It’s just that I keep running into Irish youth, they seem to be everywhere. Five maybe six times just in the street, they have asked me the way or they say if they are inside , say working in a shop,”do you mind if I ask you where you from?’ they ask in that sing song voice of the Irish, so jolly, like they are saying,’the top of the morning to yer?’
One young boy said after I gave him directions in the street, we’re enemies you and I. I look perplexed and he said, I from Ireland, only joking.
I each and every time feel, nostalgic, sad, hopeful in the split second they ask me where I am from, and out of politeness I say, “London, well Uxbridge which is at the end of the Met line.”
I feel nostalgic, it takes me to my immigration, I feel sad these kids should have gone to Toronto (nearer to home), I feel hope because you never know they may make be happy here that sort of thing.
I remember when I first came to Canada, I said to my husband, “they only want our children you know.” It’s so terribly ugly colonization.