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Category: Living in USA

Created: 23 March 2012

Last Updated: 05 January 2016

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Letter from America

by Ellen Neumann
Sullivan County, New York
March 22nd, 2012.

Ellen NeumannMy grandmother, Margaret Sheridan Dillon, was born in Queens, New York, in 1892. This was a time when women in the US did not have the right to vote, were underpaid substantially in comparison to our male counterparts and were not allowed to study medicine, law or most other professions considered to be strictly male territory. This wrong began its transformation to righteousness in 1919 when the 19^th Amendment to the US constitution gave women the right to vote. My Nana Margaret and her counterparts suffered the challenges of second-hand citizenship and overcame them. They fought for and won the right to vote and by doing so opened doors for future generations of women. Over the past 100 years, American women have striven for and attained a certain degree of equality. In addition to the right to vote, we receive equal pay for our labour and have achieved some political clout. From the outside looking in, it would appear that our goal has been achieved; that we have it all. Not so!

A war is being waged on American women by one of our own major political parties. “Not true!” claim the candidates vying for the party's nomination in the 2012 presidential election. Rush “right-wing-ultra-conservative-nasty-bully” Limbaugh (host of a radio talk show) verbally abused and insulted a bright young Georgetown University female student (Sandra Fluke) who was testifying at a Congressional hearing. When this atrocity occurred, not one of the men running for public office stood up to Limbaugh and said “NO! What Rush did to that young woman was WRONG and will not be tolerated!”   The prospective presidential candidates were more afraid of the wrath of this radio shock-jock than they were indignant about his unscrupulous bullying tactics. Limbaugh referred to Ms Fluke as “a slut and a prostitute” simply for voicing her opinion to Congress regarding birth control. Do these powerful men have no daughters, wives or mothers to defend? Wow! How’s that for strides towards equality! Growing up I often heard the slogan “You’ve come a long way, Baby!” used in conjunction with the feminist movement. Really? It seems to me that Baby is losing ground and fast!

What happened to the rights women have fought so long and hard to attain? There are factions in my country whose agendas seem to target women as people who do not deserve the right to choose what is good for them and for their bodies.  There are lawmakers in certain states (Arizona for example) who want to pass laws that will limit a woman’s access to birth control. They want women to prove medical need instead of personal choice before her insurance company pays for her birth control pills. How controlling and wrong that is! How dare they presume to take away the rights that we have fought so long and hard to attain? What will be next? Will the powers-that-be take away my right to earn a fair wage or vote in an election simply because I am a woman? No, you say? How can you be sure? And get this: they hide behind GOD! They call themselves the moral majority and beat the Bible till it is falling apart. They preach democracy, freedom and “Christian living”, all the while telling me what I should or should not be doing with my body. Their motto seems to be “My way or the highway!”

L-R- friend-Margaret Sheridan Dillon-friend,circa 1918-19The road to equality for women has been difficult; our struggle to achieve social justice continues to be an uphill battle. We cannot be silenced. Not now when we have come so far; not ever again. In the words of *Helen Reddy I say: “I am woman, hear me roar”! The best way for me or any woman to make herself heard is to cast her vote in November. Just do it! We have the power to show that equal worth and equal dignity belongs to all human beings. For my Nana and my sisters, my mother and my daughters, my granddaughters and most of all for myself I will stand and say “Bring it on! Hear me roar!”

*Helen Reddy is an Australian singer/songwriter/actress who is often referred to as the “1970’s Queen of Pop”.

Link to her biggest tune: I AM WOMAN

Talk to me! Have you experienced gender discrimination? What are your feelings on this topic?

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Written by Administrator

Parent Category: Life and Style

Category: Living in USA

Created: 16 March 2012

Last Updated: 05 January 2016

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Letter from America

Ellen NeumannBy Ellen Neumann
Sullivan County, New York –
March 15th, 2012.

DPNlive.com is proud to introduce to our readers a new bi-weekly column, Artisan Ireland. Every other week we will feature a small Irish business that fits the bill. The old-time definition of the word artisan refers to one who is skilled at a manual craft. In today’s world the definition has expanded. The term now embraces food, meats and other products that use natural methods of growth, nurturing and processing. It has come to mean natural, clean and fresh. Artisan can also refer to textiles such as wool, paper and fabric that have been woven or created using eco-friendly techniques.

