Another post I left in the new politics blog, Tea and Toast.
Amidst all the doom and gloom of the past year, with Ireland needing help from the European Union and the International Monetary Fund, an economy which continues to stay in the doldrums, and another tough budget with the spectre of at least another three to come, one traditional Irish way of life has silently returned: emigration.
From May 2008 to April 2009, a Central Statistics Office report found that 65,000 people emigrated from Ireland, a forty per cent increase from the previous year. With 57,300 immigrating into Ireland, this represented the first net emigration seen here since 1995. Over half the people who emigrated were citizens of Eastern European states who had arrived here less than a decade ago, but Irish nationals accounted for the next largest group, some 18,100 leaving their home state to find a better life elsewhere.
The numbers leaving this country are hidden somewhat by the large natural growth in population enjoyed by Ireland. The highest number of births seen since 1896 contributed to a natural growth of over 45,000 in 2008-09, meaning Ireland’s population is still growing. This fact merely masks that while the number of people aged 65 or older has increased to record levels, and more children are born to adequately compensate for deaths, thousands of our citizens have been forced to leave their homeland to secure a future for themselves.
This sad reality is not a one-year blip. In 2010, despite a similar natural increase of population, another 65,000 people left, with Irish nationals accounting for the largest share of this group, 27,700. With a net emigration figure of over 34,000, Ireland is seeing emigration levels of a scale unseen since the 1980s. Next year, the Economic and Social Research Institute predicts another 120,000 will leave for foreign shores.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. On the day I started university, in September 2004, my class was told how fortunate we were to live in a proud, modern nation with a booming economy that was the envy of the world. The enforced emigration which had plagued this land for four centuries, right up to the days of our own infancy, was a fading memory.
Our generation, we were promised, would be the first that would emigrate only by choice, free from being forced to suffer the pain of leaving family and friends to eke out a living elsewhere, with the real possibility of never being able to return. Thanks to the economic policies of our political and economic establishment, our generation were promised the lives that no-one could have dared to imagine we would have when we were born, with free education if we wanted it, and a huge range of jobs to choose from. Our parents would not have to bear the pain of seeing their children leave home for good, and we could become masters of our own destinies without climbing aboard a plane or ferry.
Yet less than a decade later, those promises ring hollow, and the economy which was once the envy of the world hasbecome the laughing stock, as the Celtic Tiger has turned into the Celtic Kitten, devoid of claws and with a whimper instead of a roar. Our parents worry that they may soon be bringing us to the departure gates, fearing we will only return for short holidays. Dozens of my friends have already left, in search of employment they cannot get here. They form part of the 1,000 people who move to Great Britain every month and the more than 7,000 who received residency rights in Canada, Australia and the US last year, as well as the22,000 who have obtained a one-year working visa in Australia. It is sad to see them go, and the sadness will continue as more friends leave in the coming years. I might even have to leave myself, a prospect I would never have contemplated five years ago.
The title of this piece refers to a Jimmy McCarthy song, performed by Mary Black, “As I Leave Behind Neidín”, used as a soundtrack to a piece on emigration shown on the 1986 episode of RTÉ’s “Reeling in the Years”. In that year, the year I was born, 30,000 people emigrated from Ireland as crippling unemployment and no economic recovery in sight forced tens of thousands of young Irish people to leave their homelands.
A tear comes to my eye every time I see that episode, but the reason it comes to my eye now is slightly different to why it came when I first saw that episode. Once, I wondered about the people forced to leave Ireland in that year, especially the people featured on the programme. What happened to them? Did they ever get the opportunity to return to the land they clearly didn’t want to leave? Were they even still alive, or did they die in a foreign land, far from the lives and people they loved and missed? The sadness flooded through me as Mary Black sang “won’t you remember me?”
I saw the episode again recently, and while those questions about the preceding generation remained, and the familiar sorrow repeated itself as the strains of that ballad played in the background, I found myself asking the same questions, but about my own generation. What will happen to us? If we have to leave this country, will we get the opportunity to return? Will we die in a foreign land we’ll never call home? Will we be remembered?
Of course, the world is a much smaller place today, and leaving one’s country doesn’t mean that you can’t return. But it does get harder once you lay down roots in your new country, and it becomes harder to uproot, especially after forging a career and begin a family. And although it has never been easier to return, that great fear which had plagued our ancestors, the one great illness which our generation had been assured was gone forever, has returned. We were promised that the saddest part of our history was behind us, but the spectre of emigration, and the resulting loss of our nation’s children, has struck again. Emigration helps ease unemployment and eases the burden on our economy, since the majority of emigrants are of working age. But what benefit does this easing have when, once again, our children, like our cattle, are being raised for export?
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Friday, 26 November 2010
Knowledge management and the development of a personal learning environment
This week's Digital History class almost seemed like a Philosophy lecture, as it focused on our personal learning environment and personal learning management. The lecture examined the traditional ways students are taught, and the informal methods of learning not usually found in the classroom, before asking us to consider what contributed to the way we learn, and how we access and filter information, to be used in our research.
Most learning seen in education continues to be the old method of formal lectures, with a learned individual speaking to a number of passive people, who take notes or listen, but do not actively engage in the process. The information passed to the class is then regurgitated in essays or exams, because little worth is attributed to finding additional, or contradictory, readings on the topics covered. This problem is especially prevalent in second-level education, where memorisation is emphasised, rather than active participation in learning. This means that a good memory is confused with intelligence, and the ability to understand or interpret information is dismissed as secondary to learning off by heart.
My own learning experience largely followed this trend before starting my first postgraduate degree last year. In school, given the focus the Leaving Certificate has on memory, no system was in place to either expand or criticise the material which pupils are expected to learn wholesale. Since virtually all grading was conducted through examinations, there was no desire on the part of my school to encourage questioning of the material, and no attempt was made to evaluate how any knowledge learned by pupils was applied in our education or in real life.
To a large degree, undergraduate study is quite similar. With the huge numbers of students taking undergrad courses, lecturers have no time to engage in small group sessions, or to see if students are engaging with the material. Exams are, again, used more to evaluate a student's memory, rather than whether they bothered to actively engage with the information.
At postgraduate level, one is forced to engage with material, and must find it themselves. Having being forced to do this, I was able to gain a better understanding of what I read, because I had to rationally think about what was being presented, and question aspects of what I read that I didn't agree with. This gave me a better understanding of what I was studying, because I had to actively engage with the subject material, rather than simply passively read it and store it in my memory for exams, after which I could promptly forget the information that I had learned simply for the process of regurgitation on an exam paper.
Of course, what I learn in college isn't the only way I learn about the world, in fact, it's probably smaller than I had ever realised. Every day, I access the news through one or more types of media, though the convenience and zero cost that the Internet provides makes it my main source. I frequently use Facebook and Gmail chat to engage with other people, their thoughts and the links they post, often through debate. YouTube provides video footage which might never be seen on television, because of either timing constraints, or editorial policy. I probably became more aware of the unfolding national chaos of last week via social networking groups than I would have anywhere else. Social networking sites, like Facebook, are mainly for entertainment purposes but, as Juche observes, they can also encourage "accidental" or serendipitous learning, where the user receives an education without realising it, an grown-up example of "edutainment" programming aimed at children, if you will.
The spread of the Internet has enabled an expansion of a dual learning process outside of the formal setting of a classroom. The first aspect, independent learning, allows me, or anyone, to access information at any time, from any location, quickly and inexpensively. Through search engines or news organisations, one can acquire information which compliments, or contradicts, information the user already holds, challenging them to think about what they have learned before. The second aspect, shared or collaborative learning, encourages people to interact by commenting on posts, sharing links to interesting web pages or by instant messaging. This allows for the development of a shared learning experience, where knowledge is gained equally, and at the same time, by the participants in the discussion. Both aspects force the user to engage actively with what they are reading or discussing, allowing them to react positively or negatively, and to draw their own conclusions about the topic they are learning about.
The key to successful learning, I find, is through making sense of the material. We are able to access copious amounts of information, physically and online, and we must decipher valuable information from the nonsensical, in a process called knowledge management. As Juche observes, once you find the information you need on a certain topic, you must then study it, observing what is being covered. Then, one must challenge the material, to see what flaws exist in the arguments given, before evaluating the overall worth of the document. After this process is complete, one can use the information to construct their own arguments and beliefs.
Knowledge management is a skill which I have learned rather recently, in the main because it is not a skill required when one is in second level or undergraduate studies. Advancing beyond these levels, however, a student must find material themselves, without the comfort of being spoonfed information by a lecturer or tutor. Without the recommendations of lecturers, I had to find books and articles myself, learning to differentiate between useful and unhelpful sources, and pick up the ability to filter arguments and quotes, customising them to suit my approach, in order to assist me in constructing a discussion in topics I found interesting.
In a world where any slant can exist on any topic, it is important to be able to engage with material and see what parts you find believable, in the first instance, then adapting it to suit one's own arguments. Knowledge management, therefore, is important in creating a stronger, more independent, personal learning environment.
