctively that we should embrace and respect her and frankly be honored that she wanted to share her experience and knowledge with our small sector in rural Kerry. Most people agreed, but there’s always a few who are threatened by outsiders for their own reasons.
Although he didn’t tell me then, and maybe not ever himself, John’s father was murdered in his home by Loyalist paramilitaries when John was a child. Shahida, born in Pakistan, moved to London as a child when her family was exiled due to opposition to political corruption. This couple has lived through trauma and tragedy and openly spoke out against injustice, and yet were kind and compassionate - not an easy accomplishment and a balance I find hard to manage in advocacy.
While no one has described Nell McCafferty as unassuming or gentle, her words and her life of course included a softness and gentleness. John, Nell, Shahaida are all examples of people who are unique, authentic about their principles when not popular or easy, and models of straddling invisible lines between cultures.