The concept for this column occurred to me one day while I was reading about Ireland’s financial crisis. Although faced with incredible monetary difficulties and the possibility of loss of present currency, Ireland will survive this crisis. How can I be sure? Historically through war and famine, emigration and oppression, strikes and severe weather the Irish people have used their natural resources and instincts to pull themselves out of trouble. It’s been the “little man” not the politician or the “big shot” who has been responsible for the survival of Ireland’s economy.

Today the “little man” is raising pigs on a farm in Tipperary (no steroids or antibiotics injected), turning them into the loveliest bacon and roasts. In Kerry a family is growing a garden full of veggies to sell at market using composted fertiliser and no poisonous insecticides. The family-operated chicken farm in Donegal produces eggs and free range meat using no toxic chemicals. People are making a living off the land in a natural and simple manner and proudly surviving the financial crisis, inch by inch. They are industrious and forward thinking individuals who believe “God helps those who help themselves”. These are only a few examples of the people who will be featured in Artisan Ireland.

Our first article features OLD FARM, a pig farm at Redwood, Lorrha, Nenagh, Co Tipperary. Owned by Alfie McCaffrey and Margaret O'Farrell, it has successfully operated since 2003, producing some of the finest free range pork and bacon products Ireland has to offer. Above is a link to their story, of which they are the authors. Please take a look and enjoy!

A quote from their website reads: “We believe our pork is very, very different from that supplied in supermarkets.  Once you have tasted our delicious pork, you will certainly come back for more!” I believe it!

Here we go, our new adventure taking us to Co Tipperary for a look at the Old Farm. Meet Clarence (the boar), Alfie and their friends. Learn about the wonderful world of raising pigs, the challenges faced by farmer Alfie and his peers in their attempt to bring the very best product to market.

Be proud Ireland! Go raibh maith agat as do chuidiú (Thanks for your help!).

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Please drop me a line and let me know what you think of our new endeavour.

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Written by Administrator

Parent Category: Life and Style

Category: Living in USA

Created: 09 March 2012

Last Updated: 05 January 2016

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Letter from America

Sullivan County, New York
February 6^th, 2012.

A treasured photo of my grandfather’s grandparents, JOHN and MARY DILLON, hangs on the wall directly above my computer. I oft times stare at it and wonder: “What would you think of all my genealogy research; this ‘snooping’ I am doing into your past?”

dillon crest

I think their spirits are pleased with my quest. I am unearthing their secrets, their joys and their sorrows, their birthdates and places as well as any scrap of info I can find pertaining to their lives. I believe that by doing these things, I am contributing to their immortality and possibly to my own. I live by the Dillon family motto: Dum spiro spero. Translated from the Latin this is: “While I breathe, I hope.” At times I have a sneaking suspicion that were my ancestors here today, they might tell me to “Let it be”, “Let sleeping dogs lie” or possibly “Be careful, you may get what you wish for”.

They came from a famine-ravaged Ireland in 1849. They were Roman Catholics and were persecuted because of their beliefs. They came to a country (USA) that offered them religious freedom as well as a chance for a life filled with liberty and the pursuit of happiness. They were a farming family. They worked fervently to make a fine and honourable life here in Sullivan County, New York, for themselves and their children. They prayed for the family they left behind and passed their beliefs to us, their descendants. They spoke little about their past, leaving no paper trail for future generations to follow. Few tales were told of their beloved homeland. Was it indeed as beloved to them as we lead ourselves to believe? I am sure it was in spite of all.

We, the American descendants of these brave Irish people, romanticise Ireland to such a degree that we forget our people would not have left their homeland had it been a glorious place to live “back in the day”. We listen to sweet Irish music and envision “the land of fairies and wondrous wishing wells”. We celebrate St Patrick’s Day in a hearty and overindulgent manner. We dream of the green fields of clover and the soft Irish mist. It is unlikely that my grandfather’s grandparents had such dreams. Instead, they may have had nightmares of hunger, humiliation, persecution and death. Is this why they closed their painful Pandora’s box, making it very difficult for us to peek inside? Although they did not throw away the key they certainly hid it in a deep dark place. Did they strive to hide their past in order to protect future generations from the pain and prejudice that haunted it? I ponder this often; I wonder.

