Breastfeed! Because All The Cool Lads Are Doing It

Posted on February 29, 2012 by Mohammad Modarres - University College Dublin

I have class M-F from 9 to 5  most weeks (is it just me, or is that the most intense schedule for a taught graduate degree?), so naturally by 4pm on Fridays my mind starts dozing elsewhere, dreaming about crossing over Dwayne Wade and hitting the winning shot to take the New York Knicks to the NBA Finals (Jeremy Lin is beating me to it).

On this particular Friday class we had a lecturer who was speaking about his work at a clinic north of the Liffey. Just as I began daydreaming, he mentioned that Ireland’s breastfeeding rate has risen to about 25%*.

Wait! What?!

In the last blog post, you learned about my love for sports and why it is more than just a game for me (click here for my predictions on Ireland’s 2012 Euro Cup run). In this post, you will learn about my other love – enhancing access to health resources and improving health care by through the design of communication programs that influence behavior change. (One of my dream jobs is to work on child health programs for the television program “Sesame Street” – check out “Sesame Street”’s new launch in Pakistan.)

Okay, back to breastfeeding. Probably the best part of my degree program in Ireland are my classmates who are from different parts of the world and have no problem expressing their opinions. For each module so far, there has usually been someone who has had extensive personal experiences on the discussed topic and who helps us better understand the practical situations attached to the subject, ultimately enhancing everyone’s academic experience. This time around, we were missing a student who was also a mom. I’d like to think that I could be a substitute, given my interest in neonatal care, my having been raised by a kindergarten teacher, and my having inherited the maternal instincts that seem to have skipped my older sister.

Shocked at how low the breastfeeding rate is in Ireland, I asked my Irish classmates why this is and got answers including: mothers not being provided much support or counseling during the “fifth trimester,” public discomfort with public breastfeeding, breast milk being viewed as unhealthy after World War II, and mothers being told that formula—introduced to the Irish in the mid 1950s—is a viable option for working mothers. Curious to see what random Dubliners thought about how long a mother should breastfeed, I got a mix of answers ranging from “none, because it’s embarrassing” to “you don’t have to for more than six months.” (Imagine how awkward it was having these conversations! Story of my life…)

One of the most interesting classes I ever took during my undergraduate years at Johns Hopkins discussed the perception of motherhood in the media (I was one of three guys in a class of about 20, so you bet we stayed quiet). I learned that breastfeeding is recommended for about two years (yes, ‘a dó’ for you Gaelic speakers) or more, and that a child should have breast milk exclusively for the first six months since it has everything the child needs for proper development. Studies have shown that breastfeeding helps protect the child from illnesses including diarrhea and pneumonia–which are two main causes of early childhood deaths around the world. The benefits continue after breastfeeding stops. Breastfed babies are less likely to be overweight, and have food allergies or diabetes. While breastfeeding is great for the child, it also helps mothers lose post-pregnancy weight in a healthy way and reduces a mother’s chance of getting breast and ovarian cancer. So what’s the deal? Why is less than 5% of the Irish population breastfeeding?*

The typical problems are the first ones most people will think of. Time:  How can a mother schedule her time around feeding a child every couple of hours as she tries to maintain a work schedule? What about if she has problems producing enough milk? What if she is in pain (a problem few mothers speak out about)? What if she feels embarrassed? Why even bother when you can just use formula, which is the same, right?

But what is actually so bad about formula? First, it does not provide the child as many nutrients as breast milk. Formula is also expensive. Many children die every year because of formula that is diluted too much by parents who try to make the solution last longer, not realizing how deadly this is for the child. Also, formula is dependent on clean water and in many developing countries that is hard to find. In cases where formula has been used but becomes unavailable, chances are slim that a mother can go back to breastfeeding since she has lost a significant amount of her milk production.  HIV+ mothers in developing areas who have little access to clean water are still encouraged to exclusively breastfeed for the first six months (adding solid foods to the mix increases a child’s level of transmission). HIV+ mothers in developed areas (where clean water is available) are not recommended to breastfeed but rather to find alternative methods.

I would like to see three changes in Irish society to better promote breastfeeding, from the hospital to the office.

The Irish could learn from the Iranians, who initiated a mandatory two-hour family planning class for couples applying for a marriage certificate (along with other interventions that have led to a very effective family planning program). Such a class could include breastfeeding.

The role of the community is crucial. In a country like Ireland where religious beliefs have historically influenced how  a woman can treat her own body, the Irish must refocus on how women are treated in all aspects of health.

The services that are provided to mothers from antenatal to postpartum reflect this. While paid maternity leave has increased to about 26 weeks, new mothers should be allowed an additional six months to properly feed their children without any pressure to go back to work. Interestingly, working mothers actually have higher initial breastfeeding rates than those who don’t, showing how influential education is to initiating breastfeeding. Adjustments should be made in all facets of life. Malls, restaurants, and offices should have designated spaces where mothers can feel comfortable feeding their children and putting them to sleep. Who likes to lunch sitting on a toilet? Then why should a newborn have to be fed by her mother in a smelly bathroom?!

The role of the health professional and health system must also change:

1. No health professional should be allowed to recommend formula when the mother can breastfeed.

2. No formula company should be allowed to provide free samples and market their products in or around health care facilities. Many US organizations are pushing to get formula products labeled with health warnings similar to cigarettes. While Irish hospitals continue to give out free formula samples (which are given in a kit with a bottle, a couple of diapers, and other baby supplies), this is in violation of World Health Organization’s International Code of Marketing of Breastmilk Substitutes (1981). Rather, doctors must voice their concerns about formula, work with the Irish government to ban the solution and its aggressive advertisements from health facilities, require the restoration of funds for breastfeeding clinics that have been shut down across the Island, and give out their own free kits.