Most learning seen in education continues to be the old method of formal lectures, with a learned individual speaking to a number of passive people, who take notes or listen, but do not actively engage in the process. The information passed to the class is then regurgitated in essays or exams, because little worth is attributed to finding additional, or contradictory, readings on the topics covered. This problem is especially prevalent in second-level education, where memorisation is emphasised, rather than active participation in learning. This means that a good memory is confused with intelligence, and the ability to understand or interpret information is dismissed as secondary to learning off by heart.
My own learning experience largely followed this trend before starting my first postgraduate degree last year. In school, given the focus the Leaving Certificate has on memory, no system was in place to either expand or criticise the material which pupils are expected to learn wholesale. Since virtually all grading was conducted through examinations, there was no desire on the part of my school to encourage questioning of the material, and no attempt was made to evaluate how any knowledge learned by pupils was applied in our education or in real life.
To a large degree, undergraduate study is quite similar. With the huge numbers of students taking undergrad courses, lecturers have no time to engage in small group sessions, or to see if students are engaging with the material. Exams are, again, used more to evaluate a student's memory, rather than whether they bothered to actively engage with the information.
At postgraduate level, one is forced to engage with material, and must find it themselves. Having being forced to do this, I was able to gain a better understanding of what I read, because I had to rationally think about what was being presented, and question aspects of what I read that I didn't agree with. This gave me a better understanding of what I was studying, because I had to actively engage with the subject material, rather than simply passively read it and store it in my memory for exams, after which I could promptly forget the information that I had learned simply for the process of regurgitation on an exam paper.
Of course, what I learn in college isn't the only way I learn about the world, in fact, it's probably smaller than I had ever realised. Every day, I access the news through one or more types of media, though the convenience and zero cost that the Internet provides makes it my main source. I frequently use Facebook and Gmail chat to engage with other people, their thoughts and the links they post, often through debate. YouTube provides video footage which might never be seen on television, because of either timing constraints, or editorial policy. I probably became more aware of the unfolding national chaos of last week via social networking groups than I would have anywhere else. Social networking sites, like Facebook, are mainly for entertainment purposes but, as Juche observes, they can also encourage "accidental" or serendipitous learning, where the user receives an education without realising it, an grown-up example of "edutainment" programming aimed at children, if you will.
The spread of the Internet has enabled an expansion of a dual learning process outside of the formal setting of a classroom. The first aspect, independent learning, allows me, or anyone, to access information at any time, from any location, quickly and inexpensively. Through search engines or news organisations, one can acquire information which compliments, or contradicts, information the user already holds, challenging them to think about what they have learned before. The second aspect, shared or collaborative learning, encourages people to interact by commenting on posts, sharing links to interesting web pages or by instant messaging. This allows for the development of a shared learning experience, where knowledge is gained equally, and at the same time, by the participants in the discussion. Both aspects force the user to engage actively with what they are reading or discussing, allowing them to react positively or negatively, and to draw their own conclusions about the topic they are learning about.
The key to successful learning, I find, is through making sense of the material. We are able to access copious amounts of information, physically and online, and we must decipher valuable information from the nonsensical, in a process called knowledge management. As Juche observes, once you find the information you need on a certain topic, you must then study it, observing what is being covered. Then, one must challenge the material, to see what flaws exist in the arguments given, before evaluating the overall worth of the document. After this process is complete, one can use the information to construct their own arguments and beliefs.
Knowledge management is a skill which I have learned rather recently, in the main because it is not a skill required when one is in second level or undergraduate studies. Advancing beyond these levels, however, a student must find material themselves, without the comfort of being spoonfed information by a lecturer or tutor. Without the recommendations of lecturers, I had to find books and articles myself, learning to differentiate between useful and unhelpful sources, and pick up the ability to filter arguments and quotes, customising them to suit my approach, in order to assist me in constructing a discussion in topics I found interesting.
In a world where any slant can exist on any topic, it is important to be able to engage with material and see what parts you find believable, in the first instance, then adapting it to suit one's own arguments. Knowledge management, therefore, is important in creating a stronger, more independent, personal learning environment.
Monday, 22 November 2010
And they say a WEEK is a long time in politics...
The funeral bell for the thirtieth Dáil began to pall this morning, with a statement from John Gormley saying that his Green Party were eager to publish the four year-plan for economic recovery, pass the upcoming budget and come to agreement with the IMF and the ECB, but that the party wanted a general election to be held in the second half of January. It was the first major event of what was a tumultuous day for Irish politics and society, one which will probably force the night staff working overtime to get tomorrow morning's headlines up to date.
Last night's conference featuring Mr. Cowen and Mr. Lenihan seeking assistance from the IMF and its EU partners sought to restore some confidence in both the Irish economy and the euro, which was met with enthusiasm as markets opened, with shares across Europe up on Friday's trading, while the euro climbed against the dollar and Ireland's borrowing rate decreased. Following the statement, these trends were reversed, the markets closing down, while Ireland's interest rate returned to over eight per cent. Any hopes that pressure on the single currency would ease, and that the spooked global markets would regain faith in the Irish economy, were lost after little more than twelve hours.
As the day continued, while the Greens were committing to remain in government until after the budget was signed into law, the two of the three government-supporting independent TDs stated that they could not guarantee their support even as long as that, while two Fianna Fáil TDs called on Mr. Cowen to resign as Taoiseach and as leader of the party. From the opposition ranks, Labour's Eamon Gilmore and, later, Fine Gael's Enda Kenny issued statements calling for an immediate dissolution of the Dáil and a general election to be held before Christmas.
With the opposition parties, understandably, refusing to support a budget before seeing what the government proposes on December 7, and strong views by Fine Gael's deputy leader and Health spokesman, Dr. James Reilly, and Labour's Justice spokesman and former leader, Pat Rabbitte, on tonight's RTÉ's Six-One News that the government couldn't be trusted to provide a budget they could agree with anyway, the government majority might be wiped out completely, should the two independent TDs on the government benches refuse to support the budget.
This evening, Mr. Cowen gave a press conference on the steps of Government Buildings shortly after 19:00 and, flanked by Fianna Fáil ministers, he promised to go to Áras an Úachtaráin "once the budgetary process was complete" to ask for a dissolution of the Dáil. Given that the budgetary process usually takes several weeks (last year's wasn't finished until March), and that the Christmas recess runs until January 19, it has been estimated that an election wouldn't be held before February, at the earliest.
Mr. Cowen gave a brave performance on the Government Buildings steps, but he surely knows the jig is up. Fianna Fáil ministers are believed to be incensed that the Greens have pulled the carpet from under the government, though the declining majority was probably going to disappear completely by spring anyway. Pulling out of government, now or after the budget, isn't going to do the Greens any favours; they will be severely punished by the electorate, whenever the election is held. What the move has done, though, is add further uncertainty into the mix, with foreign governments and international markets unsure what's about to happen. If today is any example, no-one could predict what the political outlook will be in 24 hours, let alone by budget day.
Last night's conference featuring Mr. Cowen and Mr. Lenihan seeking assistance from the IMF and its EU partners sought to restore some confidence in both the Irish economy and the euro, which was met with enthusiasm as markets opened, with shares across Europe up on Friday's trading, while the euro climbed against the dollar and Ireland's borrowing rate decreased. Following the statement, these trends were reversed, the markets closing down, while Ireland's interest rate returned to over eight per cent. Any hopes that pressure on the single currency would ease, and that the spooked global markets would regain faith in the Irish economy, were lost after little more than twelve hours.
As the day continued, while the Greens were committing to remain in government until after the budget was signed into law, the two of the three government-supporting independent TDs stated that they could not guarantee their support even as long as that, while two Fianna Fáil TDs called on Mr. Cowen to resign as Taoiseach and as leader of the party. From the opposition ranks, Labour's Eamon Gilmore and, later, Fine Gael's Enda Kenny issued statements calling for an immediate dissolution of the Dáil and a general election to be held before Christmas.
With the opposition parties, understandably, refusing to support a budget before seeing what the government proposes on December 7, and strong views by Fine Gael's deputy leader and Health spokesman, Dr. James Reilly, and Labour's Justice spokesman and former leader, Pat Rabbitte, on tonight's RTÉ's Six-One News that the government couldn't be trusted to provide a budget they could agree with anyway, the government majority might be wiped out completely, should the two independent TDs on the government benches refuse to support the budget.
This evening, Mr. Cowen gave a press conference on the steps of Government Buildings shortly after 19:00 and, flanked by Fianna Fáil ministers, he promised to go to Áras an Úachtaráin "once the budgetary process was complete" to ask for a dissolution of the Dáil. Given that the budgetary process usually takes several weeks (last year's wasn't finished until March), and that the Christmas recess runs until January 19, it has been estimated that an election wouldn't be held before February, at the earliest.
Mr. Cowen gave a brave performance on the Government Buildings steps, but he surely knows the jig is up. Fianna Fáil ministers are believed to be incensed that the Greens have pulled the carpet from under the government, though the declining majority was probably going to disappear completely by spring anyway. Pulling out of government, now or after the budget, isn't going to do the Greens any favours; they will be severely punished by the electorate, whenever the election is held. What the move has done, though, is add further uncertainty into the mix, with foreign governments and international markets unsure what's about to happen. If today is any example, no-one could predict what the political outlook will be in 24 hours, let alone by budget day.
