Friday, April 5, 2019

Upstairs Bathroom Renovation, part 3: a conundrum!


Well, I thought I was so clever yesterday sourcing all those taps. Turns out I'm not as clever as I thought! So the cool bath tap image I posted in part 2 was actually a basin tap, so my first challenge was to find the bath tap version. But then I got to thinking about the basin taps I had chosen and I thought jeez if I'm going to all this effort, should I not get ones that match? That sent me on a search for this set, which I am in love with. However, as you'll see, they aren't cheap.
Basin mixer 1: €148 x2 = €296

Bath mixer 1: €193 (10% off with tub)





So, these are the taps I would buy if money was no object, totalling nearly €500. Basically, the only reason they are so expensive is the black finish. That same basin mixer is on ebay in chrome for about €25 -- in other words, the black version is nearly six times more money!

WHICH GOT ME TO THINKING...fuck that. I can DIY this too. A bit of sandpaper, some automotive primer, and some black matte spray paint and I'll be sorted! In case you think I'm nuts, I did do some research and I know that it can be done. It would save me over 300.

about €25 x2 = €50
about €100




But then there's a new conundrum if I go this direction! You see, my plan had been to go through the expense of bumping out the wall so I could have the wall mounted bath tap. But if I go with a painted chrome mixer, then there's an option which would allow me to avoid that expense. But I'd have to compromise on the cool sleek design for this, which is about €80:

Of course, you have to visualise this black. It sort of matches the basin taps better, but ... am I right in saying it's not anywhere near as cool? But I was thinking well jesus if you're going to give up on the wall mounted bath mixer, then maybe I should quit being so stubborn and consider other options. 

For example, this combo, coming in at €220:
About €52 x2 = €104
About €112
 But... I really just am not very excited about those, honestly. And then there's this combo for 220:

About €81
About €70 x2 = €140

With this one, I still have the expense of the wall mounted taps. I am also not psyched on these.

So I guess I'm leaning towards going with the basin mixers I really want in chrome and painting them black. But as for the bath, I really don't know which way to go. If I go with a tub-mounted tap I will be saving money in two ways, so it's hard to turn down. But I just absolutely LOVE that wall-mounted set!

What do you think I should do? And please don't say to give up on black taps!

UPDATE! I found an inexpensive version of the wall-mounted bath taps that I wanted! So... now the real question is... one of three choices. Do I buy the expensive version of the basin taps I want, do I buy the chrome version and paint them, or do I go with the basin tap I posted in part 2? Here are the choices, for your review:
296 for two
50 for two
72 for two























Thursday, April 4, 2019

Upstairs Bathroom Renovation, part 2

I'd like to talk about my plans for this bathroom renovation and how it's all going to come together. In an ideal world, I could walk into a place and say, "Give me that, that, that, and that," but first off, that would be expensive and also I literally haven't found one place that has everything I want. There are approximately 1 trillion bathroom renovation places in Ireland and they're all basically flogging different price points of the same stuff. The fashion, it seems, is to make a bathroom with floor to ceiling tiles in some sort of grey or beige colour and shiny fixtures that look like a hotel. Well, I love staying in hotels but I wouldn't want to live in one.

That's all a long way of saying I am cobbling this bathroom together piecemeal -- or cherry picking, if you will. If you clicked on my Twitter thread from my last post, you probably have a good idea of what I've been considering for the design. Unfortunately, my tastes are a lot more expensive than my bank account, so I've got to find a way to get the look I want for the price I can pay.

Let's start with the tub. You can spend a lot of money on a tub. Luckily, space dictates that I get a small tub (150cm by 70cm). And while I'd love to get a cool tub with jets and bells and whistles, that's simply not in the budget. So we're going to go with basically the least expensive tub available. How much is that, you ask? Well, I think I'm going to go super budget and get this tub for €102.
I was going back and forth in my mind because there are squared off ones that I like the look of, but cost 30 to 40 euros more. I have a lot of right angles planned for this room, and since I had already decided to go for rounded sinks, I thought the rounded edges of this tub would go with those, thus justifying being a cheapskate! 