3. While formula seems to be the only option a mother has at the hospital if she cannot produce milk to feed her child in the first hours after birth, “breastfeeding help” can be recommended with available bottled breast milk until the mother has had time to relax and produce milk properly after counseling.

4. Because the general practitioner is the first health professional mothers go to for their health needs, the doctor must educate the mother about breastfeeding during pregnancy and after giving birth.

5. Surprisingly, Ireland lacks a nationwide monitoring system for breastfeeding. This is something that can start and end with the general practitioner who can collect the mother’s feeding rates at specific times. This is vital in order to better monitor and evaluate the situation and to work on how to increase the national breastfeeding rate.

Now don’t get me wrong, US and many many other countries are in the same situation. While American mothers start off breastfeeding at just above 70%, they fall to 40-something after six months, and just over a quarter percent at the one year mark. In parts of Africa, there is belief that you cannot have sex with a mother who is breastfeeding! This has created a massive stigma,  which has helped create a market for formula.  I’m writing about Ireland’s breastfeeding rate in particular because I live here at the moment, but also because  Ireland has the youngest population in Europe. One of the first things I notice every time I come back to Ireland after visiting another European country is the abundance of babies. This year, Ireland had its highest birth rate since 1861 (walk around the main streets of Maynooth and you’re bound to trip over a baby stroller or two). Besides having one of the highest birth rates in Europe, Ireland also has one of the fastest-growing child and adult obesity rates in the region).

If nothing in this post has gotten you to think more about breastfeeding, I hope actress-activist Salma Hayek can change your mind! We need to change our perception of breastfeeding around the world to create a culture that accepts the most natural way of feeding our newborns, so that we can ultimately create a healthier Ireland, United States, and global community.

*While initiation rates are higher than 25% in Ireland, this percentage is the estimate of mothers who continued to breastfeed for the first six weeks. This number falls to less than 1% of Irish nationals who exclusively breastfeed after the six month time period, according to a 2008 study. Although recent findings show that mothers who were breastfed are more likely to do so themselves, Ireland has lost a great portion of their last generation to mothers who used formula.

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The Old and the New

Posted on February 29, 2012 by jmoldovan12

A cactus and a sheep make an odd couple. Let me explain. I began the new year very far away from Ireland, visiting my best friend who is doing research in Buenos Aires. We took a road trip to the northwest region of Argentina, traveling through unbelievable landscapes where red rock mountains peppered with enormous and sometimes hilariously shaped cacti quickly transitioned into lush green hills. Spending our first year out of college in new places far from our homes, we spent much of our trip talking about our different abroad experiences and our attempts to understand and become a part of our respective homes for the year. Despite the differences—she spends her days conversing in Spanish as a lone researcher in a sunny place where dinner begins at 9 PM (and there are alpacas, but no sheep)—I was most struck by our similar feelings that speak more to where we are in life than to our physical surroundings. One year out, we both have a never-ending list of questions about what we want to do, what will make us happy, and how best to contribute to the world and to engage with the people we care about. We are both loving our time abroad but acknowledged how hard it was to be away from the people in our lives and the worlds we had formed in the past four years (and, Mom and Dad, the last twenty-two as well!).

Following my trip, I spent a week at home surrounded by my family and friends. I admit that I was a little sad to leave them and return to Dublin, but back to the Emerald Isle I went. Greeted by the irreplaceable and incomparable Sam, I quickly perked up. During that first week, I made plans with a classmate, booked two trips with fellow Mitchells, and found a weekly traditional music and poetry event that has since become a staple in my time here. The phrases “What’s the craic?” “That’s deadly,” and “Your man” no longer sound foreign to me and, at least in my head, I no longer sound bizarre saying them. To cap it off, I even introduced an Irish friend of mine to a pub he had never heard of, much to his surprise.

With this new sense of comfort and familiarity has come an inability to comprehend that my time in Ireland is halfway done. Rather than sequestering myself in the library, which I have a tendency to do, I have made it a point to explore as much as possible. My recent trip to Galway with Chelsea (where we saw Katie in an awesome play!) has proved to me that my love of cliffs, water, and sheep will never wane. I am also very happy that I can travel with friends and family who will be visiting me in the next month so that I can enjoy Donegal, Connemara, and Belfast with a bit of home thrown in, as well as act as a tour guide in Dublin.

In addition to personal reflection, my time away abroad has allowed for thought about the States and the perhaps unavoidable comparisons that come from living in another country. In the past few weeks, my inbox has been flooded with New York Times updates and subsequent e-mail chains about the ongoing battles over women’s health. In Ireland, I attended a Seanad debate with my classmates about a controversial bill that was recently introduced, which would mandate that women comprise at least 30 % of candidates put forward by political parties in the next general election. If parties fail to do so, their funding will be halved. Ireland would join a number of other European countries if it passed this gender quota legislation. The United States ranks 71st in the world for women’s political representation and Ireland ranks 79th. To me, these statistics are astonishing and reveal a tremendous amount about what issues get swept under the rug in both countries. Although I feel removed and yearn to participate in the debates and advocacy happening in the States (and hopefully next year I will figure out a way to do so), it has been interesting to speak with feminist actors here whose sentiments and frustrations I’ve both heard expressed at home and share. I am very appreciative of those who have taken the time to enlighten and involve me over here and those at home who read to the end of my long, sometimes rant-like e-mails.

