Love of language
He moans about being forced to “waste my time and effort on something that will soon be dead,” as opposed to wasting his valuable time and effort on something that will never die, like the daily use of mathematical theorems when running for the bus or ensuring that the native ground worm is copulating correctly, or perhaps even being able to recite all of Shakespeare’s sonnets while doing the washing up.
What a pity Mr Reidy cannot take any pleasure or pride in something that makes him unique on the world stage.
Isn’t it a shame that he can’t muster the slightest piece of enthusiasm for our heritage, which he so obviously disdains? I find it hard to comprehend how a citizen can take such little interest or pride in any aspect of our national heritage, regardless of its shape or form.
I am proud to live as a ‘true Gael,’ even if I can no longer utter much more than the usual cúpla focail.
If Mr Reidy doesn’t wish to be classed as a ‘true Gael,’ there are many lining up at our ports and airports who would love the chance to become one.
Why should the whole teaching practice be jettisoned in favour of the minority who find it too tedious, too boring and too hard to accomplish?
Irish just happens to be a beautiful language that our forefathers spoke.
Maybe if it had died with them Mr Reidy would be happier. He would have plenty of time then to apply himself to more worthy subjects that he seems to think will be of greater value to him.
Sinéad McSweeney,
Ongar Park,
Dublin 15.