Sunday, 21 November 2010
Quick scanning tools for text analysis
This week's Digital History class asked us to look at text analysis tools, and see how prominent certain words are in various texts. I chose to look at the inaugural speech of John F. Kennedy nearly fifty years ago, to see what are the most common words, and the themes covered, by Kennedy.
The first tool I used is TAPoR (Text Analysis Portal for Research), which allows you to examine documents and see how often certain words are used within the text. This can be done either by inserting a website address into a toolbar, or by uploading a text file from your hard drive. The immediate benefit of the tool is that you can quickly analyse how frequently certain words appear in speeches. The downside of this is that, without filtering, the tool lists the frequency of all words, including those that you might not want. Kennedy's inaugural address, for example, mentioned "the" 85 times, "of" 66 times, and "of" 37 times, which isn't much use for anyone wanting to show the emphasis he gave to international affairs. I ran the document through the program a second time, this time excluding words which were used for constructing sentences, rather than for constructing Kennedy's political beliefs. "We", "our" and "us" dominated, showing Kennedy's desire to portray America and his government as united, an important factor given that the 1960 election was the closest run campaign ever, until the 2000 Bush-Gore battle. These words are also common English words, so I ran the speech through the program again, this time checking the "apply inflectional stemmer" option, which removes commonly used words from the results. The frequency of all (non-common) words mentioned at least three times in the inaugural address can be found here.
The second tool I used was Wordle, a program which places text into a "word cloud", an image illustrating the frequency of words used in the text, with words used more frequently shown in larger sizes than words used less frequently. Entering the text of Kennedy's inaugural address into the program, an image is created, which can be custom formatted to suit one's taste. The program automatically discounts commonly used words, so the image created appears like this:
This is useful, because when commonly used words are included, the image is radically altered, as the common words dominate the picture, as can be seen below.
In all, these are useful programs, allowing people to sort through documents to see what words, ideas and themes may appear within the text. Wordle is probably the more user-friendly tool, being easier to navigate as well as looking prettier. That the creator allows, in fact encourages, the use of the program to create T-shirt designs is a nice added bonus!
The first tool I used is TAPoR (Text Analysis Portal for Research), which allows you to examine documents and see how often certain words are used within the text. This can be done either by inserting a website address into a toolbar, or by uploading a text file from your hard drive. The immediate benefit of the tool is that you can quickly analyse how frequently certain words appear in speeches. The downside of this is that, without filtering, the tool lists the frequency of all words, including those that you might not want. Kennedy's inaugural address, for example, mentioned "the" 85 times, "of" 66 times, and "of" 37 times, which isn't much use for anyone wanting to show the emphasis he gave to international affairs. I ran the document through the program a second time, this time excluding words which were used for constructing sentences, rather than for constructing Kennedy's political beliefs. "We", "our" and "us" dominated, showing Kennedy's desire to portray America and his government as united, an important factor given that the 1960 election was the closest run campaign ever, until the 2000 Bush-Gore battle. These words are also common English words, so I ran the speech through the program again, this time checking the "apply inflectional stemmer" option, which removes commonly used words from the results. The frequency of all (non-common) words mentioned at least three times in the inaugural address can be found here.
The second tool I used was Wordle, a program which places text into a "word cloud", an image illustrating the frequency of words used in the text, with words used more frequently shown in larger sizes than words used less frequently. Entering the text of Kennedy's inaugural address into the program, an image is created, which can be custom formatted to suit one's taste. The program automatically discounts commonly used words, so the image created appears like this:
This is useful, because when commonly used words are included, the image is radically altered, as the common words dominate the picture, as can be seen below.
In all, these are useful programs, allowing people to sort through documents to see what words, ideas and themes may appear within the text. Wordle is probably the more user-friendly tool, being easier to navigate as well as looking prettier. That the creator allows, in fact encourages, the use of the program to create T-shirt designs is a nice added bonus!
Thursday, 18 November 2010
The ECB and the IMF come to town
This is a post I got published this evening on the new Irish politics blog, Tea and Toast.
So, despite the assurances of the government which dominated news headlines last weekend, the European Central Bank, the European Commission and the International Monetary Fund are now in Dublin to discuss the provision of a loan. The governor of the Central Bank, Patrick Honohan, gave an interview with RTÉ’s “Morning Ireland” saying that he expected “a substantial loan” of tens of billions to be provided to the Irish government, with a five per cent interest rate. The Minister for Finance, Brian Lenihan, stated to the Dáil on Thursday that a contingency loan would be a “very desirable outcome”.
There has been a long-held fear about the intervention of these bodies, the IMF in particular, because of the historic ability to dictate draconian terms and conditions on governments looking for funding. Argentina’s economic collapse in 2001 saw demands placed on the Argentinean government to drastically reduce its budget deficit. Unfortunately, tax income plummeted as the crisis worsened, which meant that the government was forced to slash public spending, with cuts of 18% in public expenditure placed in the 2002 budget.
More worryingly, given that reducing budget deficits were aimed to reduce fears among international markets and investors, the Argentinean government announced austerity measures to cut public spending in advance of a sale of government bonds in July 2001; these measures failed to assuage market worries. These bonds could only be sold following a sharp rise in the interest rate the government had to pay, reaching 14% while bond sales the previous month were sold at an interest rate of 9%, a rate which Irish government bond rates are currently hovering around.
The European Commission and the ECB have long been eager to press the point that they do not want to force Ireland to take a loan, but rather it is for the government to ask for assistance. This opinion has not been shared by all, though, with weaker Eurozone economies hoping a loan is given to Dublin, especially Portugal and Spain. With Ireland reluctant to seek assistance, market worries about the ability of weaker European economies to fund their economies have added further pressure on governments looking for funding from the markets. The opinions of Lisbon and Madrid are understandable; the securing of the Irish economy by loans from the IMF and the ECB eases market fears, reducing the interest demands on other Eurozone economies borrowing from the international markets.
The overriding question coming from this situation is: did the government delay in looking for assistance from the ECB and the IMF to maintain a level of independence and dignity, and what happens now following the apparent failure of this course of action? Mr. Lenihan stated in the Dáil that any delay was caused to protect the Irish taxpayer, but from what? If it was to protect from speculation, it failed, because taxpayers and the media here and abroad have spent the last week speculating about if, and when, the IMF would be called. If it was to protect from the grim reality that such a loan would lead to a draconian drive for deficit reduction, it failed, since it merely delayed the inevitable, leading to market uncertainty, an unwise move when the government needs to borrow money with the budget now less than three weeks away.
The Taoiseach has insisted that Irish sovereignty would not be threatened, but this cannot be the case once the IMF and the ECB become involved in supporting the economy. The IMF has a long history of interfering with national governments decisions once it has provided loans to countries, Argentina being one of the most recent examples, while the ECB’s (and the euro’s) very existence is credited to an agreed loss of sovereignty by EU member states. These organisations will not allow the government to do as it wishes with their money, lest the government misspends it and comes back, cap in hand, looking for seconds.
The “Irish Times” editorial on Thursday morning summed up the feeling many have towards the oncoming loss of national sovereignty by asking if the struggles of the last few centuries which secured Ireland’s political freedom from Britain, the fight for self-determination, was worth the effort if our own government helped lead us to this point. The nation was founded to emphasise our difference from the United Kingdom, and that the Irish people would decide the fate of their country. The presence of the IMF and ECB radically changes this dynamic, as they will have the final say in how this country’s economy will be run as long as our debts are outstanding.
The most damning point of this mess is that it was not the IMF, nor the ECB or the single currency, nor the European Union or any other country which caused our once-wonderful economy, formerly the envy of the world, to collapse. It was our government, elected by the people of Ireland, which encouraged the risky practises of banks, the bubble boom of the property market, the “buy now, pay later” culture which allowed personal debt to spiral out of control. These economic moves were strongly supported by the general public, main opposition parties included, during the good times. These economic policies have now come back to haunt us.
For me, the single most upsetting aspect to this sorry state of affairs is not that our economy is nearly bust, or that government bond prices are so high. It’s not that we need help from our neighbours, or from the dreaded IMF. It’s not even about playing the blame game with regard to how we got into this mess in the first place. Rather, it’s that the government hid the facts from us. Last weekend, the cabinet was adamant that Ireland was not about to go looking for assistance but, less than a week later, we have two major organisations in Dublin looking at Ireland’s plans to reduce its budget deficit and how much the government needs to loan.
It’s popular to despise Fianna Fáil, and understandably so, but my complaint to the government is not about their economic policies, or their methods of restoring confidence in “Ireland Inc”. My complaint is about the evident belief held by the government is that we need to be hidden from the harsh realities of the coming weeks and months. It’s a question of trust: if the government cannot trust us, the people responsible enough to put them in office, to be mature enough to handle the pain of the next few years, how can it expect us to trust it to lead us through it?
Monday, 8 November 2010
Photo editing: What's good for celebrity models is vaguely acceptable for Cork's old gaol
Following on from our assignment to take photos of various places of historical interest in Cork city a few weeks back, this week's task was to edit some of the photos taken and post the before and after shots online. Adobe Photoshop is the most well-known photo editor, building a dominant position in the market in the twenty years it has been available. Indeed, much like referring to a vacuum cleaner by calling it a "hoover", or a cola product by calling it a "coke", we speak of "photoshopping" when we discuss an edited photograph, regardless of the editing suite that was actually used.