As the days pass, it becomes increasingly clear to me that my world is expanding to include new places, new language, new knowledge, and new people to think and care about. I suppose part of the fear of post-college life is that everyone scatters, people’s routines change, friendships shift, and uncertainty becomes a way of life for at least a little while. This year so far has allowed me to expand on the new and reflect on and appreciate the old. It has also enabled me to pursue a balance that I did not quite achieve in college (according to past Mitchell blogs, I’m not alone!). The image of the cactus and the sheep – one resilient, resolutely anchored, and sharp and the other relaxed, nomadic, and, well, fluffy—does not quite capture the yin and yang that I am trying to describe, but I feel that (prepare for cheesiness) no symbol would really do this year justice.

Pictures!

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Break a Leg

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Kathryn Van Winkle - NUI Galway

When I last wrote, I was traveling home to the US, excited to be be going on tour to Princeton with the Austin theatre company the Rude Mechanicals. Well, on our opening night, I fell off the stage, sprained my ankle, and broke my foot. Specifically, I broke the fifth metatarsal on my left foot—the same bone fellow Mitchell David Gobaud broke on his right foot over these same holidays. What are the odds?

There was a doctor in the house, the show did go on, and I soon learned that although navigating an airport on crutches sounds like a hassle, it’s actually the best way to travel: kind airport employees push you around in a wheelchair or drive you around on a cart, and you get to skip all the lines! I spent my holidays recuperating and trying the patience of my family and friends. On January 9, I returned to Galway, and my mother came along to help me settle in—and to enjoy some trad sessions in the pubs. Thanks, Mom. You’re a treasure!

So far I’ve had three weeks of classes—Reviewing Theatre in Ireland, Screenwriting, Post-Dramatic Theatre, and a series of workshops with members of Galway’s Druid Theatre—and I’m rehearsing for a role in Sarah Ruhl’s play The Clean House. I had some big plans—directing a classmate’s one-act play, New Year’s in Prague, learning surfing and Irish dancing, volunteering at a local school—that I had to cancel or postpone due to my injury. And my free time has been swallowed up by the sheer effort of getting places. And then recovering from the exhaustion of getting places.

But there are compensations. I walk slowly, and I notice more. I try new walking routes, seeking even, dry ground and safe crossings. When I stop and take a break I see herons and old mill wheels, children clutching handmade St. Brigid’s crosses from class and teenage girls hiding in the lee of the church, smoking surreptitious cigarettes. I find new favorite resting spots: the tapas bar on Lower Dominick, the Asian Tea House on Mary, the French bistro open until 4 am, the department store café that overlooks the river.

My visible injury has reversed the direction of the gaze. In the fall I experienced Ireland as something new and unfamiliar to peer at and study and understand. Now I am made strange—and everyone wants to talk about it, trading sympathy and stories of their own horrible accidents. Just today a man stopped his car on a busy street to lean out his window and ask me to settle a bet: skiing or horseback riding? Once a new acquaintance learns my accident occurred onstage, it’s an almost physical effort for him or her to refrain making a “break a leg!” joke. Most succumb to the pressure.

My favorite teasing response, though, was from a cab driver: “Next time, don’t jump off the stage before it rolls to a full stop!” As in stagecoach.

I take a lot of cabs lately (otherwise I’d be late to everything). From these men—and one woman! the first female cab driver I’ve ever met!—I’ve learned about the broadcasting tax, the city’s Congolese community, the danger of re-enacting Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris films, the best traditional music pub I’d never heard of, and the difference between “Galwegians” and “townies” (the former resident in the city, the latter born and bred in the old center). Thanks a million, lads.

–Katie

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Nearing the Halfway Mark

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Katie Marcum - University College Dublin

I’ve been back in Dublin for two and a half weeks now, after a very good and lengthy visit with my family and friends back in West Virginia. Finals went very well, provisional grades have been released, and this semester’s classes are starting.  It’s shaping up to be another great semester, and I can’t believe that it’s already February! Before I go on to things that I’ve been up to and am planning, I’d just like to comment on how beautiful Dublin is at Christmas time—it’s a very celebrated holiday here, and the number of lights and festive decorations were unlike any I’d seen before. The city of Dublin and its residents get excited about Christmas, and the Grafton Street area especially buzzes with holiday cheer. The displays were absolutely magical on cold nights with the happy sounds of child-sized carolers cutting through the crowds. It’s too bad I didn’t really get to experience snow in Ireland, although it did snow on December 16, the day that I left for home. After last year’s heavy snowstorms (which apparently stopped all activities for several days!), my friends here were so glad that this winter has been more typical.
Being back after my winter break is a bit surreal, for a number of reasons–primarily the fact that my experience here is nearing the halfway mark. With that in mind, I’m moving on to things that I absolutely need to do before this experience comes to a close. I’ve got a lot of things planned this semester in the way of traveling, especially after classes end in April—I’m planning a few trips to places I’m very excited to visit, both in Ireland and elsewhere in Europe. I’ll also be traveling a bit in the next few weeks: the Mitchell Scholars are having a mid-year retreat in Belfast, and in March we are traveling to Belgium for a few days kindly organized by the Irish Mission in Brussels. The trip to Belgium will be my first time on the continent, and that’s very exciting. I think I am going to take a few days on the end of that trip to explore more of the area and perhaps take the train to Paris. La ville de l’amour! I’m also determined to see more of the very active Irish theatre community during this “half,” and I’m off to a good start, with three great performances lined up in these next few weeks—a great amount compared to the single show I took in last semester.

