“When I saw that, I thought: ‘These people are actually doing something’. I just opened my laptop and sent an application to join.”
Then There’s Ruark and Ben
Ruark, Chair of the Cork branch, has just finished Secondary School. This is the first time he has lived away from home. “I read a few articles. The ones that stood out to me were written by Fergal Twomey, our previous National Chairperson,” he says. “I joined off the back of that.” Ben is a sound engineer. His asthma has deteriorated since moving into the Barracks, but he is undeterred. Identifying as anti-fascist, he is concerned about the rise of right-wing nationalism and anti-immigrant sentiment. When the Irish far-right figure, and former journalist, Gemma O’Doherty, announced a meeting in the CYM’s beloved An Spailpín Fánach, the members joined a cohort of People Before Profit (PBP) activists in Cork to organise a large protest. Near Cork’s Kent Train Station, on a green partition erected by Irish developers BAM, Alex’s handwriting reads: ‘Racists Not Welcome’. It is written in both English and Irish.
A L EX HOM I T S AT C ON NOL LY B O OKS
Accusations of Hypocrisy
Not everyone sees the CYM in a benign light. Other left-leaning groups have – somewhat typically – accused its members of posing as working-class heroes, while belonging to bourgeois families. Critics also insist that homeless people – even those not affiliated with the CYM – should be allowed to move into the house. “I would like to note that we’re not social workers,” Ben says coolly in response. “We have no ability to provide for [homeless] people’s needs.” What does Alex think? He shakes his head. “It’s a good question,” he says, “but we have a set of rules that govern how the house is run, and when we had people over, who weren’t members, I kind of thought: ‘why would these rules be applicable to them’. We thought about it for some time. When all the people who were non-members moved out, we decided that we would only admit CYM members, so that there would be some sort of internal consistency.”
The Story of Eoin
PHOTOGRAPHY: SHAMIM MALEKMIAN
The last resident of Connolly Barracks is Eoin McCarthy. He is a member of the Communist Party of Ireland. In his sixties, he has lived in the barracks for some time. However, Eoin has recently been given an official letter from the CYM, telling him that he must leave. The letter says that Eoin has transgressed “principle 3.F” of the Barracks rules. Under said principle, “Residents who use the house without contributing anything to its maintenance, threaten other residents, or endanger the project can have their residence revoked by democratic decision of the residents.” Kevin says that Eoin initiated a physical altercation with him. An in-house meeting was convened, during which the others say that Eoin volunteered to move out. “He is of the belief that I was trying to instigate an atmosphere where we were just generally being very hostile toward him,” Kevin says. “This incident happened seven or eight months ago, and I think in a lot of situations in different houses he would’ve been removed,
There is a stigma for us men, to open up about our mental health, so men take their lives
like, immediately, but we have tried to act democratically. “We had a vote within the branch,” he adds. “We’re giving him the right to appeal, but it’s an ongoing issue.” Eoin has now appealed the decision. He says he was made to feel disrespected and isolated in the house. “There were no mechanisms in place to deal with noise issues or problems and these will need to be addressed, if Connolly Barracks has any prospect of being sustainable,” he said in a Facebook message.
A Sense of Purpose
In contrast, the other occupants of Connolly Barracks say that they have found refuge in the CYM. Being involved in the movement has given them a sense of purpose. “I’ll always be very grateful that I have found like-minded people,” Kevin says, “but also a greater project that I can subsume myself into. It gives meaning to my life, more than anything else.” Ida says that “the sense of comradeship” in the house has made her content. She likes living with people who have “the same political end-goal, who have each other’s back.” Ben says there have been days that merely waking up has seemed like a colossal task, but if one wakes up in the Barracks, “at the end of the day everybody’s laughing and has a good
time.” “I’m quite happy to pursue a goal towards a struggle that is going to fundamentally change Ireland,” Alex says. “I get a personal sense of satisfaction and a sense of fulfilment out of it, and I know my members do too.”
Remembering Seby
There is one other dark note. Just a few weeks ago, the Connolly Youth Movement lost a 17-year-old member, Sebastian Stroie. The son of Romanian immigrants, Sebastian apparently jumped off a building in Dublin to his death. Alex, who’s carrying a book called To Die For The People by African-American political activist, Huey P. Newton, wants “Seby” to be mentioned. “His death has deeply impacted me,” Alex confesses. “I spent a week at home crying, and I’m still in shock to be perfectly honest. I can’t wrap my head around it that Seby is not going to the bookshop anymore, or interacting with us, or posting something [online].” A UNICEF report has confirmed that Ireland has one of the highest rates of teen suicide in the EU. Nevertheless, Alex says he felt “tremendous guilt” for not being able to help Seby. But being the sole source of comfort for an undisclosed number of young members is a task beyond his capabilities. “It feels like it’s my fault, and I know it’s not,” he reflects. “There is a stigma for us men, to open up about our mental health, so men take their lives. I encourage everyone, including myself, to talk to a therapist. But, yes, in the CYM, we want to create an atmosphere for young people to be able to share their problems.” As residents of the Barracks light up the house with candles and battery-powered fairy lights, they wonder if Seby would have been happier if he had lived among them. The group then poses for a photo in front of the house. “Will people be able to see the words Connolly Barracks in the photo?” Ida asks. They will, I say and wander off into the night, bleakly aware that no one knows what the future holds.
HOTPRESS.COM 059