Editing software has been extensively used in the last two decades, from hiding blemishes and pasty faces, enhancing the attractiveness of models to adding hair to bald men and beards to those who are clean-shaven. But aside from making people look better, photo editing can be used to enhance buildings or landscapes, especially handy when trying to entice tourists to visit your country.
The program I chose to use is "Picnik", an online editor which doesn't require registration or downloading to work. With an easy interface, and a number of uncomplicated enhancing features, Picnik is ideal for someone without the time or the need to invest in more advanced suite. Its simple method of uploading pictures from your hard drive, editing to your taste and effortless saving allows even the most technologically-challenged computer user to make their photos come to life. I've edited a few of the photos I took on my visit to the old city gaol to show the differences created by using this editing package.
I was fortunate enough to have been able to take my pictures on a dry, sunny day, so there was no worries about having to delete any clouds or rain that might otherwise spoil the photograph. It was a dry, sunny day in late October, though, so while there is plenty of light, the pictures look quite cool, reflecting the low temperatures on the day, and possibly putting off anyone who might like to visit Ireland, but doesn't fancy cold weather.
Simply by messing around with the brightness, contrast and exposure settings, this is the result I came up with. The added warmth of the edited image hides the fact that the shot was taken on a cold autumn afternoon in southern Ireland. Instead, one might think this was taken on a hot summer's day, with blazing sunshine trying its best to split rocks. The warmth and brightness might well trick an unsuspecting viewer into thinking that this couldn't possibly be an old Irish gaol, but a building one might find in a more tropical location, like the Mediterranean.
The picture on the left is of an internal prison wall, with three of the barred windows, you can just make out three Romanesque windows on the far right of the photo, which would have allowed light into adjoining cells. Again, it's evident that there was plenty of light on what was a fine day, but the cool temperature is clearly visible as well. On the right, the edited shot again displays warmer temperature, with contrast altered to emphasise the shadows on the wall, caused by neighbouring trees.
The final shot I've chosen to post is of the stocks placed outside the entrance of the main building. Again, there is plenty of light, but it's obvious that this shot was not taken in the height of summer. The picture looks cool, with the grass looking limp and lifeless. If anything, a viewer might think this was a wintry day that was sunny by fluke. Also, the stocks itself looks worn, unused for decades, with faded and unvarnished wood. The "after" shot livens up a tired image, with the grass looking healthier thanks to the temperature adjustment, and the stocks looking rejuvenated after altering the contrast setting.
It's clear to see why Discover Ireland and Tourism Ireland would make use of photo editing software. In what is a highly competitive market for a limited number of tourists, Irish tourism agencies need to emphasise Ireland's natural beauty to entice visitors. Just like celebrities appearing in tabloid magazines, the odd enhancement here and there, courtesy of editing software, might exaggerate, but can be wonderfully effective.
Editing software has been extensively used in the last two decades, from hiding blemishes and pasty faces, enhancing the attractiveness of models to adding hair to bald men and beards to those who are clean-shaven. But aside from making people look better, photo editing can be used to enhance buildings or landscapes, especially handy when trying to entice tourists to visit your country.
The program I chose to use is "Picnik", an online editor which doesn't require registration or downloading to work. With an easy interface, and a number of uncomplicated enhancing features, Picnik is ideal for someone without the time or the need to invest in more advanced suite. Its simple method of uploading pictures from your hard drive, editing to your taste and effortless saving allows even the most technologically-challenged computer user to make their photos come to life. I've edited a few of the photos I took on my visit to the old city gaol to show the differences created by using this editing package.
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| Old city gaol entrance, before editing |
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| Old city gaol entrance, after editing |
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| Gaol wall, after editing |
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| Gaol wall, before editing |
The picture on the left is of an internal prison wall, with three of the barred windows, you can just make out three Romanesque windows on the far right of the photo, which would have allowed light into adjoining cells. Again, it's evident that there was plenty of light on what was a fine day, but the cool temperature is clearly visible as well. On the right, the edited shot again displays warmer temperature, with contrast altered to emphasise the shadows on the wall, caused by neighbouring trees.
The final shot I've chosen to post is of the stocks placed outside the entrance of the main building. Again, there is plenty of light, but it's obvious that this shot was not taken in the height of summer. The picture looks cool, with the grass looking limp and lifeless. If anything, a viewer might think this was a wintry day that was sunny by fluke. Also, the stocks itself looks worn, unused for decades, with faded and unvarnished wood. The "after" shot livens up a tired image, with the grass looking healthier thanks to the temperature adjustment, and the stocks looking rejuvenated after altering the contrast setting.
It's clear to see why Discover Ireland and Tourism Ireland would make use of photo editing software. In what is a highly competitive market for a limited number of tourists, Irish tourism agencies need to emphasise Ireland's natural beauty to entice visitors. Just like celebrities appearing in tabloid magazines, the odd enhancement here and there, courtesy of editing software, might exaggerate, but can be wonderfully effective.
Monday, 1 November 2010
The 1911 census: Looking at an Irish townload in the early twentieth century
This week's task in Digital History is to make a spreadsheet using information given by the residents of a townland in Ballymodan, Co. Cork during the 1911 census, which is available from the National Archives of Ireland website. The townland I chose to work on was Clogheenavodig (which appears to be the correct spelling of the name, having endured an apparent temporary name change from the 1901 census, when it was known as Clagheenavodeg, although the townland must be called something else now, as it doesn't appear on Google Maps).Inputting the information was simple enough, and while calculating the averages, medians and standard deviations were more challenging, these were achievable after a little practice, using the template of the 1901 census given to us. The layout of the National Archive's website is easy enough to navigate, making the overall task of looking for information much easier. In addition, that the National Archive has already gone through the original census returns and published the information in a clear script makes the exercise of going through the census returns a less strenuous task for historians and genealogists.
The really interesting aspect of using both the 1901 and 1911 census returns are to look at the people of the area over a ten-year period to see how families changed in the course of that decade. For a start, there's two fewer houses in the townland in 1911 than there were in 1901 (fourteen instead of sixteen), and one house is unoccupied in both returns, suggesting that two houses have either been demolished or rendered in states of such disrepair that there are unfit for habitation, and a house had been abandoned in 1901 and 1911 (though not necessarily the same house).
The families who remained in Clogheenavodig between the two census returns haven't moved anywhere, but have experienced changes, including a large number of bizarre cases involving unusual ageing among the local population. The 1901 census was taken on March 31, and the 1911 census was taken on April 2, therefore you would expect people in both censuses to have aged ten years (or a maximum of eleven, allowing for a birthday on April 1 or 2). This is something which is easier to explain for older people, as registration of birth were made mandatory in the United Kingdom in 1837. However, even teenagers are listed as having a different age to what it should be, either in the 1901 return or the 1911 one. In the Singleton family, two of the children, Hannah and Cornelius (written as Con in the 1901 census) only aged nine years, while their mother, Catherine, managed to age fourteen years in ten years, presumably using those four bonus years to learn how to read and write, as she is listed in the 1911 return as being literate but could neither read nor write when the census was taken a decade previously. In addition, the missing husband of 1901 has returned, his occupation of "general labourer" suggesting that he had left Clogheenavodig to find work.
A number of deaths have almost certainly occurred: the patriarch of the Foley family, John was seventy in 1901 and does not appear in the 1911 census. His wife, Catherine, managed to age twelve years, possibly in an attempt to ensure access to the newly-provided old-age pension introduced by the Old Age Pensions Act of 1908 for people aged seventy or older. Interestingly, while Catherine may have exaggerated her age, her two children only aged seven years over the course of the decade!
Perhaps the saddest death would have been that of Julia Barry, who was 22 in 1901, while living with her husband, Daniel. Ten years later, she is not mentioned, while Daniel is left with three children and listed as a widower; it would be highly plausible to assume she died in childbirth five years previously, meaning she had died before her 28th birthday. In contrast, John O'Leary enjoyed a very long life for the era, being eighty-four in 1901, though dead by 1911.
Perhaps the most interesting puzzle of the census returns from Clogheenavodig surrounds the Donovan family, which has seen two children leave the family home, Cornelius and Margaret. In their stead are two grandchildren of James and Hannah Donovan, a nine year-old named Alphonsus and a seven year-old named Francis. The two children have a different surname to their grandparents, which could imply that they are Margaret's children and that both she and her husband have either died or migrated in search of work, leaving the children in the care of her parents. This is more likely than the other possibility, which is one which would have been nearly unthinkable in a Catholic family in early twentieth century Ireland, that the two boys are the children of one of the Donovans sons, conceived and birthed out of wedlock.