Since I’ve returned, I’ve been busy trying to explore more of Dublin—a goal that may seem a bit strange since I’ve been living here for several months. But I am conscious of time, and I want to have as many experiences in this lovely city as I can before I go. A friend and I are back to what we have lovingly dubbed our “Saturday explorations,” which we began in earnest at the beginning of last semester but which were seriously derailed toward the end of the semester—visitors and reading and exams put a definite crunch on the amount of time we could spend together. The first weekend back, though, we made our way downtown to shop for necessities and look around streets and shops we’ve never been to before. We enjoyed strolling around in search of ethnic food markets (there are several interesting stores off the O’Connell Street area) and visiting the Temple Bar markets, where we are well-known for our indulgent enjoyment of the Good Life’s spit-roasted delicacies. Even with our long absence, we’re known as regulars, and it’s a great feeling to have something like that in this place. I’m looking forward to finding even more special places and things before I go.

In addition and related to the abstract concept of “time,” I’ve been thinking a lot these last few days about service and the dreaded “career.” Yesterday, fellow Mitchell Mohammad Modarres and I met with two representatives from UCD’s Ad Astra Academy scholarship program. The Academy has approached us to share our experiences as competitive undergraduates and as Mitchell Scholars with first-year students in the program, which offers opportunities for students who excelled academically, in the performing arts, or in sports while in secondary school (high school). Although no date has been set, I’ve certainly been thinking about “after” Mitchell and “before” as a way to to connect the things that you are passionate about with things that are beneficial (both for you and for others). This opportunity for reflection comes at a time when I’m looking toward my own post-Mitchell future, and I think it will be a great way to organize my thoughts and expectations while helping one of these first-year students create their own map for the future.

I’m aware that this entire blog entry makes it seem as though I’m counting down the minutes until my Mitchell year is over, but in reality that is far from the case. Most days I simply try to live as they come, and it’s only at times like these when I pause in deliberate reflection, aware that the clock appears to be ticking toward some great impending change. These last few days, however, I’ve been reading a lot of Irish and Appalachian poetry while preparing to organize my thoughts into what will hopefully be a reasonable thesis proposal, and I’m comforted by a few of my favorite lines from West Virginia’s poet laureate, Dr. Irene McKinney. As I think of them, I’m reminded of the friends I’ve made here, the friends I’ve left behind, and, as I said in my last entry, the places we’re all going:

Listen: there is a vein that runs
Through the earth from top to bottom
And both of us are in it.
One of us is always burning.
–Irene McKinney, “Deep Mining”

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The Thread Connecting It All

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Chelsea Caveny - NUI Maynooth

Growing up, I had an unusual obsession with the world of professional surfing. I didn’t grow up on the water. And even if I had, in Mississippi that water would have been almost completely devoid of waves. Nobody in my family surfs. I’m not even sure I knew anyone who had ever surfed, even just once, when my obsession began. For whatever reason, I chose to adopt the World Championship Tour, Kelly Slater and Roxy/Quicksilver as the sole focus of my 14-year-old mind.  But eventually, I grew up, found some more practical interests, and had almost forgotten about the love of my life–that is, until I moved to Ireland.

At the beginning of the year I went to the clubs and societies day at the National University of Ireland-Maynooth. I spent half a day walking around a large gymnasium learning about all sorts of clubs (the Trampoline Jumping Society and wine tasting stand out as a few of the more unique clubs). As I made my way, I lost all the maturity I thought I had gained during my years in college and my time in Ireland, and I was once again a 14-year-old with an odd but overwhelming obsession with surfing. There in the corner, with a board propped behind their table, was the NUIM Surf Club. I quickly paid my 2 euro joining fee and became an official member.

Throughout the year the Surf Club hosts weekend trips to the west of Ireland to surf in some frigid waters along with one international trip to a warmer destination. This year the international trip happened to be to Morocco, and I wasted no time in signing up.

I’m proud to say that just a week ago, my childhood dream came true and I finally got on a surfboard. And not only did I get on a surfboard, I actually rode some waves! I could tell all sorts of stories about Morocco–the food (yummy), the beach (beautiful), the culture–but the real reason I even brought up my surf obsession has much more to do with Ireland than North Africa.

Ireland has turned out to be the perfect sort of connecting thread that brings together all my life experiences. There is the concrete reality of living in Ireland that is opening doors for me (i.e., like seeing the world through the Surf Club☺). But also, on a more theoretical level, thoughts and interests that I’d held in separate cavities of my brain, are now being worked into conversations together, all with Ireland at the very center.

A few days ago I walked into a class to watch a short documentary about housing and race relations in South Africa. While living in South Africa in the summer of 2010, I met the filmmaker whose film I was now watching in my classroom in Maynooth. In a discussion that followed the film, my classmates referenced race relations in Mississippi in connection with the fight for affordable quality housing in inner-city Dublin. That is just one example, but I continually find myself pleasantly surprised at how it all works together.

I had had doubts about how my very specific interests in Mississippi would translate to Irish policy discussions, but they flow much more naturally than I ever imagined. It seems the center of my world is shifting from the Deep South to an island with a big impact across the ocean.

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Being a Tourist

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Elizabeth Katz - Dublin City University

For many years, I have utterly detested the sight of cameras strewn around necks and gawking eyes open wide with astonishment.  Overloaded sojourners stopped in the middle of sidewalks and even streets near designated tourist sights drive me crazy.  I have preferred going incognito and immersing myself in the life of Buenos Aires or experiencing the workweek at the Taizé monastery in the south of France.  But the Mitchell experience does not lend itself to that sort of travel.  Quick weekends abroad or family visits for explicit tourist purposes have forced me to develop an appreciation for what I used to consider the worst of tourist phenomena.

