Last year I didn’t set out to shock those in the crowd when I marched as part of the Sober St. Patrick’s Day Foundation—dedicated to reclaiming the day as a broad celebration of Irish Culture.
My goal on this special day was to get people to think, to have them consider a different way of celebrating this unique day where so many want to join one group— to be Irish.
It wasn’t to frighten or to shock, just maybe wake up some a little.
And I did this, and more.
This year will be different, but maybe not so much.
This year I will be leading the Sober St. Patrick’s Foundation as the Grand Marshall – beyond anything I imagined as a child -- and I invite you to join me.
Why were faces shocked at the notion of a Sober St. Patrick's Day in 2022
When you march, you wave to those cheering you on. But on St. Patrick’s Day last year, I began to notice those in the crowd being surprised by the challenge of thinking of St. Patrick’s Day in broader terms.
I've marched in other St. Patrick's Day parades, mostly for my high school which was a competitive event. We practiced for long hours to keep a straight line and a straighter face. Serious business this marching, then.
But, last year was for me pure joy.
It wasn’t just the power and the majesty of the event. Last year celebrating 262 years, we Irish, brought a broader range of our culture and heritage into public view.
Many couldn’t believe what they were seeing. They were stunned, momentarily speechless, as if they were thinking, "Is this a joke?"
Followed by a slow smile, a nod of recognition, a cheer, a thumbs up the joyful waving of their Irish flag, and a big wave, and shouts of thank you.
Feeling the rhythm of your power
As I marched, left foot down with the drumbeat, to keep us all in unison, I felt powerful, determined.
Our message of being sober and Irish on this day was making its way through the crowd, and I hoped to others viewing us on TV.
Celebrators, a rainbow of all races, many having some Irish in their genes, others wanting to be Irish for the day, all eager to enjoy the music, see the flags, and the dancing-- as they were taking in our message.
…As you challenge your family legacy
My father, were he still alive, could have been one of these.
He would take me to the parade for a little bit.
And then to a bar, where’d he drink and curse and, sometimes fight, as I’d look out the window knowing there was a parade outside that I wanted to see.
Last year as I took my first step I said, "This one is for you dad," feeling his smile. I beamed, feeling a weight lift, a physical release in my chest, one I didn’t know I was carrying. This was so right.
Of course, there were some yelled curses and fists pumping in the air. Maybe even some who felt like offering us a beer or cursing because they unintentionally spilled some of theirs.
But New York’s finest kept us safe and moving. Frankly, I expected more upset, more of a fuss by those who had, in the words of my father, "The curse of the Irish," a curse he knew well.
Yes, not everyone was happy to see what some undoubtedly felt was a desecration of their favorite holiday for getting drunk and high because St. Patrick’s Day has become for many a get-drunk-with-no-consequences day.
This is evident by the carefully organized bar crawls that you can sign up for in any major city or small town. The online drinking contests. The T-shirts spout messages celebrating drunkenness, trying to make it OK.
But, overall, the shocked looks I witnessed were quickly replaced with glee, relief even, that another message was being sent, one that recognized pride in being Irish.
This year I know I’ll be feeling my father again, beaming broader, feeling proud because it’s how we hold our suffering that gives our life meaning.
Recognizing your own courage
There are moments in our lives where we are both soft and strong, vulnerable yet resilient, where we pinch ourselves to see if this is real. Moments that we know are too important.
…Even in the rain
The rain of last year seemed perfect. It had been a long journey to get here.
As we gathered before the parade, some complained that this was a shame about the rain. I countered, "We’re from a wet country, that’s why it’s green." They smiled, yeah.
"We’re Irish," I said. "We make hardship look easy. We sing, we dance, we march. That’s why everyone wants to be Irish!"
Laughter. Head nods. Standing up straighter we left to march for ourselves, our families, and our future.
Yes, there’s a message here about dealing with adversity, one the Irish have no corner on.
4 ways to carry your own banner
1. Welcome the rain.
My mother would always tell me, "You’re not sugar, you won’t melt." But I wanted to be seen as sugar — sweet, delicate.
But by age six I had already had too many experiences that attempted to crush me. Yet, I stood. I learned there was more to me.
Rain taught me to look at adversity and play with it, trying to turn it on its head. Welcoming the rain confirms what you know, that it won’t be easy. So what?
2. Own that you want to say something, do something.
Feel this energy. You can refine what it is, but know there’s something in you that wants to come out. There’s power in having a message.
3. Be prepared for the reactions.
Yes, you could be shocked. Knowing the reaction of others tells you that you’ve been heard.
4. Give yourself a pat on the back for your courage.
Yes, courage. If it was easy, it wouldn’t be consuming so much of your emotional capital to do it. Think of all the times you’ve put off saying this or doing this.
Now, take a moment to take a breath and congratulate yourself.
Patricia A O'Gorman, Ph.D. is a life coach trained as a trauma and addiction psychologist, speaker, author of 9 books on resiliency, women, and self-parenting, and on the Board of Sober St. Patrick’s Day. Learn more on her website.
This article was excerpted from one that originally appeared on YourTango and MSN