Thank You-West Belfast
The street named Tennyson
Moving day has arrived. We were leaving my first home in Mc Donald Street (Lower falls) West Belfast traveling about 1 mile away to Tennyson Street (Springfield Road area). It was all a bit of a shock as I was only 7 years old at the time. How would I settle in a new street, make new friends, and start exploring? Isn’t that what all kids aged seven do? I took the soccer ball onto the street and started kicking it against a range of garages that were located at the bottom. After about 20 minutes other kids came over and asked could they play. The round ball always acts as an enabler for conversations. The time flew by as I started to learn everyone’s name and where they lived. Luckily for me, they were all based around the street I lived. What school are you going to they asked; St Galls I said. We all go there also. Tennyson Street was adjoined with Ruskin Street on one side and Forthriver Street on the other. The sands of time have consigned these streets to memories.
They all backed onto what was known as the Flush and Cottee Mill. These were vast natural fields, full of wildlife, a dam, rivers, and tunnels we could go exploring within. They were surrounded by the Mackies site (spanning both communities). This was an industrial factory of engineers, which was bombed by the Germans during World War 2 for making munitions for allied forces. It closed in 1999. The site is now home to the local college, an enterprise centre, and other mixed sector employers. Today, the mum and sister live not too far from it!
Starting school and corporal punishment
The mum calls me to awake for school. Is this excitement or nerves I feel? After 5 trips to the bathroom, I’m still not sure. How would I at 7 years old? We walk the short distance to the school. Each morning assembly is held in the outside sports area, which is built within the grounds. I look around for faces I recognize and don’t see them. Now I start to panic. I didn’t want to go in. You witness it at the start of every school year. The kid’s running back towards their mum/dad kicking and screaming, tears pouring down their faces. After a bit of cajoling, I was ready to go inside.
The fresh smell of disinfectent greeted me. I can still smell it now as I write. After going to my class I was introduced via the teacher and sat down ready to begin my next school journey. We were living in the days of corporal punishment (You could get hit hard) if you misbehaved. Our principal’s weapon of behavior modification was a bamboo cane.
When you stepped out of line the cane rained down on your hands 6 times (We called it 6 of the best). It was banned when I was 9 years old. Imagine the uproar now if kids were disciplined in school this way? Did it leave me scarred and traumatized? Thankfully not. It was the way of life back then, and we got desensitized to it quickly. The school provided a range of team sports to enable us to learn discipline, exercise, and compete. I quickly got involved in both the Soccer and Gaelic football teams. Any sport with a circle-shaped ball that you can kick, I wanted to try it. Between playing in the school teams and every day after school in the street the ball became part of how I focused my energy during those years of conflict in the country.
“Make up your mind that no matter what comes your way, no matter how difficult, no matter how unfair, you will do more than simply survive. You will thrive in spite of it” Joel Osteen
Adventures in the Flush
Who wouldn’t like to go exploring every day as a kid? The curiosity, excitement, imagination, and unknown pushing you to take risks, without devising a strategy around it now as an adult. At the back of our house, we had a large nature reserve. There were so many parts to it they all carried different names; The Flush (rabbits, foxes, frogs tunnels, river) Cottee Mill, (a large road that adjoined all) Springfield Dam (swans, ducks), and the Horses and Donkeys (well, because it contained horses and donkeys). What could you not do with all this as a playground? When it was warm we were in the river, sliding, jumping, and in most cases trying to drown each other! After school we would go chasing rabbits, catching frogs, exploring the tunnels, and making bows and arrows from the wood we cut from trees. Not as skilful as Robin Hood, but they still worked!
During the winter we took our bikes onto the dam which had frozen over. Staying upright on this surface would be a challenge even for Cirque Du Soleil. Given the scale of the area, it travelled under the road and into the protestant community. The real test was to go through the tunnel into the horses and donkeys undetected! We moved in stealth the slightest noise had us on high alert! The tunnel had large hills on either side once you exited. If we were discovered the scrabbling would have to be at speed. The hills presented us with a disadvantage if the stones started raining down. However, that was all part of the mission. To be accepted as part of our street crew you had to undertake this!
Barricades and no milk
Every year on the 12th of July Protestants celebrate the Battle of the Boyne. It was when the Protestant King William defeated the Catholic King James. The community in which I lived (Catholic) was a stone’s throw away from the Shankill Community (Protestant). On the 12th of every year, the army would move in at the crack of dawn and block all exits. They erected large screens so we couldn’t see out onto the main road. Now, as kids, you think this is all great fun, as you try to find ways to climb up the large screens or escape through the blockade of army vehicles.
On the other side of the screens, the Protestants were marching with large bands, music, and a lot of cheering. At such a young age this was lost on me initially. As time passes and you understand the meaning of what was happening the words, segregation, inequality, and discrimination start to materialize. Upon reflection, I’m grateful my children don’t have to live through that today.
