Guest Lecture
We began the day with a thought-provoking guest lecture on Irish identity, media, and the evolving landscape of culture in Ireland. The speaker touched on everything from newspaper bias to the shifting definition of what it means to be “Irish.”
One compelling discussion focused on the Gaelic and Celtic roots of the country—how language, though still present, is fading from daily use. The irony hit me: Ireland is rich with heritage, yet the preservation of that heritage is a modern struggle.
One moment that stuck with me was the discussion around abortion rights in Ireland, which were legalized only in recent years. I was genuinely surprised to learn that, until then, an unborn child was considered legally equal to the mother. That comparison shocked me.
Print Museum
Later, we visited the National Print Museum, where we stepped into a mechanical history of mass communication. The tour brought the evolution of printing to life—monotypes, linotypes, and type trays that looked like puzzles of human ingenuity.
Louis, one of the guides, was both knowledgeable and hilarious. He made a mock “Wanted” poster for Savannah, which we all loved. I was fascinated by how the type had to be set backwards and upside down for it to print correctly. It’s so easy to take digital formatting for granted, but this experience made me appreciate the tactile genius of print.
Upstairs, we saw vintage posters from the Abbey Theatre, which was a meaningful crossover with my own theatre studies. There’s something powerful about the physicality of these designs—how even posters can carry national identity, political opinion, and artistic voice.
Wine, Vodka, and Guinness
In the evening, I visited a hauntingly beautiful church, where a choir’s voices filled the vast stone interior. The music gave me chills. I understand now why people say singing is like praying twice. The blend of human voice and echoing space created a moment I wished I could bottle—empowering, humbling, and deeply moving.
But perhaps the most unforgettable part of the day was seeing the one-woman show Myra. It told the story of a woman experiencing homelessness, addiction, love, and loss. Her performance was raw and unrelenting. One takeaway hit hard: addiction isn’t always about compulsion—it’s often medicine for a deeper, invisible wound. I had to donate afterward. There was no other choice.
The day ended at Dudley’s Pub, where traditional musicians gathered in a casual circle, sharing songs. Though we learned Irish music isn’t always the “fiddle and guitar” stereotype, this gathering still felt steeped in authenticity. There was joy, community, and a palpable sense of home.
This entire day reminded me why storytelling—in any form, from print to stage to song—is so vital. It preserves identity, provokes thought, and allows us to recognize the humanity in ourselves and others.