Not surprisingly, living in Europe reduces the cost of European travel.  My first opportunity came during Reading Week (a mid-semester break) at the beginning of November.  Coordinating with other Mitchells, we decided to visit Scotland, even though it would be my second time.  In 2006, the University of Georgia Honors Program offered a seminar class on Scotland with a spring break travel component.  While we completed a typical tourist itinerary, we traveled with a professor and his Scottish family, so I never felt fully like a tourist.  The Scottish Highlands were one of the most beautiful places I had ever been, and I wanted to share them with my partner and the other Mitchells.  When we arrived, however, I discovered what it meant to really be a tourist.  No one knew us; nothing was taken care of.  Gawking made it all worth it.  Sure, I pestered our tour bus driver about his opinion on possible Scottish independence, but I discovered this whole taking pictures thing wasn’t that bad.  Granted, I didn’t actually take pictures.  I was only really warming up to the idea of others’ photographic endeavors.  As Mitchell classmate Jess Moldovan was framing shots, I began to appreciate the people, places, and things in the photographs even more.

Chelsea Caveny, Jess Moldovan, Rachel Herrmann, and Betsy Katz in Scotland

That appreciation prepared me for my parents’ arrival in mid-December and our subsequent mad dash around the perimeter of Ireland.  As my mom did the driving, I started to take her camera “for her.” In Belfast, I wanted pictures of the Christmas market (though I didn’t tell anyone).  When we stopped at Giant’s Causeway, I begged my mom to take a picture of me on top of the enormous stacks of basalt.  As we sped through the countryside, I attempted to capture the strong Irish horses on film for my equestrian-enthusiast mother.  I graciously stole the camera at the Cliffs of Moher, catching shot after shot of my parents and even a short video of my partner upset at the closure of the chief viewing tower.  By the time we arrived in Dingle, I not only delighted in the enormous beauty of the place where the Atlantic Ocean meets Ireland but also appreciated the memory-saving photography.

Waving from Giant's Causeway!

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On Coffee and Culture

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Sam Yates - Trinity College Dublin

I woke up early last Friday morning to essentially do one thing: get free coffee. If you have spent any time with me, I have probably waxed poetic about my desire for coffee. What might surprise you is that I until this morning, I had no coffeemaker of my own here in Dublin. My kitchen came furnished with an electric kettle, so it seemed silly to purchase a coffeemaker that I’d eventually have to leave behind. Thus began a long, arduous battle with myself, as I was torn between feeling that I should just purchase instant coffee and wanting to go to a shop and have a proper cup of brew.

During my first few weeks in Ireland, my funds hadn’t yet hit my bank account (everything in Ireland moves much more slowly than I had expected), so I was living on cash (i.e., the cheap) until greater financial security arrived. My first day, jet-lagged and a bit delirious, I wandered into a grocery store to purchase some staples and I picked up the cheapest canister of instant coffee they had: GRANAROM. I figured that it would hold me, so I took it home and eagerly fixed myself a cup.

It was awful.

Perhaps, I thought, I’m simply not preparing it right.  I added cinnamon. I put in my soy milk. Brown sugar.  Tried making it stronger. Making it weaker.  After about 10 cups of tests, and 10 cups of disappointment, I gave up Granarom as a bad job.

So, since the first week of September, a jar of instant coffee has sat on my pantry shelf, waiting for use as I rummaged, rearranged, and selected every other item in the vicinity.  I hated to throw it away, as there was nothing wrong with it; I just didn’t care for the taste. It seemed wasteful, and you never know, maybe it would be necessary one day.  It would suffice in a caffeine-craving pinch come dissertation time.

Friday morning, however, I said goodbye to my old friend Granarom.  Bewley’s Cafe (a famous Dublin establishment cum coffee company, established in the mid-1800s) has declared this their Coffee Amnesty Weekend. If you were one of the first 1,000 people to bring in your jar of instant coffee to the main Bewley’s on Grafton Street, they would trade your jar for a free single-person cafetière and a starter pack of 5 different brew blends for you to experiment with. After waking up, responding to emails and having my morning breakfast of fruit, granola and yogurt, I gleefully packed my canister in my bag and set off in the cold toward Bewley’s.

It was strangely sad, I admit, placing my jar of Granarom into the wicker basket with other half-used jars–a cemetery for jaded java dreams.  Walking back to my kitchen at Trinity, I unwrapped the box and brewed my first pot.

Heaven.

In giving up a vestige of my first day in Ireland, I have gained a much more practical (and satisfying) prize: better coffee at home, at a much lower cost.

I still have other things to remind me of my first day in Ireland, I tell myself.  For example, I carry my cell phone (the first thing I sought out when I got off the plane, so I could safely utilize the much-needed Google maps feature) with me everywhere. Still, the Granrom was something different: it was a daily reminder of a mistake–improvidence–naiveté–and a token of how far I’ve come in learning to be self-sufficient as an adult who has to cook, clean, shop for lightbulbs (and return lightbulbs, and pay attention to correct wattage)–all in a new city, new country, new culture.

Sitting, typing this while drinking a freshly brewed cup of coffee, I own up the the fact that while I will not miss the ne’er-pleasing aftertaste of my Granarom, that jar has taught me a few good lessons over the past five months.

Over the past five months (has it only been five?! it seems like I have been living here far longer—and yet, much shorter!), I have learned so much about the person I am, and the person I want to be.  Despite my own  wonderful study abroad experiences as an undergraduate through Centre College, I would have found it presumptuous to call myself a “global citizen” before my time in Ireland.  Now, my experience as a Mitchell has allowed me to become exactly that.

It’s difficult to articulate exactly how multi-faceted the experience of being a Mitchell Scholar is. Though I am working harder than ever, I am also having a fantastic time.  Mitchells are spread throughout the island of Ireland, but, in my case, all roads lead to Dublin.  Living in the city center, I’m never more than a few blocks away from a traditional music festival, a speech at the National Gallery, or a matinee at the National Theatre.

