Earlier: The Real Fear Is Political Contagion
Via Joe Higgins
You made a scene.
Banker turned graphics geek, Aimée Stewart of Infographic Natives puts a visual to the 13000 articles published across 3600 publications in 99 countries.
Ireland voted yes and the world was listening. Here’s an infographic visualising the conversation…
Gerard McCarthy writes:
You might like to add this. Constituencies scaled to electorate….
Geoffrey Keating of creative agency Each And Other writes:
Inspired by your bad form post, we decided to redesign the Marriage Equality ballot form, designed specifically for voters with low levels of literacy and visual impairments.
Ballot design is highly regulated at the moment, but we think that even some small design improvements could help voters successfully cast their ballots…[more at link below]
Rainbow-coloured signage, looks like a Yes vote from the good people on Morehampton lane
Ahead of Friday’s Marriage Referendum, Bray (County Wicklow) native Roisín Hughes, now in Chicago, U.S.A., shares her story in a bid to sway the undecided and inspire the don’t knows.
One thing is certain: May 22nd is a date that I will never pass over arbitrarily as I flick through my ’30 Rock’ desk calendar — my niece, who turns six on that date this year, will make sure of that. I can only hope that the date will be special to me for years to come in another way as well. Time, dates, days…they are funny little things.
A mere decade ago, I was a third year college student, enjoying the typical antics that are associated with university life in Dublin, Ireland: surrounded by fantastic lifelong friends, playing field hockey at college level, holding my head above water at exam time, and generally living what most would consider a wonderful life. I was also living a wonderful lie. Since my early teens, I had been fairly certain that I was gay.
For those unfamiliar, the best way to describe the day-to-day impact of shielding that lie is this: Every time something truly amazing happened in my life, (and many things did, I consider my adolescence to have been a very happy and fulfilling one), that lie tapped me on the shoulder, reminding me that nothing was quite as fantastic as it seemed.
Each time a sad situation arose, it was even more difficult to surmount because of the dark cloud of lies I told myself and everyone I loved every day. Every time one of my siblings brought a significant other home, I felt a tremendous ball of sadness in the pit of my stomach: A sadness borne of jealousy, fear, and shame.
Every time a scandal broke out in my small town, nothing seemed to compare to the wrath of my own private scandal. There were some dark days during those years. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would do one of two things: Marry a boy that I got along well with, avoid physical contact with him at all costs and hope that our mutual obsession with all things sport-related would get us through the decades of companionship; or die a spinster and possibly adopt some cats (I hate cats).
In 10 short years, the LGBT equal rights movement has witnessed an avalanche of progress. To bring the countless court victories and law amendments down to a personal level, consider this: On this day, I calculate that it has been over 8 years since I felt any semblance of that lie tap my shoulder. What a feat! Would-be husbands! Cats! You’re all safe!
Consider the shifts: My shame has been replaced with a beaming pride. My years spent in fear at my all-female Catholic school have been usurped by four years working for the greatest, most inclusive company in the world, Salesforce.
My CEO, Marc Benioff, recently took to Twitter to take a stand against Indiana’s ‘Religious Freedom’ Law. My brother, Mike, has recently become heavily involved in Procter & Gamble’s LGBT ally program, GABLE. The emails that he sends me about his participation and support of that group bring a lump to my throat without fail.
Nine months ago, I wed my best friend, the love of my life, Kristen. As the Irish would say: I did well for myself. She’s gorgeous, inside and out, a gem of a human being.
A 100 of our close family and friends traveled from Ireland and Iowa to Chicago last summer to witness and partake in our wedding. My Dad walked me down the aisle just as he had my two straight sisters previously.
It was a wonderful occasion, the best of my life, one that I had not imagined could occur until very recently — the same applies to the Marriage Equality referendum in Ireland. I remember speaking with my gay brother, David, who is 2 years my elder, shortly after we had both come out to each other.