In all, the research carried out by these two censuses paint an interesting picture into the life of a small rural townland, one which is replicated across the country. It perhaps leaves many more questions than answers. Where did the families present in 1901, but absent in 1911, go to and, conversely, where did the families present in 1911, but elsewhere in 1901, come from? What happened to the Burns' family servant of 1901, Mary Hayes, who had been replaced by Honora Meade by 1911? And what happened to three people who were teenagers in 1901, but not mentioned in the 1911 return: Elizabeth Burns, and Cornelius and Margaret Donovan? Had they moved elsewhere for work, or had they died in the interim? The job of a census at the time is to numerate people and determine certain facts about their lives, but census-taking benefits historians too, establishing a social element to the past, providing an insight into the lives of ordinary people, who would otherwise only be registered by the state at birth, marriage and death.Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Radio, radio, radios everywhere
As promised, the second part of my tour of the old city gaol in Cork, focusing on the radio museum, found on the east side of the prison, which was closed in 1923. As I mentioned in my last post, the radio museum was the real reason why I visited the gaol when I was down in Cork in early 2009, before becoming a student in UCC.
After the final prisoners left Cork gaol when it closed in 1923, the prison lay empty and derelict for four years, when a radio station was established in the east wing of the abandoned institution. Ireland's first radio station, 2RN, began broadcasting form Dublin in January 1926, but the signal was often weak in areas far from Dublin, so a Dáil resolution, encouraged by the Minister for Posts and Telegraphs, J.J. Walsh, was passed in 1927 which allowed for the establishment of a radio station (to be called 6CK) and transmitter in Cork to act as a relay for the national programme from Dublin and as a contributor to the new service by producing programmes from the city. The proposal to open a relay station so soon after the opening of the national service, at a time when the economy of the fledgling state was severely stretched following the exhaustiveness of the War of Independence and the Civil War less than a decade prior, drew much criticism from the Department of Finance. The government persevered, however, with Walsh eager to extend the new service to the second city. That he also happened to be a TD for Cork city possibly hastened the rolling out of the relay service.
The first station director of 6CK was Sean Neeson, a graduate of Queen's University, Belfast who had an existing knowledge of the old gaol's interior, having been detained there as a political prisoner by the Free State government during the Civil War.
The radio exhibit starts with a look at the earliest days of radio technology, such as the development of Morse code and an explanation of how sound waves work. This is followed by an exhibit on Guglielmo Marconi, or is supposed to be, this part of the exhibit was not working, nor was it working during my first visit nearly two years ago.
The museum holds a significant number of pieces of equipment used by broadcasters, including a microphone and stand used by John F. Kennedy on his visit to Ireland in June 1963. The microphone and stand were owned by Radio Éireann (as it then was), and were "retired" from service by Paddy O'Connor, a technical supervisor with the Cork relay station after their use by Kennedy on the day he received the freedom of Cork city on Friday, June 28, 1963.
From here, you can see the studio used by 6CK and Radio Éireann, with the small performing area for whatever programme was being broadcast, and the producer's desk outside the studio, with the control panel and the telephone at hand, next to a waxwork figure of a producer. On the wall next to this scene is a display featuring a 1920s map of the world from the United States, listing a number of short wave radio stations from around the globe and explaining how short wave radio works. There are a number of short wave radios under this map, placed to allow people to search for short wave stations today, though sadly these radios did not work, either on this visit, or on my prior visit to the museum.
The next display is that of a myriad of radio sets from numerous countries, made at different times of the twentieth century. If you love old radios, this is probably as good as it gets, with expensive vintage table-top sets of the 1930s mixed with cheaper, mass-produced Bakelite sets of the 1940s, and the popular transistor radios of the 1950s and 1960s. In addition to the sight of these vintage radios, the display incorporates an audio gallery, featuring various news items and entertainment programmes as they heard from the first few decades of radio broadcasting. Broadcasters from America, as well as the BBC and from 2RN/Radio Éireann are heard, encompassing the likes of the Hindenburg disaster, the infamous Hitler declaring Germany to be a country of "one people, one nation, one leader", Edward VIII's abdication message, Franklin D. Roosevelt speech to Congress after Japan's attack on Pearl Harbour, Harry Truman's confirmation that an atomic bomb had been dropped on Hiroshima, as well as lighter events such as Orson Welles' assurance to the American public that "The War of the Worlds" was not a real news story, and performances by Elvis Presley and The Beatles.
The final part of the exhibit is the RTÉ collection, which features pieces of technology used in Irish radio's earliest days, such as portable amplifier and mixer unit used by legendary broadcaster Michael O'Hehir for his GAA and horse racing commentaries, and a ribbon microphone used by Radio Éireann from 1948 to 1957, similar in nature to microphones still used by RTÉ and the BBC today. Also shown are copies of the front covers of popular radio magazines from the 1970s and 1980s, with the RTÉ Guide featuring prominently.
Overall, I enjoyed the radio museum. It feels like having a personal museum, as this exhibition is more hidden than the main gaol exhibition, and doesn't appear to be as popular as the gaol. Perhaps this lack of activity from the general public explains what is a source of great disappointment to me, which is that a number of displays don't work, and clearly haven't for a couple of years. The Cork city gaol website says it houses "two special visitor attractions", but it's clear that one attraction is promoted more than the other, which is a pity. While I recognise that most people would be far more interested in the gaol and the social history it provides, I would like to see more of an effort to bring the radio exhibit back to a level it was clearly at a few years ago, because continuing to let displays break down won't help, and the day might come when we lose one of those "two special visitor attractions" because of neglect, and that would be a travesty.
After the final prisoners left Cork gaol when it closed in 1923, the prison lay empty and derelict for four years, when a radio station was established in the east wing of the abandoned institution. Ireland's first radio station, 2RN, began broadcasting form Dublin in January 1926, but the signal was often weak in areas far from Dublin, so a Dáil resolution, encouraged by the Minister for Posts and Telegraphs, J.J. Walsh, was passed in 1927 which allowed for the establishment of a radio station (to be called 6CK) and transmitter in Cork to act as a relay for the national programme from Dublin and as a contributor to the new service by producing programmes from the city. The proposal to open a relay station so soon after the opening of the national service, at a time when the economy of the fledgling state was severely stretched following the exhaustiveness of the War of Independence and the Civil War less than a decade prior, drew much criticism from the Department of Finance. The government persevered, however, with Walsh eager to extend the new service to the second city. That he also happened to be a TD for Cork city possibly hastened the rolling out of the relay service.
The first station director of 6CK was Sean Neeson, a graduate of Queen's University, Belfast who had an existing knowledge of the old gaol's interior, having been detained there as a political prisoner by the Free State government during the Civil War.
The radio exhibit starts with a look at the earliest days of radio technology, such as the development of Morse code and an explanation of how sound waves work. This is followed by an exhibit on Guglielmo Marconi, or is supposed to be, this part of the exhibit was not working, nor was it working during my first visit nearly two years ago.
The museum holds a significant number of pieces of equipment used by broadcasters, including a microphone and stand used by John F. Kennedy on his visit to Ireland in June 1963. The microphone and stand were owned by Radio Éireann (as it then was), and were "retired" from service by Paddy O'Connor, a technical supervisor with the Cork relay station after their use by Kennedy on the day he received the freedom of Cork city on Friday, June 28, 1963.
Overall, I enjoyed the radio museum. It feels like having a personal museum, as this exhibition is more hidden than the main gaol exhibition, and doesn't appear to be as popular as the gaol. Perhaps this lack of activity from the general public explains what is a source of great disappointment to me, which is that a number of displays don't work, and clearly haven't for a couple of years. The Cork city gaol website says it houses "two special visitor attractions", but it's clear that one attraction is promoted more than the other, which is a pity. While I recognise that most people would be far more interested in the gaol and the social history it provides, I would like to see more of an effort to bring the radio exhibit back to a level it was clearly at a few years ago, because continuing to let displays break down won't help, and the day might come when we lose one of those "two special visitor attractions" because of neglect, and that would be a travesty.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
A (voluntary) visit to an old prison...
As the world and it's mother knows, the jazz festival was on in Cork this past weekend. I did go into town and saw a few acts, but I'm not a big fan of huge crowds standing in small spaces, so on Saturday, I went out of the city centre and headed to the old city gaol in Sunday's Well. It's not the first time I went there: when UCC hosted the World University Debating Championships during Christmas break 2008-9, I was a judge from Galway (though actually representing Manchester, a story for another day), and went to the old gaol on a morning off because it also hosts a radio museum, and I thought it might a nice, relaxing way to ease myself into the day and out of another monster hangover I had "earned" over the course of the week. To be honest, I wasn't at all interested in the gaol at the time, I wanted to see the radio exhibit. On my second visit, though, I decided to actually experience the gaol tour. I'll write about the radio museum in my next post.
The first sight you get of the old prison is the sheer height of the outside walls. Naturally enough, when you design a prison, you want to make the place secure and difficult to break out of, and you can certainly appreciate that no criminal was going to be able to vault over ten metre-high walls and survive the landing. As prisons are supposed to do, the old city gaol does imprint itself on you, emphasising what laid in store for people who broke the law while it functioned between 1824 and 1923. Entering the prison ground via a small stairwell, you reach a second, longer staircase to enter the main area of the prison (I suppose prison-building regulations of the nineteenth century didn't take disabled access into account). Climbing this staircase takes you to the main prison, where you start the tour, which is set in 1865, courtesy of a Sony Walkman (a feature which forced one of the workers at the gaol to explain to a bemused child how this was "like an iPod, but not as good") with a pair of professional actors directing you around the gaol, starting with a wax figure depicting of a frequent female "guest" of Queen Victoria being assisted by a prison matron.