The position of being an American immersed in a foreign culture provides a range of discourse outside the traditional US educational realm.  As a Mitchell Scholar, you get used to interacting with creatives, business people, and policymakers from both the United States and Ireland, such as local Senators and U.S. Ambassador Dan Rooney. This experience extends beyond the island: in March, for example, the ’12 Mitchells are traveling to Brussels to tour the European Commission and Parliament.  I can’t tell you how many discussions on business innovation or economic modeling I’ve found myself in; though I hold no formal training or expertise in the area, I have learned how to be an active listener, as well as to productively contribute with my own opinions as an artist. (In Ireland, the artist is seen as contributing substantially to the economy – indeed, the arts rank high as a national export and tourist feature, to say nothing of their enrichment of national culture.)

As a student in theater and performance studies, I’ve found not only these formal events, but also everyday, intimate interactions to be an incredible learning experience, both personally and artistically. They have challenged my thoughts and beliefs, and forced me to interrogate my own experience of being an American.  I hate having to bracket an observation or question with, “As an American,” but I’ve found that it’s sometimes necessary for to convey a point: in spite of all the broad similarities between Ireland and the US, there are also nuanced beliefs, communication practices, and social mores at play.

My work in the Literary Department of the Abbey Theatre Amharclann na Mainistreach (the National Theatre of Ireland) has proven a fascinating contrast to other theatre work I’ve done in the United States—particularly my experiences with the Eugene O’Neill Theatre Center.   Both literary offices dedicate much of their time to the cultivation and support of new work, yet the conversations surrounding the process are quite distinct.  I find myself increasingly interested in the ways that subsidized art systems inform the creation of dramatic works speaking to issues of nationalism, and the greater emphasis on artist cultivation rather than project development (although the latter, of course, still happens).  Too large a topic for an M.Phil dissertation, to be sure–especially once you add in a comparative discussion of other national theaters and the US, which conspicuously lacks a national producing company). Ah, well … food for doctoral thought?

On that note, I will sign off and head to work. Today is a busy one: activities for the opening night of ”I (heart) Alice (heart) I” on the Abbey’s Peacock stage, a meeting on possibly being dramaturg for a production, and continued work on my dissertation proposal (to be presented tomorrow!).

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Contradicting Myself

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Anise Vanse - Queen's University Belfast

Almost halfway through.   One would think that at this point in my Mitchell year I would have a firm grasp on identity processes and divisions in Belfast.  The opposite is true.

On this very blog, I wrote that the emerging younger generation of Belfast residents might drastically influence history in Northern Ireland by virtue of their peaceful, cosmopolitan, and pluralist attitudes.  In the past couple of months, that simple assertion has been complicated by an urban geography jam-packed with class issues, continued segregation, and mistrust.  I am, by nature, a short-term cynic and long-term optimist.  I fixate on the problems we face in the here-and-now, while projecting a positive vision of the future.  Belfast’s here-and-now is ripe with issues.
Housing and unemployment, major problems that helped ignite the Troubles, continue to plague inner-city working-class communities (both Protestant and Catholic).  Belfast’s City Council has renewed its emphasis on community centers and organizations, but funding for preventive programs is scarce and the effects of that scarcity are sometimes violent.  With the so-called “peace money” dwindling, belts on all bellies are  tightening and the consequences–especially in areas where locals often describe Belfast’s current tranquility as a “bought peace” –could be dire.  Throw in a Scotland that seems to be on the verge of independence (a move that has begun stimulating debate in Northern Ireland) and one would not be irrational in stating that Belfast’s short-term future prospects may not be all roses and no thorns.
Attitudes and perceptions of the city and its future vary drastically from neighborhood to neighborhood.  By and large, the middle and upper classes see the next decade as one full of opportunity.  Downtown Belfast, rebuilt as a retail utopia and neutral space, is often cited as evidence of positive change.  On my last walkthrough, however, I noticed a plethora of retailers announcing close-out sales.  Unable to get into the black during Christmas, many shops are closing their doors.  I recalled a conversation I had a few months ago with a friend.  We wondered how a metropolitan area of only a few hundred thousand people (mostly working class folk) could possibly support such an enormous amount of luxury retail.
Less than four months ago, Belfast was vibrating with positivity.  Downtown seemed to be doing fine and the European Music Awards were going to be held in the city.  Belfast was on the map.  I hope that the optimism wafting through the streets was justified.  Any return to the violence of the latter half of the 20th century would be truly tragic.  There are, however, numerous obstacles that stand in the way of a sustainable bright future.
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Base of the Fifth Metatarsal

Posted on February 13, 2012 by David Gobaud - Queen's University Belfast

Today I write to you about the base of the Fifth Metatarsal. No, unfortunately not an exotic European mountain range, but the location of a broken bone in my foot! A week before Christmas, while taking out the trash, I slipped on a dumpster lid that was left on the ground in the dark, back hallway, of my dorm. At first I thought (and hoped…) it was just a really bad sprain. Unfortunately an X-ray the next day confirmed there was a break. I suffered a Jones fracture – a break at the base of the fifth metatarsal. I’ve been in a cast for almost two months now. The first two weeks when I was on crutches and instructed to keep weight off the foot were the worst, especially since I live on the second floor. Now I can limp around, and luckily my dorm is very close to restaurants and grocery stores. The biggest concern is that 25 percent of Jones fractures require surgery. I’m going back to the doctor in a week and am hopeful the break will show signs of healing. Below is a picture of me drying the cast with a hairdryer after it got wet.

