I have developed a sixth sense during my time at Georgetown, and five times a semester, as each of my new professors calls attendance for the first time, I am able to use it. “Here,” I interject, recognizing the glimpse of panic on the professor’s face moments before he or she is surely about to butcher my name. “It’s pronounced like Aidan.” At times I’ve entertained hearing what awful, but understandable, pronunciation they might offer, but usually I save us both the embarrassment.
Though few can immediately pronounce it correctly, most can recognize that my name is Irish. With that recognition comes an assumption that I spend the year biding my time until March 17. People continuously asked me “you excited for your holiday?” in the days leading up to last Saturday, as if I were the bishop himself. And yet for how proud I am of my Irish heritage, my excitement ends on March 16, in anticipation of Irish culture being dragged through green sludge in what has become the worst thing for Irish-Americans since “No Irish Need Apply” posters on storefronts. For a religious holiday also responsible for celebrating Irish culture, Saint Patrick’s Day has come to perpetuate the pernicious Irish stereotypes that made Irish-American assimilation so difficult in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Though I understand that college students seize any opportunity to drink, and especially day-drink, Saint Patrick’s Day has become a celebration not of Ireland, but of binge drinking, even beyond the gates of college campuses. Take, for example, the ubiquitous “Irish Yoga” shirts sold at Urban Outfitters, which depict three men drunkenly passed out in various positions. This sentiment, reinforced by the equally popular “Irish I were drunk” tanks, doesn’t raise public ire the way archaic stereotypes of other ethnic groups do. The association between the Irish and alcoholism is so ingrained in American society that these obviously offensive shirts have become popular enough to transfer the image onto hats, sweatshirts, and mugs, so much so that either no one even realizes they’re offensive, or no one cares enough to complain. Irish stereotypes have always been allowed.
As a result, binge drinking is expected on Saint Patrick’s Day, and March 18 comes with popular viral videos of drunken fights, drunkards stumbling, and police clashes from the day before. Few see, or care to see, the dancing, the music (other than “Shipping up to Boston”), the parades, or anything that portrays being Irish as something other than being drunk.
For many of the 35 million people in the U.S. who trace their lineage back to Ireland, Saint Patrick’s Day represents one of the few opportunities to celebrate their roots. What they end up celebrating, however, beyond even alcoholism, is a set of hackneyed icons, like leprechauns and shamrocks, which, though not offensive in themselves, contribute to the culture of denigrating Irishness to stereotypes and clichés, as if all you had to do to gain an understanding of Irish culture was drink a Guinness and watch a Lucky Charms commercial.
These clichés and stereotypes, however, are not entirely to blame for Americans losing sight of the reality of the culture that greatly shaped their own. Being a proud Irish-American, or even understanding Irish culture, means reconciling two greatly differing manifestations of patriotism. For Americans, national pride is derived from perceived exceptionalism—the remarkable history and success of the great American experiment and the international power derived from it. Irish national pride, however, exists in spite of a near complete lack of military and economic success. Ireland’s history is full of leaders who come so close to liberating the island from the British before joining their predecessors in failure. Irish patriotism cannot exist without a hint of humility in a way that makes it almost anathema to American patriotism. This disparity makes considering Irish-American pride a challenging notion, and makes using clichés, as well as long-standing stereotypes like alcoholism, to celebrate a heritage and culture significantly easier.
When I was in Ireland last fall, during the throes of the country’s economic downturn, I noticed much less binge drinking than I notice at Georgetown. I also noticed the resilience of the Irish despite, and in acceptance of, economic difficulty. Avoiding difficulty is something that no one does as they accept Irish clichés and stereotypes on March 17, though I too admit to taking the easy way out. Perhaps next semester, in honor of Saint Patrick, I’ll allow my professors to make my first name sound like a guttural moan.
