Journal_Entry_Irish_American_Subordinate

Journal entry Irish American Subordinate April 5, 1849 My name is Elizabeth O’Brien and I am sixteen years old. I immigrated to the United States of America only six months ago. I used to live in Dublin, Ireland but now I call Philadelphia, Pennsylvania home. As much as I love America I will never give up my allegiance to Ireland. To stay in Ireland meant more poverty, disease, and English oppression. I came here alone because the rest of my family got a sickness from the potatoes we grew on our farm that cost them their lives. As better off as I am here in America there are still problems. The United States is mostly Protestant and so of you are Catholic like I am, people look down on you just like back home in Ireland. It is also very difficult to find work here. A lot of places have signs on their doors saying “No Irish Need Apply.” I have been lucky enough to secure a job as a maid and a cook in a hotel and do well enough to feed myself. I do feel grateful for my job because there are lots of people here who can’t find work at all. The other day I heard the hotelkeeper I work for talking to one of his patrons. The patron asked, “Why are all the women servants in your hotel Irish'” His reply was, “The thing is very simple: the Irish girls are industrious, willing, cheerful and honest—they work hard, and they are very strictly moral. I should say that is quite reason enough.” It felt really good to hear him say that because most people seem to feel quite different. I heard two men talking about an article in the Chicago Post that said, “The Irish fill our prisons, our poorhouses…Scratch a convict or a pauper, and the chances are that you tickle the skin of an Irish Catholic. Putting them on a boat and sending them home would end crime in this country.” Most people tend to think that all Irish people are drunken thieves. I don’t understand why we are seen this way just because we are Irish. We just want a job and wage, we really don’t care about the details. We are willing to work the most menial jobs for long hours for minimal pay. We don’t want to have to beg on the streets but I have seen numerous Irishmen doing just that. It seems as if no group is considered lower than an Irishman. I think that things will change in time but right now is all I can think about. I need to work to pay my way and make a life for myself. April 17, 1849 As I think of my homeland and America I see so many similarities. The people here don’t like me much because I am Irish and I am Catholic. The other settlers here think that being Catholic is wrong and that all people should be Protestant. It is easy for them to judge me because my red hair gives away the fact that I am Irish. It isn’t even that I want to hide the fact that I’m Irish or Catholic, it’s just that I would like to go out on the street and not feel like I know exactly what people are thinking or saying about me behind my back. April 21, 1849 I saw a cartoon in the paper today that again showed Irish people small, ugly creatures getting drunk and pulling shenanigans or causing mischief armed with a shillelagh, which is a thick stick of blackthorn or oak. In the cartoon there was a person calling the Irish person a shanty-Irish, which means that we live in filthy dwellings. If people only really knew us they would understand that we are just as hard-working as they are and that we are just as clean as the next person. I don’t live in a big house or anything fancy. In fact my home is small, cramped, damp, and has no natural light, but it is clean and a place to lay my head after a long days work. I don’t regret coming to America but I wish things were different and I honestly know in time they will be. Maybe in the future there will even be an Irish president. References: www.america.gov/st/peopleplace www.irish-genealogy-toolkit.com/Irish-immigration-to-America.html www.urbandiictionary.com