Michael von Siegel and Naoise Ó Cairealláin don’t have much in common.
Von Siegel grew up in Landsdowne, outside of Philadelphia, while Ó Cairealláin was born across the Atlantic in Belfast.
Both, however, have a distinct and passionate interest in the Irish language. Just like a lot of folks these days.
“There’s so many meet-up groups now in the Philly area,” von Siegel told Irish America, adding that his Germanic name conceals a grandmother from Mayo.
Ó Cairealláin, meanwhile, is currently travelling all around the world as a member of the Irish hip-hop trio Kneecap.
In December, Kneecap – which performs all of their songs in Irish Gaelic – is making a highly-anticipated return to Ireland, with two shows in Killarney followed by two at Dublin’s 3Arena.
Kneecap’s world tour then moves on to – of all places – Tokyo.
Irish-language hip-hop concerts – in Japan, no less – would have been unheard of 10 years ago.
Yet this is just the kind of Irish language revival both Manchán Magan and Linda Ervine worked years to see.
Magan, a celebrated writer and filmmaker who worked tirelessly to make sure people kept talking about – and in – Irish, died at the age of 55, following a prostate cancer diagnosis, this past October.
“Manchán was a passionate advocate for our language and culture, whose work illuminated the richness of Ireland’s landscape, history and heritage,” Taoiseach Micheál Martin said.
The Irish language torch will be carried forth by the likes of Linda Ervine.
She is an unlikely advocate.
Ervine grew up in a working-class Protestant family, and is married to the brother of onetime Unionist Volunteer Force member and later Progressive Unionist Party leader David Ervine.
And yet, Linda Ervine has spent years working to bring Northern Ireland’s communities together through language.
Ervine is manager of the Turas Irish Language Centre in Belfast and founder of Scoil na Seolta, considered the first Integrated Irish-language school.
Which is why Ervine was awarded an honorary degree from Trinity College Dublin back in June.
“She argues forcefully that the Irish language is not something for Unionists to fear. Rather, they should embrace it as part of their own heritage,” Trinity College officials said. “In this regard she has made a remarkable and entirely unique contribution to the development of both the Irish language in Belfast, and to cross-community understanding in Northern Ireland.”
Because of people like Ervine and Magan, interest in – and advocacy for – the Irish language is exploding.
In September, more than 20,000 people descended upon Dublin to participate in what was called “Cearta: The National Pro-test for the Irish Language and Gaeltacht.”
In November, Queens University Belfast announced that student interest in its Irish-language programs had increased more than 200 percent.
None of which would be all that surprising in Philadelphia, which has long been a hub of American Irish-language activity.
“A lot of the credit has to go to the dedicated individuals who keep [Irish language education] going,” Villanova adjunct professor Michael Malloy told Irish America, adding that a long history of immigration, and an impressive concentration of colleges, help explain why Philly has such an active Gaeilge scene.
Ó Cairealláin and his Kneecap mates actually swung through Philly last year, as part of their own musical mission to breathe new life into one of Europe’s oldest spoken languages.
The New Yorker magazine tagged along when Kneecap sold out Philly’s Fillmore, despite lyrics that were literally incomprehensible to most fans.
“If you can’t understand what we’re saying,” Ó Cairealláin bellowed, “that’s because we’re speaking Irish.”
Discussing what’s become known as the “Kneecap effect,” Irish comedian Shane Byrne told the Irish Times newspaper earlier this year: “It’s getting a bit sexy, it’s a bit trendy now to speak Irish.”
Yet even before Kneecap toured the U.S. – and made a zany, hit movie about their unlikely rise to fame, starring Oscar-nominee Michael Fassbender – Philadelphia was at the forefront of this “sexy” movement.
Prof. Malloy teaches and helps out with several Villanova Irish language programs, while LaSalle and UPenn also offer courses and workshops. Havertown’s Irish Diaspora Center has also hosted regular classes.
And while interest does tend to peak around St. Patrick’s Day, this is clearly a year-round passion in and around Philly.
Last June, the Commodore Barry Arts and Cultural Center in Mount Airy hosted its annual Satharn na nGael (meaning “Gaelic Saturday”) – a day-long immersion in the language, music, poetry and folklore of Ireland.
So, from Philly-based Facebook groups and college classrooms, to patrons at Centre City pubs like Fado (“long ago”) or Tir na Nog (“land of the young”), Pennsylvanians are clearly doing their part to preserve a language that the heritage group UNESCO defines as “endangered.”
“Americans will always have a strong interest in their backgrounds, and where they come from,” Michael von Siegel, who teaches an Irish language course for beginning and intermediate learners in Philly’s Center City area, believes.
Amidst America’s raging debates over immigration, the Irish language is not only surviving, but thriving, in a city synonymous with red-white-and-blue patriotism and the revered Founding Fathers.
And if linguistic diversity such as this is a problem, it’s been one for a long time.
As a British observer once noted of General George Washington’s troops: “The Irish language was as commonly spoken in the American ranks as English.”
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