More exciting and fun news involves meeting former Mitchell Scholars. I had a wonderful chat with Kathleen Claussen ’07 when she visited Belfast in the fall. It was great to hear about her time studying at Queen’s and learning about her experience at Yale Law. She is now serving as an Assistant Legal Counsel to the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague. I also met Erin Breeze ’01 – one of the first Mitchell Scholars. Erin is the executive director of Seeking Common Ground and was in town to explore developing a class in collaboration with the University of Denver’s Graduate School of Social Work. The graduate level class would provide an opportunity to explore and critically analyze social work responses to Northern Ireland issues. She invited fellow scholars Anise Vance, Bree Hocking (Mitchell class of ’09 and current Queen’s PhD student), Derick Stace-Naughton, Ivanley Noisette, and me to dinner in Belfast at Made in Belfast. The food was incredible! Erin was hoping to introduce us to her favorite Irish dessert, banoffee, but unfortunately the restaurant did not have it. Luckily I found it a few days later at the superb little restaurant Cafe Renoir less than a block from my dorm. I now visit Cafe Renoir regularly and enjoy their fabulous hot chocolate and amazing pizzas. I also frequent Maggie May’s and have had just about everything on the menu at this point. I just tried the chicken curry the other day and it is my new favorite dish.


Back row: Anise Vance, David Gobaud, Bree Hocking
Front row: Erin Breeze, Ivanley Noisette, Derick Stace-Naughton

I also attended a Thanksgiving reception at the Northern Ireland Assembly with Bree and Derick. At the event we met Kevin S. Roland, the U.S. Consul General for Belfast.


Left to right: Derick Stace-Naughton, U.S. Consul General for Belfast Kevin S. Roland, David Gobaud, Bree Hocking

Currently I’m preparing for winter semester classes. I greatly enjoyed my classes last semester and am excited about winter classes starting. I’m most looking forward to Governing the Public Sector in a Globalised Context. The class covers modernization of the public sector, e-government, and government 2.0. In my spare time I’ve also returned to taking some computer science classes–online. Last semester I took Stanford’s online machine learning class. The class was phenomenal and I learned a significant amount. I had wanted to take the class while at Stanford but I didn’t have time. I’m currently going through the lectures and assignments for Stanford’s iPhone Application Development class and am thinking about developing an iPhone application soon. The potential benefit from the online education revolution is nothing short of monumental.

As I have continued to settle in Belfast, one thing I keep noticing is the different pace of life here. Things do seem to be a bit slower than in Washington, D.C –for instance, how many services that are 24/7 in the US are not so over here. I recently had to ship a package via FedEx. I called FedEx’s US number to schedule the pickup and they directed me to the UK number, but the operator let me know they are not open 24/7 in the UK.   Businesses definitely operate differently here!

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Settling In

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Ivanley Noisette - University of Ulster, Jordanstown

This month I will begin semester two of the Mitchell Scholar year. All continues to go well academically and professionally. I began working with the Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities (NICEM) last month and everyday I’m learning more about minority access to employment, housing, and the legal system in Northern Ireland. NICEM’s staff is dedicated and passionate about equal rights and justice for all people living in Northern Ireland. NICEM works in the following areas:
• Legislation and campaigning (promoting equality)
• Support to migrants
• Support to victims of harassment and discrimination
• Anti-racism training
• Capacity building (support the growth of the social economy)

Later this month, the Mitchell Scholars in the south will visit Belfast and we will spend five days with one another, meeting with community groups, journalists, and elected officials. We will also tour places like Giant’s Causeway and the various murals around the city. I’m looking forward to meeting with everyone again—it’s been a few months since we have all been together.
During the holidays I traveled to Poland, Germany, and England with friends and people from the program. This is one of the great benefits of the Mitchell year—the opportunity to explore different countries and build relationships with people from all over the world. We will all travel to Belgium in a couple months and most of us plan to visit a few other countries during spring break (Austria, France, Greece, and Spain are all potential options right now).

During the next few months I’m going to visit the countryside with some of my classmates from the north. There are so many beautiful areas in the north and the south that I will not have an opportunity to see them all, but I will try to make it to the Blarney Stone and Galway before my next blog post.

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Belfast: Part 2

Posted on February 2, 2012 by Derick Stace-Naughton - University of Ulster, Jordanstown

For the first time this year, I spent the holiday season away from home.  And though I missed Wisconsin (a place often known to my Belfast friends only as the setting of “That ’70s Show”), it was a true delight to spend the holidays with other Mitchells and Northern Ireland friends.  In fact, I attended more Thanksgiving celebrations this year than I ever have!

The University of Ulster held an informal Thanksgiving potluck event for international students; scores of UU classmates (from all over the world) attended.  The most exciting part of the evening—besides the turkey and home-made pies—was the chance to spend a distinctly American holiday with so many students from other countries, all of whom were eager to learn about the Thanksgiving tradition.  For me, explaining the story of the Pilgrims to students from all over Europe crystallized the intercultural understanding that lies at the heart of any exchange program.

Later that week I got the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving again at Stormont, the Northern Ireland Parliament buildings, with a group of American students, Northern Ireland officials, representatives of the American consulate, and others.  Once again, I was thrilled by the way that my Northern Ireland hosts so embraced the American holiday; MLAs (government officials in Northern Ireland) and other Belfast locals were eager to understand Thanksgiving and to talk about their own travels to America.  The event even featured a table full of turkey-cranberry-stuffing sandwiches!

A final Thanksgiving celebration took place in Dublin with a cohort of fellow Mitchells, hosted by an Irish businessman, Niall O’Farrell.  As a future student of business (I recently accepted a place in the Stanford Graduate School of Business’s Class of 2014!), I was excited to learn about our host’s experience building an incredibly successful countrywide business (Mr. O’Farrell started the Blacktie formalwear chain) from the ground up.  And of course it was a pleasure to celebrate the holiday with the rest of the Mitchell class.