The first room visited shown is that of the Governor, featuring a faded portrait of Victoria above the fireplace. The Governor portrayed is John Barry Murphy, the first Catholic to hold the office, as part of a British approach to Ireland which saw Catholics promoted to prominent, though not top, positions. This extension of important jobs to the burgeoning Catholic middle class was part of a general policy of pacifying Ireland and integrating the troubling nation into the United Kingdom. Murphy would soon experience the political difficulties of his position, as the Fenian uprising of 1867 kicked the view that Ireland was becoming placated into touch.
Going through the west wing of the prison, you get an idea as to conditions of the prison during its century of operation. The thick walls, the narrow corridors and the small windows some 180cm off the ground give an indication of the confinement and isolation felt by the prisoners. The then-common belief that criminality was a contagious disease saw the authorities eager to isolate prisoners where possible, with solitary confinement and strict silence the order of the day.
The cells themselves are Spartan, with a small pot serving as bathroom facilities, and a thin canvas mattress resting on beds barely five centimetres off the ground (and this was an improvement on the old prison which utilised old straw for bedding. Despite what we might call poor conditions, these were probably quite comfortable for many of the inmates, as stories are told by the taped tour guides of petty thieves forced into lives of crime because of abject poverty and hunger. It would appear that poverty was the real crime committed by many of the prisoners, unaccustomed to the decent standard of living enjoyed by the elites of Irish society.
The tour quickly moves on, via assorted waxwork figures of prisoners, wardens, and various members of staff, to the gaol's final years, as a prison for political activists during the War of Independence and, following the transfer of the gaol from British to Irish control, anti-Treaty activists during the Civil War, before the prison closed in 1924, with displays of defiant graffiti from prominent political activists eager to show that hope had not been lost, even as the prison itself deteriorated into a vermin-ridden nightmare, with massive overcrowding forcing up to four prisoners into cells designed to hold no more than one or two people, as the Civil War raged across the city and the country.
The tour gives an insight into the dietary habits of the inmates, with brown bread, milk, Indian meal and porridge being the extent of the nourishment given. A typical timetable is displayed, together with a list of typical jobs given to various prisoners based on sex and severity of the crime which landed the convicts in the gaol in the first place.
Finally, the tour illustrates the development and updating of the prison, from its designing by prominent architect Sir Thomas Deane (who had also designed UCC), the introduction of a water supply from 1858 and of gas lighting in 1865.
To me, it seems odd to discuss the designing and establishment of the gaol at the end of a tour about the prison, but I can understand why this is so: the tour wishes to emphasis the social historical aspect of the institution, placing the histories of the inmates over the mere facts of how the building was constructed. In all, though, it's a tour worth going on, because it's a part of Cork that isn't immediately visible when you get into the city, but is very much a part of Cork's history, and at €7 (€6 for students), is a reasonably priced way to spend an afternoon. Just don't try to sneak through without paying, though...
Next post: the radio museum, which is also in the old gaol!
The first sight you get of the old prison is the sheer height of the outside walls. Naturally enough, when you design a prison, you want to make the place secure and difficult to break out of, and you can certainly appreciate that no criminal was going to be able to vault over ten metre-high walls and survive the landing. As prisons are supposed to do, the old city gaol does imprint itself on you, emphasising what laid in store for people who broke the law while it functioned between 1824 and 1923. Entering the prison ground via a small stairwell, you reach a second, longer staircase to enter the main area of the prison (I suppose prison-building regulations of the nineteenth century didn't take disabled access into account). Climbing this staircase takes you to the main prison, where you start the tour, which is set in 1865, courtesy of a Sony Walkman (a feature which forced one of the workers at the gaol to explain to a bemused child how this was "like an iPod, but not as good") with a pair of professional actors directing you around the gaol, starting with a wax figure depicting of a frequent female "guest" of Queen Victoria being assisted by a prison matron.
Going through the west wing of the prison, you get an idea as to conditions of the prison during its century of operation. The thick walls, the narrow corridors and the small windows some 180cm off the ground give an indication of the confinement and isolation felt by the prisoners. The then-common belief that criminality was a contagious disease saw the authorities eager to isolate prisoners where possible, with solitary confinement and strict silence the order of the day.
The cells themselves are Spartan, with a small pot serving as bathroom facilities, and a thin canvas mattress resting on beds barely five centimetres off the ground (and this was an improvement on the old prison which utilised old straw for bedding. Despite what we might call poor conditions, these were probably quite comfortable for many of the inmates, as stories are told by the taped tour guides of petty thieves forced into lives of crime because of abject poverty and hunger. It would appear that poverty was the real crime committed by many of the prisoners, unaccustomed to the decent standard of living enjoyed by the elites of Irish society.
The tour quickly moves on, via assorted waxwork figures of prisoners, wardens, and various members of staff, to the gaol's final years, as a prison for political activists during the War of Independence and, following the transfer of the gaol from British to Irish control, anti-Treaty activists during the Civil War, before the prison closed in 1924, with displays of defiant graffiti from prominent political activists eager to show that hope had not been lost, even as the prison itself deteriorated into a vermin-ridden nightmare, with massive overcrowding forcing up to four prisoners into cells designed to hold no more than one or two people, as the Civil War raged across the city and the country.
The tour gives an insight into the dietary habits of the inmates, with brown bread, milk, Indian meal and porridge being the extent of the nourishment given. A typical timetable is displayed, together with a list of typical jobs given to various prisoners based on sex and severity of the crime which landed the convicts in the gaol in the first place.
To me, it seems odd to discuss the designing and establishment of the gaol at the end of a tour about the prison, but I can understand why this is so: the tour wishes to emphasis the social historical aspect of the institution, placing the histories of the inmates over the mere facts of how the building was constructed. In all, though, it's a tour worth going on, because it's a part of Cork that isn't immediately visible when you get into the city, but is very much a part of Cork's history, and at €7 (€6 for students), is a reasonably priced way to spend an afternoon. Just don't try to sneak through without paying, though...
Next post: the radio museum, which is also in the old gaol!
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Zotero: Zo Zimple
In our digital history class two weeks back we were told about some free programs available on the Internet to help with citations and bibliographies, something which is important when you're writing any essay, but even more so when you're working on a thesis, because there's so much information you need to put in, and it's easy to miss a reference when you're rushing through seventy or eighty pages in late September before bringing it to the binders. One of the programs was Zotero ("zoh-TAIR-oh", according to the program's start guide), which allows you to extract information from library and bookstore websites by going through catalogues and collecting information on the book or article you want to use, as well as storing the information for later reference. A slight problem is that it's an extension for the Firefox web browser, meaning you need to download Firefox in order to use Zotero if you normally use Internet Explorer or Google Chrome.
I was amazed when learning about this program, the various things which the program can do left me rather stunned, in much the same way I was when I first encountered iTunes (even if you don't like iTunes, it's still pretty cool to be able to access millions of songs on the Internet, and have all your own music in one place too). Sadly my amazement slowly receded as it dawned on me that this program existed during the summer, while I was writing another thesis. The thought of those hours I spent citing and referencing the old-fashioned way while there was a faster way of doing it via a free downloadable program nearly brought tears to my eyes, and I was rather well organised! I can only imagine the length of time it takes when one does their referencing at the end, after writing the rest of the thesis.
The program looks simple enough, with an easily navigational interface which lets you organise files efficiently and without difficulty. But the most impressive feature is its ability to save an article or a catalogue entry which would normally require me to either manually save a PDF (if it's an article) to my computer, which would invariably get lost among the plethora of documents, music, video games and web pages currently clogging my laptop. The delight of being able to save a file with two clicks, knowing that I can access it at a later date anywhere in the world on any computer, has re-emphasised the reason why I love modern technology (especially if it's free!). This next thesis has already been made that little bit easier to deal with.
And yes, the tabloid-sounding title I gave this post was my idea, and I'll be expecting a royalty cheque if Zotero ever use that as a slogan.
I was amazed when learning about this program, the various things which the program can do left me rather stunned, in much the same way I was when I first encountered iTunes (even if you don't like iTunes, it's still pretty cool to be able to access millions of songs on the Internet, and have all your own music in one place too). Sadly my amazement slowly receded as it dawned on me that this program existed during the summer, while I was writing another thesis. The thought of those hours I spent citing and referencing the old-fashioned way while there was a faster way of doing it via a free downloadable program nearly brought tears to my eyes, and I was rather well organised! I can only imagine the length of time it takes when one does their referencing at the end, after writing the rest of the thesis.
The program looks simple enough, with an easily navigational interface which lets you organise files efficiently and without difficulty. But the most impressive feature is its ability to save an article or a catalogue entry which would normally require me to either manually save a PDF (if it's an article) to my computer, which would invariably get lost among the plethora of documents, music, video games and web pages currently clogging my laptop. The delight of being able to save a file with two clicks, knowing that I can access it at a later date anywhere in the world on any computer, has re-emphasised the reason why I love modern technology (especially if it's free!). This next thesis has already been made that little bit easier to deal with.
