Stunned into Silence

Because apparently everything wasn’t crazy enough the past month.

This week, I got a job I really, really wanted. At one point this week, nothing could wipe a smile from my face.

This week, I went on a second date which confirmed for me that there would be no third. It also showed me that I still feel a sense of obligation to men, as I allowed him to kiss me goodnight, and felt absolutely nothing.

I was also asked to help the Northern Irish comedy scene this week, by joining a council board, by setting up my own open mic, by teaching people around the country and by collaborating with a new, exciting friend.

This week, one of my closest friends sent me a parcel from Germany. It arrived broken, ripped, and with apologies from the Royal Mail. It also arrived without the precious letter that it had once contained. Somehow, this felt especially painful, as it arrived moments after the UK announced something which truly broke my heart.

On Friday I cried tears I’ve never experienced before. This week my country’s democratic voice was ignored, as Britain decided to Brexit. This week, my political opinions flared up to a degree that I barely recognised my responses and reactions.

The Sound of Silence

So, I’ve been quiet on this blog, because like many others, I’ve been nursing my shock and airing my grievances both online and off. Days later, and now, as I glance out my window and see the grey, drizzly skies, I feel desolate. The racism, the xenophobia, the political panic is tangible all over the country. I feel especially robbed (there’s no need for me to feel “especially” anything, I know I am no better or worse than anyone else), but this feels so personal to me.

The EU gave me so much. I left four years ago, as the UK could not give me the professional experience I wanted. I freelanced a bit for BBC Radio Ulster, and worked my ass off, for meagre wages, in a local theatre. I did love both jobs, but they felt, and were, fleeting at best. I packed up a single suitcase and became an immigrant in Germany. I got a new, exciting job after 9 days there, and started a trajectory which helped me get to where I am today. I was encouraged by my German boyfriend to start stand-up comedy, which I did. I was fortunate enough to be encouraged by other comedians on the scene in Berlin, who hailed from all across the world. Their guidance, encouragement and generosity helped me discover and develop something I love, deeply. This year, as I started to feel the tug of maturity pulling me towards a more stable lifestyle, I made the difficult decision to bring my new skills, both professional and personal, back to my home country.

I always struggled to acknowledge myself as one of the many young people that Northern Ireland bleeds each year, believing that it needs youth more than ever. Is that not the spirit of the EU? Foster, grow, hone and harvest skills across a single market, with open borders and open mindsets, to bring them back to contribute to your own land? It was hard to leave Germany because I delighted in their diversity. People, ideas, style, culture, food, everything came from all across the world, and the Germans deeply defend this diversity, especially in Berlin. I knew coming back to Northern Ireland, and more broadly, the UK meant I would be face to face with more xenophobia, more neo-conservative ideals which I didn’t necessarily agree with.

I consoled myself that yes, there was a political and ideological fracture in the UK, but the majority were the “informed” who believed in togetherness, unity, liberty and inclusiveness, like myself.

I was gutted to see I was wrong. I am reeling, still.

Am I A Citizen, or An Individual?

This blog was to map my journey of assimilation back into my homeland. I cannot truthfully say that Brexit did not cause me to tremble with indecision. I felt divided between stepping up to my civic duty, or fleeing once more. Yesterday, I was asked by European press to voice the emotions of my country. Initially I felt abhorred that I would be asked to represent my country in any way, feeling so distant from it. I felt isolated, as a “young” person, who’d been sold down the river by the elderly. I felt alone as a liberal voice, one which deeply loves what the EU stands for, in a country which apparently does not. I felt scared, but knew that my fear would be nothing compared to people who must now be feeling the bite of racism and bigotry snapping at their heels across the country.

Then I remembered that my country, Northern Ireland, had voted to remain. We were being overlooked, again. My anger was their anger. I spoke to the press.

I have concluded that perhaps this is the time not to run. This is the time to fight back for the ideals I treasure, and that I know 50% of this country believe in. Although the UK feels fractured on class, age and even national lines (and, I believe, won’t be existing in the way it does now for much longer), would I be in fact, echoing the actions of the UK’s Brexit, if I simply turned tail and left?

“… I am certain that after the dust of centuries has passed over our cities, we, too, will be remembered not for our victories or defeats in battle or in politics, but for our contribution to the human spirit.” JFK

I mentioned I got a job I really wanted this week. Not only does this job feel like something I know I can do well, but also something I can do with passion, creativity and vigour. I also was invited to my new company’s summer party on Friday night, and despite my low, saddened mood all day, I had a sensationally fun time. My colleagues seem to not only be extremely talented, from the wealth of awards they have won, but they are so unbelievably welcoming, warm and friendly. I’m incredibly excited to start work there.

I also spoke strategy with a fellow comedian on the scene this week, and felt excited and impassioned to help the comedy scene in Northern Ireland and Ireland. Arguably, this is an incredibly important time for comedy. Of course, it is all about the laughs, but it is also stealth education on topics that others shy away from. Comedy can enlighten and inform, as well as entertain. Also, if nothing else, in dark times, we need to laugh.

“There is a connection, hard to explain logically but easy to feel, between achievement in public life and progress in the arts. The age of Pericles was also the age of Phidias. The age of Lorenzo de Medici was also the age of Leonardo da Vinci. The age of Elizabeth was also the age of Shakespeare.”

I am moments away from going to meet a friend, to flesh out and organise our plan to host a public forum, which we will hold in Belfast next Saturday afternoon. Our plan is to collect community stakeholders, in business, arts, health, energy, etc., as well as leading political figures, to discuss the next steps for Northern Ireland after this huge political shitstorm. I will leave my personal thoughts on how I believe Northern Ireland should progress to another post.

Phew. These are scary times, and I am scared and unhappy. But it is these moments which will define us moving forward. Perhaps, this was exactly the right time for me to come back, even if it is difficult. My national pride, complex at the best of times, has been stripped away and removed entirely. However, I still believe in humanity, and the current trends need to be stopped. If I can contribute to that in any small way, then I ought to. And will do.