Speaking of sinks (known in the bathroom game as basins), I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to use a vintage sideboard for my basins -- I'm going with a double sink so that I no longer have to feel rushed when I'm brushing my teeth at night! You may have seen these kinds of projects on pinterest. Something like this: 
There are loads of examples online featuring all different kinds of sideboards, dressers, and cabinets. I was on the lookout for something mid-century like this, but I also had some pretty strict size requirements. I was aiming for 120cm wide and no more than 140cm. A lot of those mid-century sideboards are looooong! And what's more, the ones I found were either just slightly not what I was looking for, or they were out of my price range. I also was looking for something kind of rustic looking -- NOT SHABBY CHIC, mind you! But something that didn't look new. After trolling the different used furniture websites for several weeks, I finally came upon a piece that I thought I could work with, and the price is right - €40! Even after I pay for the man with the van to collect it and bring it to my house, it still will be in the €100 range. However, it needs some TLC. Some heathen painted it, so I'll have to strip it back to the wood and refinish it. Luckily, I enjoy these kinds of projects:
It was made by Tibbenham furniture makers in Ipswich, England so I think I'll be able to remove the paint, sand it down, and finish it off with a nice water resistant oil for the look that I'm going for. I like the clean lines of this piece, and I like that it doesn't go all the way down to the floor, so it won't look too heavy. And if it turns out that the wood can't be re-finished, I'm happy to paint it a cool colour. I also figured that if I want to upgrade in the future, I totally can.

So what about the basins that will sit on top of it? I wrote a long thing about doing a countertop basin, but the thing about this sideboard is that it's 89cm high. Your average pedestal sink is about 80cm high, so it's already sitting on the high side for a bathroom sink. Therefore, I'm wary of doing a countertop basin and bringing the height up even more. For a recessed sink, I could go with two basins, or I could also go with a double sink that is one piece. This one, for example, would leave 8cm on either side and basically take up the whole depth. 
But I worry that it won't look good with that centre drawer section that comes out. Also, I had hoped to do something more rounded as a contrast to the straight lines of the sideboard. So, I could go the traditional route, like one of these (with a different tap, of course):
This would leave me with about 11.5cm on either side and between the two sinks. I think with a black tap, this could end up looking pretty cool. That one on the right is only about €50 (each), which I think is pretty affordable.

Speaking of taps, I want to go with black taps! But black taps tend to be on the pricier side. Also, it's harder to find inexpensive black taps that have the stark, minimalist look that I want. I took to ebay, and here's what I found. For the bath tap, even though it's going to take some construction to build out the wall for these, I think it's going to be super worth it because I absolutely love this tap and I found it on ebay for €55.
For the sink taps, I found these guys, which are about €36 each.
One annoying thing is that living in Cabra, we really don't want to go without an electric shower. We had a very bad experience living in a place without one and let's just say I took many a cold shower with zero water pressure in that place. But electric showers are uuuuuuugly. Even the expensive ones are ugly! So that will put a damper on my lovely design choices - seeing that ugly electric shower there. 

As for the electric shower, I'm undecided whether to get a new one or whether to just relocate the one that is in our current bathroom. I guess the reason why I'm hesitant is that it's probably about 15 years old and it's kind of a miracle it's lasted this long. It makes a sort of high pitched whining sound sometimes, too. So I'll probably replace it. But then - which one to choose? No matter what, I will probably spray paint it a matte black to match the rest of my fixtures. I mean - why not? They have this cool rubber paint now that might work.

And speaking of the shower, I want to talk about the bath enclosure! I have had my eye on some cool industrial ones, like this:
 

But actually you can't find them in Ireland. And the ones outside Ireland are about six times a normal bath screen anyways. So I decided I can easily DIY this look with a bit of black spray paint and some small strips of metal or wood. And if I want to add the frosted effect, they've frosted glass paint for that as well! Here's a photo of a white screen from Argos so you can visualise what I'm talking about. It's €100. I think it would be easy to turn into something resembling the photo above, especially with the tile grid in the background.
Other bits and bobs: I would like to put in a shaver outlet in a hidden cabinet between the door and the bathtub. This would also be where the shower switch would be located, and where we'd keep our towels and other sundries. But I haven't sourced that yet. Likely I'll buy some kind of second hand piece of furniture. 

Also, even though there is a window, I'm considering whether we'll need an extractor fan installed and whether that can go in the ceiling and shoot into the attic, or rather through the attic and outside. That will be an extra cost to consider. 

I might talk about tiles and colour palettes in a separate post. This one has taken longer than expected!








Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Upstairs Bathroom Renovation, part 1


I probably should have blogged about the renovations we did to our tiny two-bed, two-bath house back in 2016, but it was such a whirlwind that I didn't even think to do it! But basically we did the bulk of the work ourselves (with the help of many, many generous and kind friends) - we gutted a good bit of the house (the walls stayed). This entailed pulling out the MANY layers of flooring (at least 3 layers in every room), ripping down all the wallpaper (nearly every room had several layers of wallpaper), and getting rid of a LOAD of furniture and other objects. Then, we installed new flooring, painted the walls, put in central heating and hot water (!!! I know! There was no heat or hot water in the house!), and put in a new kitchen from Ikea. Then over the past two and a half years we've been doing little bits and bobs -- Mark's father passed away about 14 months after we moved in, so we converted his room into an office with a sleep sofa for guests. We got new sofas for the living room. We made some improvements to the kitchen. Here are a few before and after photos:
Bedroom before
Bedroom after

Kitchen before
Kitchen after
Middle room before













Living room before
Living room after

Middle room after
Office after

But the upstairs bathroom didn't really get a makeover beyond putting in linoleum flooring and replacing the toilet. It's a fairly large room for a Dublin bathroom, and given the carpeting we found underneath the lino and our knowledge of these council houses from that era, it seems that the upstairs bathroom used to be a bedroom. However, when they converted it to a bathroom, they just put a toilet and a sink (cold water only) up there and called it a day. There is plenty of room for a bathtub, however. It's not so giant that it can have both a bathtub AND a shower, so we could either put in a shower or we can do a bathtub/shower. I've decided to go with the tub because phase 3 of renovations will hopefully involve knocking out the full bath downstairs and extending the kitchen and I like the idea of having a bathtub for those rare occasions when I decide to pamper myself.

Here's a photo of our upstairs bathroom before we moved in: 

So what I'd like to do is talk about my plans for this room and I'm just going to keep going as things develop. I did a little mockup of the layout. There's a missing wall here so you have to imagine that the tub is actually in the corner.
The toilet will stay where it is. I want to make the window higher and wider as well. The double sinks will be on a vintage sideboard, which I have yet to source because I'd like it to be 120cm, and sideboards that size in the styles I like are hard to come by. They seem to be either much longer or too small. I'll probably have to compromise with regards to my aesthetic vision, or else move the sideboard to the ride hand wall. I could easily do that, and there are a few arguments to be made for doing that, not least of which is that I could then have a mirror above the sinks. This layout means that you're facing the window and the mirror will be on the side. However, I really like the idea of the sideboard being the first thing you see when you walk in the room. I might have to give up that vision, however, in exchange for having a larger sideboard.

But the placement of the bath is a definite! It will be a relatively small bath: 150cm by 70cm. To keep costs down, I have decided to only tile the wall area in the corner of the tub, plus the 2 sides of the tub. The floor will also be tiled, but instead of tiling the other walls, I'm going to do a wood trim at 120cm high around the room and make faux wainscoating, a bit like a fancier version of this: 

The current window needs to be replaced. So I plan to make it higher, larger, and centred on the wall. 

In my next post, I'm going to talk about the fixtures I've picked out, budget, and who's gonna do the work. In the meantime, if you would like to read about my thought process(es) regarding the design elements of the bathroom, I made a Twitter thread about it last week: 






Monday, November 5, 2018

I'm doing it. I'm posting about my CURLY HAIR JOURNEY.

When I left American for Ireland, I had sort of wavy hair that I wished was either straight or actually curly.
2007
Well, somewhere along the way I had to accept that my hair turned... curly. Like, doesn't want to be anything else, will freak out if you brush it curly. Once I accepted this, I realised I needed to figure out a whole new way of doing my hair. So that's when my research started in earnest. And here's my hair today, after being air dried. See what I mean?
2018

Now that I've done the research, read all the blogs, and watched all the youtube videos, I'm going to pass on what I learned with you.

OK SO! It's very easy to sort of get caught in a black hole of curly youtube videos - there are so many youtubers talking about their methods. LUCKY FOR YOU I have watched a million of them and I can tell you some which I think are helpful.

This lady, Curly Susie, has some good videos for beginners, like this one on how to start using the curly girl method:



EASY/OVERSIMPLIFIED Curly Girl Method for Newbies

Some people think that the Curly Girl method means you don't wash your hair. THAT IS NOT TRUE. I wash my hair! It's really about finding the right products. 
The first thing is to make sure that your shampoo and conditioner is sulfate and silicone free -- you'd be surprised which ones are/aren't 'curly girl approved' -- for example, most of the LUSH shampoos have a sulfate as the first ingredient! 