And yes, the tabloid-sounding title I gave this post was my idea, and I'll be expecting a royalty cheque if Zotero ever use that as a slogan.
Saturday, 23 October 2010
Rooney's U-turn
So, Wayne Rooney has signed a new five-year deal with Manchester United, four days after saying he wouldn't sign any new contract and three days after saying he wanted to leave the club, all but reducing United's manager Sir Alex Ferguson to tears at the press conference ahead of the club's midweek European tie against Bursaspor. Interestingly, Manchester City boss Roberto Mancini, one of the few men who could afford to buy and pay Rooney to play for his club, said as early as Thursday that the player would probably stay at Old Trafford, as this kind of behaviour occurs often in Mancini's native Italy, apparently a ploy used by talismanic players to a squeeze a bump in pay from their employers. If that's the case, one could say that Rooney's intelligence has been underestimated. However, the way he went about this, assuming this was an elaborate ploy of his own concoction, was completely misguided and has left a bitter taste in the mouths of United supporters, with Max Clifford acknowledging the entire affair as "a public relations disaster".
Could it be that under a guise of "upwardly mobile chav" old Wayne is secretly a man of great intellect? To be fair, not all footballers are the stereotypical dullards we're told they are. When Burnley's captain, Clarke Carlisle, appeared on three editions of "Countdown" last February, he became the first Premier League footballer to appear on the show, with RTÉ and BBC websites both dedicating coverage to the player's appearances on a programme that neither broadcaster show. Yahoo Sport offered a list of footballers who also buck the stereotype; much as I dislike Frank Lampard (possibly only because he plays for Chelsea), I can't help but be impressed, and not a little envious, that he has 12 GCSE's, an A* in Latin, and an IQ of 150.
That said, Wayne is probably not the sharpest tool in the shed: he was embroiled in a tabloid scandal in 2004 after sleeping with a number of prostitutes, including a 48-year old grandmother known as "Auld Slapper" (which I'll assume is an affectionate nickname). Having rebuilt his relationship with his future wife Coleen and after handling the taunting of crowds across England, Rooney was then found last month to have been playing with prostitutes again, clearly forgetting that this sort of behaviour does not help with your marriage, or indeed help secure contracts with companies willing to pay you a small fortune to wear their suit/ watch/ after shave.
Speaking of trust, there's the small matter of dealing with the Manchester United fans who felt aggrieved following the news that Rooney wanted to leave the club, including the ones who congregated outside his house on Wednesday evening, presumably looking to have a small chat with the want-away striker and "persuade" him that United is the best club he could play for. Naturally, after running the club and its supporters through the mill during the week, Rooney has to convince people that he still loves United, and is eager to help the club to future success, beginning the new charm offensive via the club's website, shortly after signing the new contract. Ferguson is eager to draw a line under the turbulence of the past few days, preferring to focus on this weekend's game against Stoke, but United's supporters will not be as quick to move on. Most fans let the news of his cheating on his wife slide, but the view that he held his club, and the manager who had helped develop him into one of the finest players of his generation, will mean a harder sell of Rooney's loyalty to the Old Trafford faithful.
Could it be that under a guise of "upwardly mobile chav" old Wayne is secretly a man of great intellect? To be fair, not all footballers are the stereotypical dullards we're told they are. When Burnley's captain, Clarke Carlisle, appeared on three editions of "Countdown" last February, he became the first Premier League footballer to appear on the show, with RTÉ and BBC websites both dedicating coverage to the player's appearances on a programme that neither broadcaster show. Yahoo Sport offered a list of footballers who also buck the stereotype; much as I dislike Frank Lampard (possibly only because he plays for Chelsea), I can't help but be impressed, and not a little envious, that he has 12 GCSE's, an A* in Latin, and an IQ of 150.
That said, Wayne is probably not the sharpest tool in the shed: he was embroiled in a tabloid scandal in 2004 after sleeping with a number of prostitutes, including a 48-year old grandmother known as "Auld Slapper" (which I'll assume is an affectionate nickname). Having rebuilt his relationship with his future wife Coleen and after handling the taunting of crowds across England, Rooney was then found last month to have been playing with prostitutes again, clearly forgetting that this sort of behaviour does not help with your marriage, or indeed help secure contracts with companies willing to pay you a small fortune to wear their suit/ watch/ after shave.
Speaking of trust, there's the small matter of dealing with the Manchester United fans who felt aggrieved following the news that Rooney wanted to leave the club, including the ones who congregated outside his house on Wednesday evening, presumably looking to have a small chat with the want-away striker and "persuade" him that United is the best club he could play for. Naturally, after running the club and its supporters through the mill during the week, Rooney has to convince people that he still loves United, and is eager to help the club to future success, beginning the new charm offensive via the club's website, shortly after signing the new contract. Ferguson is eager to draw a line under the turbulence of the past few days, preferring to focus on this weekend's game against Stoke, but United's supporters will not be as quick to move on. Most fans let the news of his cheating on his wife slide, but the view that he held his club, and the manager who had helped develop him into one of the finest players of his generation, will mean a harder sell of Rooney's loyalty to the Old Trafford faithful.
Monday, 18 October 2010
Reeling in the Years
With baited breath, I looked forward to seeing the return of RTÉ's excellent "Reeling in the Years" retrospective, with the year 2000 being shown last night. It's a show that clearly doesn't appeal merely to history graduates, since the series from the 1960s to the 1990s still claim huge audiences every time they're repeated, even though the first batch of episodes, covering the 1980s, first aired eleven years ago. That's probably the first horific thing I realised; that the first series, which I fondly remember seeing first time around back in 1999, was first shown over a decade ago. Seeing the 1990s series in 2000 felt a little odd, because the last episode was shown less than a year after the featured year itself had finished, but for me the series still felt like watching history, because the early 1990s are a bit hazy. I don't have that excuse now, because I can vividly remember the year 2000 (well, aside from some of the music; I'm not a big fan of modern pop, if it was released after 1995, I'm not really interested). As I watched a lamb defecate on Bono's leather jacket sleeve, it dawned on me that ten full years has already elapsed. It's all well and good to look at the Medieval perios as "history", but there must a certain amount of discomfort when a programme is shown featured a year you easily remember, yet it's called "retrospective" (merely a polite way of saying "if you remember it, you're old". It certainly felt like that to me last night!
The whole process got me thinking about relative history, basically recent events which happened in the last couple of decades. I have a video recording of the 1992 "Late Late Toy Show" featuring Uncle Gay, one of the many obligatory multi-coloured jumpers he donned for the occassion annually, assisted by some woman named Eileen who I never heard of before or since, and the lad who was on the children's quiz "Physiquiz" at the time before disappearing soon after, before reappearring for another RTÉ kids quiz about a decade later. Anyway, aside from an insight into what the kiddies wanted from Santa during the year with record unemployment (er, until this year), one toy was discussed as the most popular toy when it was first featured on the Late Late Toy Show eighteen years previously, in 1974. I could almost sense the dismay in Uncle Gay's voice when he reminisced about the edition from eighteen years previously. I can only imagine how he'd feel if he saw that 1992 episode, a further eighteen years after that toy was featured in 1974. I have a number of video recordings from the early 1990s, most of which were from The Children's Channel (TCC). Now, I didn't have satellite television growing up (in fact, my parents still don't have anything other than RTÉ One, Two and TG4. The mountains of Connemara block the signal from TV3, though they're not missing much), but a friend of my Mom's did, and she recorded some programmes from TCC and the Cartoon Network in 1994 which I still sometimes watch, as part of a general nostalgic trip I travel on. The programmes themselves don't make me think of days gone by, or wish that such programmes filled the children's schedules instead of what is currently shown, but the increasing length of time travelled since their first airings make me think. The majority of the tapes are from spring 1994, sixteen years ago. 1994 is the half-way point between 2010 and 1978. I wasn't born until 1986, so it shouldn't bother me, not as much as someone who was born in 1978, or indeed as much as someone who easily remembers 1978 too, yet the whole thing does unfaze me somewhat.
When I look at the children featured on the tapes, either in the shows themselves or on the adverts aimed at children (many of which probably wouldn't be allowed to air today), I wonder where those kids are, what they're up to, and have they seen the commercial featuring their mother and the naked rear end looking clammy after enduring an inferior brand of nappies. This is probably the main source of my dismay (if that's the right word); the older children featured were about my age in 1994, and would therefore now be adults in their mid-to-late twenties, and they're only getting older. This of course means that I'm getting older too, and though being 24 isn't old (despite the opinions of various undergrads still in their teens I encounter), it's certainly a lot older than 8. The less said about the fact that 24 is the mid-point between being 8 years old and 40 years old, the better for my sanity. I should probably relax, and embrace the passage of time, but the discomfort I have that the early 1990s, which I vividly and fondly remember, are nearly two decades in the past and only drifting further into history, will increase.