By the time Christmas arrived I had finished my coursework and arrived in Krakow, Poland, with two other current Mitchells.  Before coming to Belfast this past autumn I had done almost no international travel, so I was eager to spend three weeks of winter vacation exploring Europe.  We spent a few days in Krakow exploring the Christmas markets and cathedrals and one very somber day in Auschwitz. We then moved west to Prague, and after a week in the “city of a hundred spires” (perhaps the most consistently beautiful, exciting city I’ve ever visited), we finished our travels in Budapest (the Turkish baths were—much to my surprise—a highlight).  The Mitchell travel stipend was put to good use!

Of course, after traveling for the better part of a month, it was a bit of a relief to arrive back in Belfast to my own apartment and bed.  Compared to the previous few weeks on the road, my room at the University of Ulster almost felt like home.

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Europe’s Underdogs: Euro 2012

Posted on December 19, 2011 by Mohammad Modarres - University College Dublin

First, a little side note about myself: I am very passionate about sport. In fact, my memories of most of my personal experiences are tied to sporting events that happened concurrently (that is, if memories were not of the games themselves). I cannot say I’d be able to tell you much about 1999 without mentioning Allan Houston and the ’99 NY Knicks (my favorite basketball team), who upset the #1 ranked Miami Heat on their road to the NBA Finals. 2002 is a blur to me until I remember Brazil’s fifth FIFA World Cup win thanks to Ronaldo’s goal past the world’s best keeper, Oliver Kahn. Everything that happened in 2008 is put into context when I think back on Eli Manning’s 80+ yard last-minute drive, which helped the Giants win the Super Bowl against an undefeated New England team that left everyone in my town smiling for months (I grew up in North Jersey before moving to Oregon).

But beyond just entertainment, I am passionate about what sport can do as a tool for social development. Behind the hype and the headlines, there is another side to sport — just as powerful, even more universal. I have witnessed sport used to educate South African children about HIV/AIDS and to help Iranian youth with learning difficulties integrate into society. I have seen it used as a way of dispelling prejudice and ignorance and to bring a sense of hope and pride to communities struggling during difficult times (think post-Katrina New Orleans after the Saints’ Super Bowl win and Japan’s victory over the US in the 2011 Women’s FIFA World Cup Final three months after the Tōhoku earthquake).

Since coming to Dublin, I have been fascinated to learn more about how sports are integrated into Irish society and incorporated into local communities. Despite Ireland’s greater interest in Gaelic games (particularly Gaelic football and hurling) and rugby, both of which are an integral part of the fabric of Irish culture, soccer gets considerable national attention. Like much of the energy I witnessed during Ireland’s run for the Rugby World Cup earlier this year (which was aaa–mazing), everyone here  has become more invested in Ireland’s soccer dreams thanks to the recent Euro 2012 qualifiers. Despite a lackluster performance on the field in the past — and having been marked as underdogs from the start — the national team managed to capture a level of excitement louder than any post-election celebration I was part of (I was shocked by how quiet everyone was after President Higgins and his Labour Party won). The old days of changing the channel when Ireland’s national soccer would come on the telly is long gone. While the national soccer team does not draw players from both sides of the border (which I hope it considers in the near future), it is quickly bringing a new wave of nationalism that is pushing aside local county competition made popular by Gaelic football, replacing it with an Irish vs. the world attitude that brings an amazing atmosphere into pubs and on the streets on game days.  (Interestingly, the rugby team does draw from both sides of the border, bringing Nationalists and Unionists together.)

I was thinking I’d remember 2011  as the year the Baltimore Ravens swept their rivals, the Pittsburgh Steelers, it will now be known to me as the year Ireland qualified for Euro 2012. Their 5-1 aggregate win over Estonia in the playoffs was the first achievement for the country’s soccer program since they tied Germany in the 2002 World Cup. A drought in victories since then could have ended with a trip to South Africa had Thierry Henry remembered how football got its name. The Irish have been patiently waiting to prove their worth on the pitch to other European countries for a while now. And their patience is beginning to pay off.

Much of Ireland’s recent success can be attributed to team manager Giovanni Trapattoni who is directing a team of players lacking in talent but who are learning quickly how to win through Giovanni’s defensive tactics. While in the early ’90s, the team had Roy Keane and Ray Houghton, among others, today it lacks stars, but it does have proper management — a key factor.

With not much of a mid-field to brag about and only Robbie Keane in the front line, I cannot see Ireland going too far in Euro 2012, but they will not be an easy team to beat thanks to great goal-keeping (GO Shay Given!) and a strong defensive line. I predict Ireland’s success in Euro 2012 to be very similar to South Africa’s run in the 2010 World Cup – one win, one loss, and one tie. It will come down to how far 4 points can get them against their group. No matter what happens in Euro 2012, Ireland will be already getting the practice they need to enter the 2014 World Cup—the tournament where I believe the orange and green will shine (expecting a 2010 Swiss team that will cause an upset or two).

With the Euro 2012 kicking off on June 8th, I am hoping to fly on over to Ukraine or Poland to catch one of Ireland’s first round matches. Keep an eye out for Ireland’s soccer dreams! Sport is known to change the world, and Ireland is no exception. What the rugby team has failed to do in its World Cup appearances (having reached the quarter-finals five times but never progressing beyond that stage – a major heartbreak during every Cup), the country’s soccer team will. The sport will bring a sense of pride and joy to the Irish that may even change their perception of their country. And when that random upset in the World Cup happens, expect the most incredible party in Ireland!

Dublin Love,
Mohammad

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