by Maggie Fitzgibbon My father, Seamus McGinnity, came to America from Ireland in 1957 with a suitcase and a dream for a better life. My mother, Bridget Garvey McGinnity, is the daughter of Irish immigrants; both my maternal grandparents immigrated to America from Ireland, my grandfather in 1924 and grandmother in 1925. My parents were wed in 1959 and together they raised a family. I was born in 1960, my brothers, Jim in 1962, John in 1964, Kevin in 1971. My childhood was different from that of many of my classmates. As the oldest child and only daughter of an Irish immigrant, I learned at an early age the value of hard work, and an understanding and love for my Irish heritage and Catholic faith. My love for my Irish heritage seemed to be instilled in me as far back as I can remember. While other children were taking piano or ballet lessons, every Saturday my parents took me to Irish dance lessons. I began lessons at the age of four and throughout the next 15 years, each week I learned the intricacies of Irish step dance, perfecting my 123’s (the basic movement of Irish dance). Once they were old enough, my brothers joined me at dance lessons. Most Saturday evenings, when not with relatives, were spent performing our talents with our dance groups at the Irish social club in Rochester or at church functions. Over time, soccer drew my brothers’ interest away from Irish dance and wearing a kilt was thought of as girly. But, I continued with my Irish dancing until I was almost 19. (Even at the age of 47, I still continue to share my love for Irish dance and have taught Irish dance for over 10 years.) The sounds of Irish music and the smells of home cooked, simple Irish foods were always found at the McGinnity home. The sounds of jigs, reels and the voices of the Clancy Brothers came from an old phonograph player. (I can still recall the lyrics to these old Irish songs.) Mom could always be found in the kitchen preparing dinner, which always included potatoes, as we came home from school. My father built both of the homes we lived in, with help from fellow Irish tradesmen and family. Our Catholic faith was practiced each day. We recited our morning prayers before school, and grace was said at all meals. Nightly prayers, and sometimes the rosary, were said kneeling together before bed. Mass was faithfully attended every Sunday, and Holy Days. No meat was ever eaten on a Friday during Lent. I attended a Catholic grammar school, St. John the Evangelist School in Spencerport. Summer months were busy and were spent traveling to Irish dance competitions called feiseannas (Gaelic for the word festival and pronounced feshanna) held throughout the Northeast United States. We also traveled around Upstate New York watching my Dad play Gaelic football and hurling. Good behavior was rewarded with sleepovers at my grandparent’s farm, my Mom’s parents, in Mendon. My Grandpa Garvey, a sharp card player, taught us how to play card games and Grandma spoiled us with her delicious dinners and cakes. But, the most memorable summers were the summers we traveled to Ireland to visit relatives. These visits to Ireland hold special memories for me. We always stayed with my Granny, my father’s mother. All the aunts, uncles and cousins came to Granny’s when we, “The Yanks,” came to visit. My father never called our trips visits; he always referred to these trips as “going home” even after he became an America citizen. “Going home” was not a vacation. We worked on the farm, making the hay, milking the cows and feeding the pigs. Through this hard work, we grew to know who our uncles, aunts and cousins were. With this hard work also came fun, water fights with Uncle Pat in the farm yard, sleepovers at Auntie Una’s and trips to town with Auntie Dympna. Trips to other parts of Ireland introduced my brothers and me to more family and helped my parents to rediscover their roots. As our family grew, my parents built a business and in 1974, McGinnity’s Restaurant and Party House, was born. McGinnity’s became another member of the family. We, my brothers and I, worked with my parents to grow the business. When improvements were needed, my brothers swung their hammers, helping to build walls. My job was to help Mom, in the kitchen, with paperwork and party details, and whatever she needed a hand with. Mom needed many hands! As we came of age, each of us took our turn tending bar, waiting tables, cooking on Friday nights and helping manage the business. To this day, we all help during the busy seasons and now the third generation of the McGinnity family is waiting tables! During my teenage years, dating was frowned upon. Most of my friends, boys and girls, were from our Irish social community, from church or were my cousins. As I reached the age of 18, dating was allowed but not many young men passed my Dad’s approval. My husband, Mike Fitzgibbon, was the only young man who passed this approval. His firm handshake and Irish last name won over my Dad. While my childhood and teenage years differed from many of my friends, I would not change it for the world. My Mom and Dad taught my brothers and me many lessons. They taught us to work hard, to be passionate about what you believe in, and to be proud of who and what you are. My parents taught us that hard work brings rewards. These important values of faith, love for family and a love for my Irish identity and a passion to be successful, I have passed on to my own children. My three girls are thought of as “the Irish kids” and they, too, are proud of who they are. Growing up Irish was not just a way of living, being Irish has defined who I am today. March 11, 2007 |