The whole process got me thinking about relative history, basically recent events which happened in the last couple of decades. I have a video recording of the 1992 "Late Late Toy Show" featuring Uncle Gay, one of the many obligatory multi-coloured jumpers he donned for the occassion annually, assisted by some woman named Eileen who I never heard of before or since, and the lad who was on the children's quiz "Physiquiz" at the time before disappearing soon after, before reappearring for another RTÉ kids quiz about a decade later. Anyway, aside from an insight into what the kiddies wanted from Santa during the year with record unemployment (er, until this year), one toy was discussed as the most popular toy when it was first featured on the Late Late Toy Show eighteen years previously, in 1974. I could almost sense the dismay in Uncle Gay's voice when he reminisced about the edition from eighteen years previously. I can only imagine how he'd feel if he saw that 1992 episode, a further eighteen years after that toy was featured in 1974. I have a number of video recordings from the early 1990s, most of which were from The Children's Channel (TCC). Now, I didn't have satellite television growing up (in fact, my parents still don't have anything other than RTÉ One, Two and TG4. The mountains of Connemara block the signal from TV3, though they're not missing much), but a friend of my Mom's did, and she recorded some programmes from TCC and the Cartoon Network in 1994 which I still sometimes watch, as part of a general nostalgic trip I travel on. The programmes themselves don't make me think of days gone by, or wish that such programmes filled the children's schedules instead of what is currently shown, but the increasing length of time travelled since their first airings make me think. The majority of the tapes are from spring 1994, sixteen years ago. 1994 is the half-way point between 2010 and 1978. I wasn't born until 1986, so it shouldn't bother me, not as much as someone who was born in 1978, or indeed as much as someone who easily remembers 1978 too, yet the whole thing does unfaze me somewhat.
When I look at the children featured on the tapes, either in the shows themselves or on the adverts aimed at children (many of which probably wouldn't be allowed to air today), I wonder where those kids are, what they're up to, and have they seen the commercial featuring their mother and the naked rear end looking clammy after enduring an inferior brand of nappies. This is probably the main source of my dismay (if that's the right word); the older children featured were about my age in 1994, and would therefore now be adults in their mid-to-late twenties, and they're only getting older. This of course means that I'm getting older too, and though being 24 isn't old (despite the opinions of various undergrads still in their teens I encounter), it's certainly a lot older than 8. The less said about the fact that 24 is the mid-point between being 8 years old and 40 years old, the better for my sanity. I should probably relax, and embrace the passage of time, but the discomfort I have that the early 1990s, which I vividly and fondly remember, are nearly two decades in the past and only drifting further into history, will increase.
Monday, 11 October 2010
Blogging as a tool to aid student teachers
An article by Pedro Hernández-Ramos in the Journal of Interactive Online Learning discusses the use of blogging and interactive forums in the training of student teachers. The article can be found here.
The author recognises at the start of his piece how the teaching profession suffers from a high level of job dissatisfaction, with nearly 50% of teachers expected to leave the profession within five years. Hernández-Ramos correctly attributes this to a disillusionment among teachers where they feel they lack a voice, being instead akin to a machine instructing pupils from a standard curriculum. The challenge of showing the importance of teaching to students was observed, with the goal of addressing this challenge through the use of blogging and discussion forums as a way to encourage reflective learning.
The use of personal thoughts as a way of reflective learning is not new, as students have long kept journals as a means of reflecting on their learning, but as is pointed out in the article, the traditional printed journal was written with the express intent of targeting only one person, the teacher grading the work, tailoring the content to please the sole reader and receiving very limited feedback or correspondence. Blogging allows for the same introspective experience while addressing a potentially larger audience, where the entire planet can potentially access your opinions, offering analysis and opinions on the piece. This is beneficial to the overall work, as the writer must focus more on what they write and not tailor it to target any one individual.
The use of blogs can be additionally beneficial to students uncomfortable with contributing in the traditional classroom environment, where a limited timeframe and large numbers restrict the ability for less forthright students to engage with the class. The ability to read a post and reply to it at any time, from the university library or one's own bedroom allows for a more comfortable approach to engaging with others outside of the intensity of the classroom.
As the article suggests, the main benefit of using blogs and discussion forums as part of the education process is the development of a collaborative structure, where participants comment on, offer feedback to, and peer review each other's posts and opinions. Hernández-Ramos points out that the vast majority of the class satisfactorily fulfilled the class requirements (only nine of the 56 students failed to do so), arguing that this proved that the project encouraged motivation and consistency from the students, who were largely enthusiastic about the project. A common theme mentioned by the bloggers was their experience of integrating technology into their lesson plans.
In spite of the overall enthusiasm of the student teachers, Hernández-Ramon admits that only five out of 56 planned to incorporate technology into their teaching once they entered the profession, though others hesitated only because of uncertainty as to what resources might be available in schools to allow for such an incorporation. The author also recognises the need for input from the course instructor. Simply offering the tools available from blogging and discussion forums fail to offer a proper service, with students often lacking direction and the course unable to encourage motivation or any significant activity from participants.
Overall, the use of blogging and discussion forums will continue to grow. The Internet has grown in the last two decades to become an all-encompassing and important tool utilised by humanity. The current generation of students are the last to experience life without the Internet and the tools it provides, though all have used the Internet to assist them in their studies to some extent. As years progress, students will enrol into universities having already engaged with the Internet, blogging and forums from an early age, and therefore completely comfortable with the concept of integrating technology into their careers. This new method of teaching may encourage teachers to find their "voice", and to use it in their vocation, hopefully keeping more of them in the profession.
Saturday, 2 October 2010
Germany pays off a 91-year debt
Tomorrow, Germany will pay €70 million as the final instalment of a reparations bill handed to it over nine decades ago. Ninety-one years after the Treaty of Versailles, and the much-hated "guilt clause" placing all blame for the First World War on German shoulders (because, you know, Austria-Hungary had nothing to do with sparking the conflict: http://www.tentimesone.com/if-world-war-one-was-a-bar-fight/), the federal government will settle its debt on the twentieth anniversary of reunification. The story is on the BBC News website.
It's incredible to think that Germany was still paying World War One reparations nearly a century later. That said, the Weimar governments of the 1920s couldn't afford to pay it, especially with the hyperinflation of the decade, while the Nazis made their refusal to pay it a key part of the plan to dismantle the Treaty of Versailles. I had thought that the bill was dropped quietly in the early 1950s, after the Allies had defeated Germany in the Second World War and settled that account more rapidly, in addition to the fact that there were then two Germanies, both claiming to be the legitimate German state, but still not responsible for picking up the tab. Upon reunification, Germany agreed to pay a much-reduced bill, and will tomorrow put to bed a relic of history.
Speaking of relics of history, I see "Back to the Future" is in cinemas this week. I've seen the DVD loads of times, and it's on TV every Christmas, but I love this movie, so I'll be happy to pay to see it on the big screen, since I didn't get to the first time round. The timing of the re-release is a bit off, given that it was released in America in July 1985, and in Ireland in December 1985. Not that it matters, really, I'm just looking forward to seeing a movie I love in the cinema.
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
My Politics MA thesis (AKA How I Spent My Summer)
I was asked by Dr. Mike Cosgrave to consider posting my thesis as a PDF file to my blog. I've agreed to do so, since I wouldn't mind getting my work out to an audience larger than those who might stumble across it in the UCC library basement. It might also help anyone planning to do a minor thesis at some point, and show an example of the kind of work you might be expected to do. At the very least, I'd like people to read it; I've been told it's an interesting topic, hopefully I've done it justice.
You can find it here.
That said, I don't know how good a piece of work this is. I haven't got a result yet, which isn't surprising really, as the submission date isn't until Friday. This is purely an example of a thesis. I merely hope that it's a good example. We'll find out soon enough.
Edit: Results are out, it's a good'un! I didn't expect a First, but I'll take it!
Edit: Results are out, it's a good'un! I didn't expect a First, but I'll take it!
Reboot
Hi....
So, after nearly two years, I decided to show my face. What do I have to say for myself? Er, sorry.
I could've just started anew with a different blog, but I've decided to try again with my old one, not least because I have a reason to start blogging again, as it's a core part of one of my MA modules this year, Digital History.
This might be a good point to introduce myself, since this is aimed at people who don't know me. I'm a 24 year-old student in University College Cork, but originally from Conamara, Co. Galway. Having spent my hazy undergrad days in NUI Galway (or indeed just old University College Galway), I spent two years in the real world, selling hot chicken baguettes and cans of Coke to Galway students, and decided I really wanted to get back into college. So, last year I moved to Cork and did an MA in Politics. I recently finished my thesis, which was on British political opinion and the formation and first decade of commercial television. I'm back doing another MA, this time in History of Irish Media and Journalism, to expand my knowledge of the field, hopefully being able to eventually move on to a PhD in the area. The fact that a second MA keeps me out of the real world a little longer is purely coincidental, I assure you.
I have a special interest in television history, old programmes, adverts, TV guides, teletext pages, the lot. I'm not sure why I'm so interested in such things, though I imagine the copious amount of hours spent watching television as a child and as an adult may explain at least part of it.
I suppose I should now try to sell my blog, and justify both its existence and you spending time reading it. I'll aim to cover topics relevant to my studies, but also have a look at some contemporary news stories, preferably lighter ones that don't have doom and gloom in them. Besides, I have a number of friends who cover the bigger stories with greater elucidation than I could ever manage, so it might be better all round if I focus on things my friends aren't already covering.
That's it for now, and I promise that the next post won't take 22 months.
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