If you needed essential groceries buy them the day before as there was no mobility allowed. No milk? You need to borrow some. There was a couple of occasions when it got quite nasty with fighting between the adults, army, and police. Some of my greatest memories were during these days yearly. Not for what was happening on the other side of the screen, but how the community in which I lived responded. We had our form of street entertainment to keep us occupied. Now, let’s go chase some rabbits!
“Obstacles cannot crush me. Every obstacle yields to stern resolve. He who is not fixed to a star does not change his mind” Leonardo Da Vinci
Slow dances and aftershave
At the side of the school, I attended there was a youth club (Clonard). It was opened most nights of the week for us kids. Inside there were games, a television, and opportunities to play sports. It was at this stage that I began to become curious about girls. Every Friday there was a youth disco. This usually equated to a large dose of aftershave and hair gel being applied. I don’t know why as I hadn’t even spoken to a girl. Let alone started shaving! The lights dim, the music slows, and nerves set in. Let the life lessons begin.
Is there anyone you are attracted to?
Never mind that a girl is approaching. Shit. What do I do now? Relax, she is coming over to ask would you dance with her friend. You play it cool. Why? The friends are watching your every move. Even if you are attracted to the girl the fear gets the better of you. Why? You don’t want to be first on the floor with the whole room watching the awkwardness.
Now, begins the game of cat and mouse over the next few weeks. You could play this scene on loop in most youth discos across the western world. Finally, it’s time to step up and be a man. I walk across the dance floor trying to be as slick as possible. All the while the stomach is churning and I feel as if the legs are going to give way.
Thank fuck I put that aftershave on, as I was sweating hard. What if she refuses to dance in front of the whole club? These are moments you start to learn about who you are. Sure, you will have to take the shame, but at least you put yourself in the firing line, not stuck on the side lines pretending you don’t like the girl. Thankfully for me, the offer to dance was accepted. She didn’t need to punch me either. Mission complete.
Bonfires and beach chairs
On the 8th of August every year in most catholic communities, we erected bonfires. The day marked the anniversary of internment which began on the 9th August 1971. This was when men from mainly catholic communities were arrested and placed on remand without any charges. There are still many men living with the trauma of this today. Our Mental Health issues would reinforce both transgenerational/intergenerational trauma arising from events during the conflict. We loved nothing more as kids than collecting wood for the fire, building huts to guard it, and getting chased from builder’s yards or shopping centres where we had taken pellets! You wanted to sit there all night, but rules were rules and you had to go to bed. On Bonfire night there was lots of excitement, large crowds, music, and everyone was in great spirits.
Some of my most vivid memories were of adults sitting around the fire on beach chairs with a beer in one hand and a ghetto blaster beside their feet! As time moved on the bonfires were phased out as they started to become hotspots for risk-taking behaviour and fighting. They were replaced with street parties and entertainment for the kids during the day and music for the adults in the evening. It was called Feile an Phobail (Festival of the People) and is now a huge celebration of Irish Culture and Arts entering its 33rd year. Drawing contributions from poets, activists, artists, and politicians both local/international during the 1st-13th August. The twin daughters have attended some of the music events. Jesus, I feel old now.
Soccer takes over
When I wasn’t in school, exploring or trying to understand a Rubik Cube, I was playing soccer. I joined the local team Holy Trinity F.C. aged 9 and we had one hell of a team. At that time I would have put our front four players (2 old school wingers) a playmaker and centre forward against any defence in the country. It was amazing to play on this team. We were ruthless. It didn’t matter how many goals we scored, we always wanted more. I looked forward to training and matches every week. None of those three in the rear seats of the car like today. Back then we could fit eight into a car when traveling to a game!
When it was cold we were given Wintergreen Oil to apply to our legs. This stuff attacked all your senses when 10–11 years old. It was so strong I think it was powering the vehicle engine on the return journey home! Over the past few years, I have returned to some of those soccer pitches with one of the daughters. She is a real student of the game. Lives breathes and consumes soccer at every opportunity. Bonus for me. The driving 5 times a week for training and games doesn’t bother me at all. Fuck, now I feel really old!
Rewind to my youth. The game had consumed every area of my mind. I watched it, studied players, and had a ball at my feet until my mother called me for dinner in the evening. During the summer I was playing until 10 pm. This is what I wanted to do with my life at that stage. I was starting Corpus Christi College secondary school (aged 11–16 years) in September 1988. The school had a solid stock of producing some fantastic soccer players. After about 4 weeks soccer trials (try-outs) were to be held, which I signed up for. It wasn’t hard to see why the school produced so much talent during the trials.
The standard was high, and I was nervous about the selection. How would the coaches pick 16 players out of this? It didn’t matter as long as I was one of them. We all gathered in anticipation three days later at the notice board. Why do schools always put life-altering information on notice boards? The dejection you feel if you’re not selected can be a hard pill to swallow. I scan the list in nervous excitement. Result. I’m selected as one of the 16 names. Now, let’s get into competition mode!