You don't have to spend a tonne of money, though you easily can. Here is a list of products that should be easier to find here in Ireland (well, UK, but you know...some of the same shops) It turns out that this gel from boots is curly girl approved and is super cheap at 1.50. I used it for a couple of weeks and I thought it worked great! I did have to use a little bit more than some other thicker gels, but I really liked it and you can't beat the price. (It turned out that I was massively allergic to it, sadly.) I use Giovanni shampoo, conditioner, leave-in conditioner, and gel.

BEWARE: A brand might have some 'curly girl approved' products, and some NOT approved products, so check ingredients with a website like Curlsbot or IsItCG.

The second thing is to use an old t-shirt or microfiber towel instead of your regular towel. And always plop! Don't twist the hair in a turban. Here's how to do the plop:



Basically the idea behind the curly girl method is to use a gentle shampoo or cleanser ('no poo'), a good moisturising conditioner, and then two products: a leave-in conditioner and then a curly-girl approved gel or mousse. The leave-in conditioner just adds that bit of moisture, and then the gel/mousse locks it in and gives the hair a shine and eliminates frizz. In the old days, you'd have that spaghetti hair gel look, but nowadays gels don't leave that shine.

Now, what I've found is do not be afraid of product. I have really fine hair, and some products weigh my hair down. However, I can use loads of the right products, and in fact going heavier has lead to great results for me. I really like the method used in this video:


The trick is often called 'scrunch the crunch' -- once your hair is dry and your curls are nice and frizz-free, you just scrunch the hair a little and it releases the gel cast on them, so they feel soft again. 

How to create a gel cast:

So I shower, squeeze the excess water out of my hair, put my leave-in conditioner in, then the gel, and then plop my hair. I leave the towel on for about 15 minutes.

Then, I just take the towel off, part my hair where I want it with my fingers, and then go. I try not to touch my hair again until it's basically dry. Then I scrunch the crunch with my head upside down, give it a little shake, and voila!

A lot of people swear by the co-wash method ('washing' with conditioner instead of shampoo) and I think it's great, but even if you go down that route, you should still wash with proper shampoo every couple of weeks. For me, I co-wash every other time that I am wetting my hair in the shower, alternating with a gentle shampoo. So it goes co-wash, skip a day or two, shampoo, skip a day or two, co-wash, and so on. I just find that I enjoy shampooing and my hair gets filmy and weighed down if I don't shampoo once a week or so.

If you live in an area with hard water like I do, there are also clarifying or "chelating" shampoos that get rid of mineral buildup. Here's a blog post from curly cailin about when to use one of those.

Oh also the best thing to avoid frizz is DON'T BRUSH YOUR HAIR. This one was hardest for me, especially because often my hair is only wavy and not curly. I'd think surely I can brush it a wee bit. NO. It gets super frizzy and then I have to wet it down again to get rid of the frizz.

I hope that's helpful to you on your hair journey! 

