My maternal family is from Cúil Aodha in the Múscraí Gaeltacht, but I was brought up in Clontarf in north Dublin.
I’m a native Irish speaker; I have a BA, MA and PhD and I’ve never done a single day’s education through English. My mother was extremely passionate about the Irish language and it was very important to her that it was at the centre of our family’s identity.
But it was no mean feat raising a family as Gaeilge on the north side of Dublin. My earliest memories are of feeling mortified when I was speaking because, growing up in the 1990s, there was so much shame around having Irish as a first language.
It’s not surprising when you think that, for hundreds of years in this country, Irish speakers were at the bottom of the pile. When you’re the only family in a city speaking a language, you become very aware of that sense of ‘other’. It was a real journey through my teenage years and twenties reconciling that part of myself and becoming proud of it.
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We like to think we’re a modern, progressive country, but the effects of many years under British rule can still be felt. I don’t think we can repair our relationship with ourselves until we repair our relationship with the Irish language. The impact of colonialism has entirely shaped who I am. I feel I have a really strong sense of self because of my relationship with the language and this sense of identity was fostered in me as a child.
I knew from a young age that I was different from other people, not just because I spoke Irish but because I played the fiddle too. I never thought I’d be the hot girl out on a Saturday night looking amazing in her short skirt and heels. I was always the girl playing the fiddle in a session; that’s where I felt at home.
I was given my first fiddle on August 1st, 1996, age three, the day my younger sister was born. I’ve never attended classes. My father is a fiddle player and he learned from his father so he was determined my two siblings and I would all learn the same way.
At 22, I began a PhD in oral poetry in the Irish language at NUIG in Galway. I was extremely broke so when I got a call from a production company asking if I’d be interested in presenting a TV programme, I said yes. I got a couple of gigs a year on TG4 and it helped sustain me through my PhD, but I also caught the bug for it and very quickly realised I should be in media not academia.
I’ve always had a really strong community around me so I never got too caught up in my image or how I looked. For people working in the media, this can be really difficult. But that’s never been an important part of my life, probably because I was always too wrapped up in the language and the music.
Embracing indigenous voices is a great antidote to the colonisation that’s destroying the world, be that in Gaza, Sudan or wherever
It also comes from never being one of the cool kids, and being happy with that. I feel lucky because capitalism is built on making women feel bad about themselves. The message is always: The most important thing about you is how you look.
The two girls [Ní Ghlacáin’s How to Gael podcast co-hosts Louise Cantillon and Síomha Ní Ruairc] are much more glamorous than I am and more in tune with popular culture, but they’ve really helped build up my confidence.
We met working at TG4, but after Covid we started hanging out together more and there was a real chemistry between us. After a few drinks we started talking about how we could support each other rather than being pitted against each other professionally – we’re three women of the same age working in the Irish language wanting to be TV presenters so it would have been very easy to look on each other as competition. The podcast was born out of talking about how we could help one another out.
We always say that’s the power of female friendships. We pull each other up and try to understand each other’s struggles and we celebrate each other’s differences.
We talk about this a lot on the podcast because women of our age – late 20s turning 30 – can get really caught up in romantic relationships. We’re battling a lot: What do I need from a partner? Do I want kids? How will that impact on me professionally? How will it affect my relationship with my partner? Women of this demographic are the most interesting because they’re dealing with so much. Being open and vulnerable with each other and fostering friendships is what helps us through it.
We get asked a lot about the cultural revival that’s happening. Almost all of my generation is living abroad because nobody can afford to live in Ireland. My sister is the only woman from her secondary school class not living in Australia, and she emigrated to Switzerland.
We’re all really proud to be Irish, but how can we invest in Ireland and have a physical stake in society when we can’t even afford to buy a house? How can we express our Irishness when we’re scattered all over the world?
The answer is by engaging with our culture. It’s no coincidence that Irish people are excelling in film, music and literature. Embracing indigenous voices is a great antidote to the colonisation that’s destroying the world, be that in Gaza, Sudan or wherever.
In conversation with Marie Kelly. This interview, part of a series, was edited for clarity and length. For tickets to the How to Gael live shows in March, featuring Doireann Ní Ghlacáin, Louise Cantillon and Síomha Ní Ruairc, see bit.ly/m/HowToGael