At the time, our options were incredibly limited when it came to planning a future — the Netherlands was the only country in which we could have married our partners. Most of our extended family and friends were still unaware of the fact that we were gay — the idea of sending them a wedding invitation was unfathomable. Maybe in 2050 New York…Possibly progressive Germany… Ireland? Not a chance. Not in our lifetime.
Living in Chicago, I can’t cast a ballot on Friday, May 22nd. So, to all those in a position to have their say later this week, I ask you this: Allow me to call my ‘wife’ my wife when I move back home someday.
Allow the countless teenagers that are being plagued by that tap on their shoulder to brush it away, knowing that their fellow citizens — straight, bisexual, gay — have confirmed the equality of their hopes and feelings, the equality of their love; knowing that their happiness is happiness and their fear is unwarranted.
By casting a Yes vote, you will be tapping teenagers’ shoulders all over the world, letting them know that it’s ok, and it’s going to be ok. Allow our little island to be the first country to pass this law of equality by popular vote. Be on the right side of history. #BeMyYes
Thanks Kim Leonard
A series of murals by In The Company of Huskies creative agency for legendary Dublin gay bar The George.
Ice-cream tycoons and general do-gooders Ben & Jerry’s wade in on the upcoming marriage referendum.
Elaine Verdon writes:
“Ahead of the vote, we’ve created a YES video in the hope of inspiring fans to use their vote. Through a series of scenarios from college to work, to the stage, to sport and more we’re literally spelled out how many times people say YES everyday and how easy it is to just say YES in the referendum on May 22nd.”
*plunges flake into 99*
A quarter of a million Irish citizens have emigrated since 2008.
70% of them are in their 20s.
‘Irish Diaspora Voting‘ facilitates unofficial democratic representation for Ireland’s diaspora allowing Irish citizens abroad to engage symbolically in Irish politics and ‘serve as evidence for the urgent need of an adequate postal voting system’
Kerry Guinan writes:
Here’s a handy new tool to circulate to the Irish abroad ahead of the marriage referendum and in lieu of an adequate postal voting system for diaspora. Its results will be published to provide a more accurate representation of Irish voting preferences, and to express a need to Government for a postal voting system
A letter from FEARGUS all the way in Waikanae, New Zealand.
Sir, – I read Una Mullally’s piece “RTÉ referendum memo sends out the wrong message”, (Opinion & Analysis, April 6th) in disbelief. It is many years since I worked in RTÉ but the memo she reports is by my memory quite simply bog standard.
The only difference that separates this version from that issued in my own days there is the onward march of technology, to wit social media, so-called.
I thought the passage of time might have coloured my memory, but no.
I have checked with a friend, a former senior editorial executive, who has assured me that I remain compos mentisand “it’s a restatement of the usual”.
Ms Mullally is outraged. I see the memo differently.
First, it provides a protection to the RTÉ workforce.
Second, and by far the most important aspect of a long-standing policy, it offers – or is intended to offer – some assurance to the Irish public that the organisation and its broadcast services can be trusted to be what public representatives intended when, in 1960 and periodically since, they enacted and amended laws establishing and maintaining RTÉ as a national public service broadcaster. Specifically that voters can trust its coverage during a campaign.
The stopwatch and other aspects of RTÉ’s house policy on electoral and referendum coverage during the official contest period is not only “the usual”, it is necessary. This is not about the Angelus, “young researchers frightened about job security” or any other coats trailed in the piece.
It is about RTÉ and the law (the Broadcasting Acts) and integrity (RTÉ as a public service broadcaster) as they relate to the critical moment of the democratic exercise.
Voters deserve the assurance that neither a very powerful public body nor its staff are being anything other than scrupulously disinterested during the referendum campaign. I don’t know whatThe Irish Times policy is, though it appears to be different, but then it is not a public service. – Yours, etc,
FEARGUS Ó RAGHALLAIGH,