Sunday, October 28, 2018

You Won’t Meet a Girl in the Homestead, a short story by Angela Coraccio


   B looked in the mirror to check the equilibrium of his tie knot. Removing a comb from his right pocket, he ploughed its teeth through his auburn hair, thick and shiny with brylcreem. The strands of orange hair yielded narrow rows. “Come on, Johnny. Let’s go,” he hollered at the ceiling. Johnny, a boy of ten or eleven with a halo of blonde curls, bounded down the stairs. “There you are, now,” B said, satisfied. “Didja go before ya go?” Johnny nodded. “Ok, then.” B opened the door and the two spilled onto the footpath. Johnny ran ahead, skipping toward the gate. B walked past him to let them both through.
   They headed down toward Cabra Road. “Where we going?” Johnny asked as he took two steps for every one of B's. “For a walk,” B said. They swung right at Anamoe. Johnny strained to see whether a boy in his class was home as they went by, but the house showed no signs of life. He ran to catch up. B nodded to the neighbour, Mrs. Brady, who swayed toward them from side to side. “Lovely day, what, Mrs. Brady?” She looked at the sky. “Rain tomorrow, though,” she said without breaking the beat of her pace. “Her ankles are thicker than her feet!” Johnny whisper-yelled when they’d only barely passed her by. “Did you see that?” he asked.
“Quiet yourself,” B said. He walked on. He could feel tiny beads of sweat starting to crawl out of his pores, so he slowed his pace slightly. By the time they reached Grangegorman, Johnny was officially bored. “What do the crazy people do all day, anyways? Do they get their own rooms? Do they tie the people up? Have you ever been in there? Podger’s granda was in there but he never said antin about it to Podger.” He picked up rocks along the way and tried to throw them at birds. “Do you think he was shell shocked?”
   B cleared his throat. It made a hut huh sound. “It was just a nervy kind of thing,” he said. “He wasn’t himself.” Johnny wondered what that meant: he wasn’t himself. “If he wasn’t himself, who was he?”
   “You know what I mean,” B said as he exhaled the air from his lungs. They turned onto North King Street and walked the length of it to Church Street, where B stood on the corner and looked around while trying not to look like he was looking around. When it appeared no one took notice, he turned around and headed the way they’d just come along North King Street. Johnny followed.
   Their mother’s words echoed in B's head: “You won’t meet a girl in the Homestead!” His eyes roamed the footpaths, front gardens, and windows for P L. P L. She had Greta Garbo looks and a way of laughing with her right hand outstretched that could make you weep with desire. A few weeks before, he was in town, having cycled in after a particularly pointless wander around the Botanic Gardens. He looked up from his feet to see her smiling at him, as if she’d noticed him for a good long while and was amused at his distractedness and attention to the ground. She told him she’d just gotten off work. She looked at him conspiratorially from underneath her tilted hat. “Where are you headed?”
   “Oh, just...home.” B was headed nowhere whatsoever, but he didn’t want to highlight his unemployment, his aimlessness.
   “Let’s stop off for a drink. Come on!” But he knew he had to say no. “I’m sorry P -- my pockets are empty.” He put his hands in his pockets and felt around, as though a coin might magically appear. He hadn’t got a pound to his name. “Nonsense, B!” P grabbed his arm. “I got paid today. What’s mine is yours!” And with that, she stuffed a note into his pocket. He thought he might die from shame, but he wanted to be with her more than he wanted his pride. She slid next to him in a booth at Edwards’ Café. They drank two cokes each. He walked her home as slowly as possible. Her voice bounced against the buildings of Bolton Street like bells at Christmas mass. But then, they lost touch. That was nearly six weeks ago. Six long weeks.
   When B and Johnny reached the opposite end of the street at Blackhall Place, they stood on the corner once again. “I’m hungry,” Johnny said. 
   “We’ll go down the street again and I’ll buy you a sweet at Prendervilles, ok?” Johnny ran ahead in reply, jumping and skipping down the crumbling footpath. B wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. He never saw P L again.
   As so many did in those days, P made her way to Wales. There, she would meet a man from Malta, marry him, move to Valletta, and have two children. “You know, she probably thought Johnny was your son,” Dolores, the neighbour, would say. He pictured little Johnny, sprinting up the road ahead of him. Perhaps it was true. It didn’t stop Johnny dying of pancreatic cancer before either of them got to old age. B continued to  walk the same streets of Dublin. The faces of the shop fronts declined, closed, got renovated, re-opened, changed names, or became another sort of building altogether. B's hair turned blonde, then white. And one day, on his way to mass, he would find himself in front of Mrs. Lennon, P’ mother. She would steady herself, her arms shaking from the weight of her messages. “B P! B P, why didn’t you marry my lovely daughter, P?” Dark lines would punctuate her pursed mouth and wet eyes. “Awful, awful people they were. Jim had to borrow money from the credit union to go over and see what the story was. A fight, someone said, but we’ll never know how she fell down the stairs.” Mrs. Lennon closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked right through him. “They didn’t even have the decency to tell us she was dead until she was three weeks in the grave. Oh, B P. Why didn’t you marry my lovely daughter, P? If you’d married P, she would still be alive today!”

Angela Coraccio

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Dublin, you're my home.

The title of this blog is a play on that song's famous lyrics, "Boston, you're my home," because for many years, Boston was my home and even when it wasn't, I was never far away.

Nine and a half years ago, I moved to Dublin at the age of 35. I had no job and practically no savings. I didn't know a single person in Dublin my age other than my husband. For the first few months, I wandered around town trying to familiarise myself with Dublin streets. I spent a lot of time online waiting for my friends and family in America to wake up and get online so I'd have someone to talk to.