I make no apology for my genealogical quest. I will continue to pursue my Irish roots diligently and with pride. Had I not done so for the past decade, I would not have the knowledge I now possess. I have gained a stronger love and deeper respect for John and Mary (nee Welch) Dillon. I draw strength from their courage and their optimism; their faith and their stamina against all odds. I am proud to be descended from these brave, honest and loving Irish people. Although I never met them in the flesh, my heart holds a never-ending love for them.

The love, pride and family loyalty they instilled in their children is their legacy. This abiding love surpasses the grave eternally. What is the proof of this? It is ME! It is my children and their children. We are living proof that John and Mary Dillon’s prayers have been answered. We hold each other dear as well as those gone before us and those yet to come.

By Ellen Neumann

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John Dillon b. Co Cavan Ireland 1823 d. Sullivan Co, New York USA 1908

Mary [Welch] Dillon b Co Kerry Ireland 1926 d. Sullivan Co, New York 1896

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Written by ellen neumann

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Category: Living in USA

Created: 02 March 2012

Last Updated: 05 January 2016

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Letter from America

By Ellen Neumann
Sullivan County, New York
February 29^th, 2012

Ellen Neumann

Copyright E.Neumann

Copyright E.Neumann Copyright E.Neumann

I visited Ireland in 2008 with my favourite travelling companion, my darling then 80-year-old mother, who has since moved on to that big hamburger joint in the sky (Mom never met a burger she did not like. Heaven for Mom must be full of them!). Unlike our previous visit to the “Emerald Isle” in 2004 which had been hurried and focused primarily on genealogical research, our second visit was leisurely, personal and adventurous. We were befriended by several Irish families via the internet before our arrival. We had the chance to experience daily family life with our new Irish friends and we seized it. Cultural differences were subtle yet evident, mostly in a pleasant and surprising manner.

Our first encounter with Irish family life, on the surface, seemed identical to that of an average American family: a mother, a father, a couple of teenagers. Home is a big upscale house on a country lane. Dad commutes to the city each day. Mum works at a local establishment and cares for kids, hearth and home. This is where the sameness ends and the cultural difference begins.

I discovered that Irish children are not expected to grow up so fast as their American counterparts, a good thing. In my hometown in Sullivan County, New York, children are expected to get at least a part-time job as soon as they are legally old enough to do so (about 15 years of age). American parents encourage their kids to work after school and/or on weekends for several reasons. The paycheck provides spending money that would otherwise be coming out of Mum or Dad’s pocket. Life skills that will be invaluable in the future are learned. Teens are all driving cars by age 16 and no longer need to pester their parents for constant taxi service. All seemingly good reasons to begin the process of pushing the baby birds out of the nest, or are they? Irish parents instead live by the philosophy “What’s the hurry? Let kids be kids as long as possible”. I like this philosophy although in truth I was one of those birds who pushed their babies out of the nest a little too soon. I felt that “idle hands were the devil’s workshop” as the saying goes. I was wrong. They would have grown up to be respectable citizens regardless of their working as teens. Live and learn.

The most surprising difference I found between Irish and American children concerned elderly people such as my mother. I am sorry to say that here in America most children do not go out of their way to interact with old people they do not know. They are not necessarily mean or nasty to our senior citizens yet they do not treat them with reverence. Unless the person is a grandmother or a close family friend the average teen/tween might ignore them as if they did not exist. Sad but true.

This was not the case for my mother and the young people we met in Ireland. The Irish children were not only polite but seemed delighted to have the opportunity to interact with a person who had lived for 80 years. They engaged her in conversation, catered to her wants and attended to her needs. They laughed with her. They listened to her. Instead of walking ahead of her in the street, they walked with her arm in arm. They guided her as she entered a doorway or a car. It was more than just good manners. Most of our American kids have good manners as well. It was something beautiful in the Irish culture. Something intangible and wonderful that cannot be bottled or marketed.

From Dublin to Cavan to Kilkenny we travelled over the course of a month. Not once did Mom feel burdensome or old even though she walked slowly and tired easily. Our young Irish friends played a large part in making this one of the happiest times of her life. Their inborn view of my mother as someone to be honoured instead of ignored is a blessed, amazing and unforgettable part of Irish culture. Did I mention the Irish kids knew where the good hamburgers were to be found? Ah they did, God love ’em!

**A special shout-out to Emma and Mathew and Sarah Malone, the kids I speak of in the above article. You are now young adults, well on your way to a bright future. I will never forget your kindness.

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