A couple of months in, I started going to this 'autonomous social centre' that was being set up called Seomra Spraoi. I had been in some anarchist spaces in the Boston area -- not many -- but I knew that if I wanted to find out about the interesting stuff happening, I'd need to find the punks, even though I myself had never identified as such. I helped a little with the construction of the space and helped cook for the vegan café nights that happened once or twice a week. I started to meet people here and there, but I felt like I had OUTSIDER tattooed on my forehead. Still, I kept going back.

Mark brought home a magazine called 'The Rag' by an anarcha-feminist group called Revolutionary Anarcha-feminist Group (aka RAG). I learned that the magazine wasn't just something you could submit work to -- you had to be part of the collective, which met monthly and worked collaboratively on the annual magazine. So I joined. And that's where my journey home began.

In that group, I found the most wonderful and inspiring women. I was able to use my writing and editing skills and learn new skills like layout in InDesign. But I mostly learned how to listen. I learned how to think about the connection of oppressions and powers. I learned to be honest with myself and others about my privilege. I learned how to question the judgements and criticisms I had made throughout my very middle class, white-dominated life. I learned how to work in a collective. I learned how to organise and how to support other people in the collective.

When RAG decided to have an open meeting back in July 2012 to talk to pro-choice people about how we could start a campaign to legalise abortion, I had no idea what was ahead of me, but I hopped on the rollercoaster with great enthusiasm because I'd had a taste of what it was like to be part of a collective working towards a goal, and I wanted more of that feeling. At that meeting, we found a huge appetite not just for change, but for action. We formed a network of pro-choice groups. We had our first March for Choice. Then we turned the network into a campaign: The Abortion Rights Campaign (ARC).

I was the first Secretary of ARC, but I'll be honest and say that I had to give it up before my term ended to focus on my fashion business, which I was then just starting. But I tried to keep active, never being able to stay away for long and threw myself into various projects whenever I could manage them. ARC was where the action was. Some exciting development was always happening, and we made small wins over the next five or so years as our marches got bigger and bigger. By then I was on the Board of Directors, though I admit that I tended to shy away from leadership positions because I was afraid of having to quit partway through again.

Finally, in November of 2016, I had a steady job and was in a new home and I had no excuse not to run for Co-convener. At the last second we convinced media and design powerhouse Caoimhe Doyle to run with me. When we were voted in, I made two promises to myself: 1) I would not quit and 2) I would do the absolute best job that I could. I wanted to look back and feel proud of myself and to feel like I really gave it my all. And you know what? As I sit here, I can say that I really kept those promises. Was I the best Co-convener that ever was? Heck, no! But was I the best Co-convener that I could be? Yes. During that year, my father-in-law was very, very ill. It was hard to be working full time, going to as many ARC meetings as I could humanly go to, and supporting my husband in caring for my father-in-law and himself.

But it was full of so many amazing moments, I couldn't possibly summarise. But I think the highlight was being onstage with so many other dedicated pro-choice activists, standing in front of a crowd of 40,000 people, and finding the courage to speak passionately about legalising abortion in Ireland. My American friends and family will probably never know how important that day was in Irish history: it was the biggest pro-choice march the country had ever seen, and I got to be part of making that happen! This middle-aged lady from New Hampshire! Sharing a stage with absolute legends!

During that year, I was probably a better Co-convener than I was wife and daughter-in-law. I made that choice, and I am at peace with it. My father-in-law died just before the clock struck midnight on the day that the new Co-conveners would be elected. My year was up and I thought I was ready for a break.

But I should have known better. I didn't really want to take a break with so much still going on. We got our referendum! We needed to make sure that ARC got a place at the table in whatever referendum campaign came together. I wasn't able to take as much time off to work on Together for Yes as I wanted to, but I took a week off to work in HQ and I took every Wednesday off to work on the campaign for six weeks, trying to do bits and pieces whenever I could. I couldn't believe how many hundreds -- thousands -- of people were giving it their ALL. So many dedicated people giving up their time, putting blood, sweat, and tears into the campaign. And not just people who were already active. People I never even knew were pro-choice were canvassing every night!

And that was the amazing thing. I used to refer to the Abortion Rights Campaign as 'red-headed step-children' (pardon the American phrase) of the pro-choice movement. We weren't an NGO. We had new people in leadership positions all the time. We had non-hierarchical, anarchist-leaning ways of organising. We had the word Abortion in our name. We often felt like we had to fight tooth and nail for respect and recognition. But here we were, in the middle of this campaign that SO MANY people came out of the woodwork to support. We learned that we had been supported all along, since the beginning, even if the supporters didn't always make themselves known. Our work had paid off. The Together for Yes campaign used most of the ARC infrastructure built over the past five+ years and it just exploded in a burst of enthusiasm and energy.

But still, we weren't sure of winning. Right to the end, we weren't sure. Which is why, on Friday the 25th of May when the exit poll results were announced and we learned that we would win by a landslide, there were thousands of sobbing activists around Ireland and indeed the world.

I never worked for something so long and so hard in my entire life. And I have never felt part of something so big and so important. I know that anyone who played any part in the Yes campaign probably feels the same. Because we all did it, as the name says, together.

But when it came down to the end of the timeline leading up to referendum day, I decided that I'd do the fun stuff and I planned a party for the night of the results. I reserved a huge bar in city centre. I had no idea if anyone would come, but I made it open to everyone who had worked on any group in the campaign. And I was so happy because people came! And there was a great buzz about the place, though everyone was absolutely exhausted. It was a funny energy -- a mixture of happiness, relief, fatigue, surreal disbelief that it was over and we'd been victorious.

Then something magical happened. Dr. Groove fired up his laptop, we turned the volume up, and he started to play his DJ set. The next thing I knew, this room full of people who had, moments before, looked limp and fading, got up onto the dance floor and started dancing like nobody's business.

And that's when I started to cry. I realised that these were my people. I'll always love my friends and family back in America, but the people I've come to know here in Dublin are my found family. They accept me, they lift me up, they laugh at my terrible jokes, and they let me be part of this amazing movement. As I watched everyone dance I thought, "I can never leave here. This is where I am happy. This is my home."

After my father passed away, I felt like I would never feel real joy again. Grief is like that. But grief, I've realised, is what has motivated me to live a life that means something to me, that gives back to my community, that will serve the greater good, that brings me more joy than I thought possible and that I can look back on when it's my time to leave and say, I did some very cool things with some very nice people who loved me as much as I loved them.


Monday, May 1, 2017

A response to 'Abortion movement has been hijacked by the middle class'



Hi. You may not know me. In my spare time, I am one of the Co-conveners of the Abortion Rights Campaign (ARC), which you may have heard of because it's the largest abortion rights campaign in Ireland (we do what it says on the tin). I'm writing this on my own blog because these opinions are my own and do not represent ARC's views.

Today, we woke up to an article in the Irish Times by Kitty Holland, entitled, "Abortion movement has been hijacked by the middle class." I'm not going to attempt to summarise it. So I'm going to pick out specific points.

First off, I commend Kitty for being frank and open about her two abortions. I appreciate everything involved in writing about abortion from a personal perspective so publicly. It takes courage.

However, she says, "In October 2012, Savita Halappanavar’s death awakened a new generation to the abortion wars and in 2015 two brave women, Róisín Ingle and Tara Flynn, received nothing but support for speaking publicly about their abortions." I know this statement to be patently untrue. If I'm not mistaken, there was huge public outcry, including threats to their personal safety, causing much distress and the need to take a step back from social media. It was all there happening on social media in front of our eyes. I can't imagine being one of these two women reading such an inaccurate version of their own personal histories. How this made it to print without being fact checked surprises me.

In the article, she also writes about a once-off event, organised by the Repeal Project, held in the Olympia Theatre, as a fundraiser for the purpose of campaign work toward repealing the 8th Amendment. She says, "Despite three very brief, and very important contributions – from Senator Lynn Ruane and her daughter Jordanne, Traveller activist Eileen Flynn and poet Felicia Olusanyo – women from marginalised communities were, as far as I could see, almost wholly absent from both stage and audience ... Accessible abortion is essential if women are to achieve economic and political equality with men, and it is absolutely essential if the poorest, most marginalised women are to achieve economic and political equality with their middle-class sisters. I have not heard this basic argument articulated by Repeal campaign."

Here's my frustration. What do people think the 'Repeal campaign' is? The 'Repeal campaign' doesn't exist. There's a movement to repeal the 8th, yes. But something called the 'Repeal campaign' just flat out is a made up thing which any amount of journalistic research would have discovered.

Allow me to break down Irish pro-choice politics for you. First, we have The Coalition to Repeal the 8th Amendment. They are a coalition of organisations of all kinds, or a group of groups, who have signed on to support repealing the 8th. They're huge. They have 80-something organisations signed up. They do research, talk to politicians and other movers and shakers, and all in all do great work. They reach out to their member organisations, who in turn reach out to their members. Check out their website to see what they do -- it's inspiring and important. ARC is a proud member of the Coalition.

Then you've got independent projects like Hunreal Issues and the Repeal Project. These are basically run by individual people who dedicate a lot of time toward raising people's awareness and raising money through selling merchandise and holding events. They aren't campaigns. I repeat: they are not campaigns. And no, they aren't accessible to everyone. I myself have talked publicly about the paradox of the repeal jumpers and how they are not accessible, and I stand by that. Not everything pro-choice is going to be accessible if we are to reach the audience we need to, and to be perfectly frank, to raise the money needed to do the work of campaigning.

After independent projects, there are pro-choice groups created by political parties and universities. They reach out to their supporters by doing education, outreach, holding demos and rallies, and fundraising. They also do important work for specific groups of people.

There are also individuals acting as such or in interest groups such as Parents for Choice, who write blogs, articles, and are committed to the cause on social media. They also do important work in making people aware of all kinds of issues and how those issues intersect with reproductive rights.

And finally, we have the Abortion Rights Campaign. We are now an international campaign, with 20 Irish regional groups (north and south), a London group, a Scottish group, and a new group in the US. ARC Dublin has six working groups who meet at least once a month and a monthly Open Meeting that anyone can attend. The regional groups meet at least once a month also. Some working groups have sub-groups working on specific projects which meet regularly. There's also a monthly steering group meeting. So, in any given month, there are at least 35 ARC meetings happening. That's around 420+ meetings per year attended by literally hundreds of people. And that's just the meetings. From the meetings, we all go home and work on the action items decided on the meetings. Many of us are putting in as much or more time on ARC as a full time job.

Why do I mention ARC's work in this way? Because one of our chief concerns for years now has been inclusivity. If you go to abortionrights.ie, and hover your mouse over "ABOUT ARC," you'll see a drop down menu with one item: 'Values and Inclusivity." That's no mistake. Just two days ago, I was at an event co-hosted by the Anti-Racist Network and the Abortion Rights Campaign, and complained to a full room of people that despite our best efforts, the campaign was predominantly comprised of white middle-class women. Do you know what I was told? Basically, I was told to get over myself. But that's neither here nor there.

When people talk about the 'Repeal campaign,' most of the time they have no clue what that means. There are a LOT of people doing a LOT of things. Some of those people are trying to include marginalised communities. Some are not. But do your research, journalists. Know who you are talking about and know what they're doing before you go to the most widely read news outlets and criticise an entity that doesn't exist.

The Repeal Project, as it currently exists, is essentially a fundraising effort. If it gets middle class people to fork over their extra cash to pro-choice campaigns, then I say GREAT. Thank you for your money, here is an event or a jumper as a bonus/thank you, and we will do good work with it. Again: it isn't a campaign.

For those of us who have been trying to find innovative ways to include marginalised people, such as creating Women's Education Projects, inviting people from other groups such as the Trans Equality Network of Ireland to come speak to us on how to be more inclusive, supporting groups such as Sex-Workers Alliance Ireland or the Anti-Racist Network, translating our materials into foreign languages, it's extremely frustrating to wake up to read that someone we thought was a supportive voice in the media try to publicly take us down without even acknowledging us by name.

I feel sorry for the hundreds of people reading this article who work so hard, not just on reproductive rights, but doing it in such a way that constantly strives to improve and be more inclusive. We had a volunteer survey recently. From that, we've been trying to change the way we run meetings, so that everyone feels welcome. We are trying to partner with groups that involve people from marginalised groups in a way that isn't tokenistic. We invite them to speak at our marches. We try to talk about ways to hold space for them without being defensive about it. We remain open to suggestions.

When you conflate one event with an entire movement comprising thousands of hours of work done by volunteers, you effectively ignore all that work. As someone who spends a lot of time preoccupied with building the strongest grassroots campaign this country has ever known, it honestly just makes me sad. Because while we grow in leaps and bounds, we are watching ourselves being written out of history as it's happening.

You'll never hear me say that the pro-choice movement in Ireland isn't led by white middle class women. It completely is. But the reasons for that are extremely complex. (For one, middle class people have more time and more money.) And as we've found in ARC, simply wanting, no matter how desperately, to include them doesn't make it so. It's our biggest challenge and one we are constantly trying to solve. But we try. Despite being criticised heavily for it, we really, really try. And someday, I'd like to see an article about THAT struggle rather than a highlight of our apparent failure.