YOUNGSTERS BRIDGING GREAT DIVIDE WHILE STATESIDE
Youngsters bridging great divide while Stateside
By JENNIFER BROWN in Levittown, Pennsylvania
KEELIN Mullin was by the pool in suburban Philadelphia when news came that a car bomb had exploded 15 miles from her hometown of Strabane.
She phoned her mother. Then the 15-year-old Catholic clasped hands with Heidi Vaughan, a Protestant teenager also from Strabane, and cried.
"I'm so glad I was in America. I'm so glad Heidi was there,'' Keelin said four days later by telephone. She had just returned to an Ireland stricken by its worst terrorist bombing. Among the 28 dead was her 17-year-old cousin, as well as one of Heidi's classmates.
Before this summer, Keelin couldn't have imagined turning to a Protestant friend for comfort. Back home, she has attended an all-Catholic school for as long as she can remember. All her friends are Catholic.
But eight weeks on neutral American ground, in the company of other Northern Irish youngsters from both sides of the religious divide, served to broaden her horizons. In the Philadelphia suburb of Levittown, she discovered Catholics and Protestants have more in common than she imagined.
The programme that brought the 126 girls and boys to the United States is the Children's Friendship Project of Northern Ireland, a non-profit group based in Atlanta.
It pairs Catholic and Protestant teenagers, each from the same Northern community, and places them with US families for a summer to foster friendship and tolerance. Heidi and Keelin were roommates with Maggie Currey and her family.
"We thought maybe if we could do something, when they grow up things would change,'' said Mrs Currey.
"It's one pair at a time, who in turn influence others. It's a slow process, but there is change,'' said Beverly Cassel, regional co-ordinator for the project.
In the programme's early years, sectarian arguments between teenagers were common, even leading in rare cases to violence. Organisers have since excluded most inner-city youths as already too hardened to change. They also require participating pairs to meet before leaving Northern Ireland. If they don't get along, they are disqualified.
The programme probably doesn't reach the most critical youths, like those who could one day join the cycle of violence, Mrs Cassel admitted.
"We do not have someone who's been in trouble, who probably has so much hate in them they probably wouldn't be open to this kind of programme,'' Mrs Cassel said. "All of the children could really use something like this. All have witnessed some horrific things: their father being shot, their neighbour.
"These young people are the hope of the future,'' said former US Senator George Mitchell, who brokered the North peace agreement last Easter.
"They're raised in a segregated society and can really benefit from these programmes that bring people of different religions together,'' he said at a ceremony in Philadelphia attended by eight of the girls.
Of the 126 participants, 22 were from around Omagh.
"It just gets you and all your friends and family. There's nothing you can do,'' said Keelin, speaking from her home as her family was returning from her cousin's funeral.
Heidi, also reached by phone, said the bombing struck closer to home for her than any previous act of violence in the North. "The other stuff seemed farther away. This was so close,'' she said.
After the bombing, Keelin and Heidi stayed up all night talking, Mrs Currey recalled. "They were a strength for one another,'' she said. "They didn't lay any blame at all. All they cared about was how to get through it all''.
SIMILARITIES
The youngsters who spent there summer in the US say it was strange to watch events in Northern Ireland through the prism of American TV.
"You see it here and it seems so big. They only televise the big events,'' said Joanne McCracken. ``At home, it's like we see it every day. Every roadblock, every detail.''
Keelin and Heidi say they learned much about the other's religion especially the many similarities.
"Hopefully some good will come out of it. Already, Catholics and Protestants are coming together at chapels for funerals and that wouldn't have happened before,'' Keelin said.
CHIP BY CHIP
As a result of her close friendship with Heidi, Keelin is considering enrolling at Strabane's integrated school, one of the few in Northern Ireland that are attended by both Catholics and Protestants.
Until now, Keelin said, she would have been frightened to go near the school while wearing her school uniform, because its insignia would single her out as Catholic.
But Heidi convinced her she would be safe.
To Mrs Currey, forging such friendships is a way to break down suspicion and ignorance chip by tiny chip.
"This is how the argument would get continued to the next generation. 'Your neighborhood is dangerous,' or 'Your friends are paranoid.' But these girls are trying to change that,'' she said. "Then maybe their kids and their kids' kids will be different.''
By JENNIFER BROWN in Levittown, Pennsylvania
KEELIN Mullin was by the pool in suburban Philadelphia when news came that a car bomb had exploded 15 miles from her hometown of Strabane.
She phoned her mother. Then the 15-year-old Catholic clasped hands with Heidi Vaughan, a Protestant teenager also from Strabane, and cried.
"I'm so glad I was in America. I'm so glad Heidi was there,'' Keelin said four days later by telephone. She had just returned to an Ireland stricken by its worst terrorist bombing. Among the 28 dead was her 17-year-old cousin, as well as one of Heidi's classmates.
Before this summer, Keelin couldn't have imagined turning to a Protestant friend for comfort. Back home, she has attended an all-Catholic school for as long as she can remember. All her friends are Catholic.
But eight weeks on neutral American ground, in the company of other Northern Irish youngsters from both sides of the religious divide, served to broaden her horizons. In the Philadelphia suburb of Levittown, she discovered Catholics and Protestants have more in common than she imagined.
The programme that brought the 126 girls and boys to the United States is the Children's Friendship Project of Northern Ireland, a non-profit group based in Atlanta.
It pairs Catholic and Protestant teenagers, each from the same Northern community, and places them with US families for a summer to foster friendship and tolerance. Heidi and Keelin were roommates with Maggie Currey and her family.
"We thought maybe if we could do something, when they grow up things would change,'' said Mrs Currey.
"It's one pair at a time, who in turn influence others. It's a slow process, but there is change,'' said Beverly Cassel, regional co-ordinator for the project.
In the programme's early years, sectarian arguments between teenagers were common, even leading in rare cases to violence. Organisers have since excluded most inner-city youths as already too hardened to change. They also require participating pairs to meet before leaving Northern Ireland. If they don't get along, they are disqualified.
The programme probably doesn't reach the most critical youths, like those who could one day join the cycle of violence, Mrs Cassel admitted.
"We do not have someone who's been in trouble, who probably has so much hate in them they probably wouldn't be open to this kind of programme,'' Mrs Cassel said. "All of the children could really use something like this. All have witnessed some horrific things: their father being shot, their neighbour.
"These young people are the hope of the future,'' said former US Senator George Mitchell, who brokered the North peace agreement last Easter.
"They're raised in a segregated society and can really benefit from these programmes that bring people of different religions together,'' he said at a ceremony in Philadelphia attended by eight of the girls.
Of the 126 participants, 22 were from around Omagh.
"It just gets you and all your friends and family. There's nothing you can do,'' said Keelin, speaking from her home as her family was returning from her cousin's funeral.
Heidi, also reached by phone, said the bombing struck closer to home for her than any previous act of violence in the North. "The other stuff seemed farther away. This was so close,'' she said.
After the bombing, Keelin and Heidi stayed up all night talking, Mrs Currey recalled. "They were a strength for one another,'' she said. "They didn't lay any blame at all. All they cared about was how to get through it all''.
SIMILARITIES
The youngsters who spent there summer in the US say it was strange to watch events in Northern Ireland through the prism of American TV.
"You see it here and it seems so big. They only televise the big events,'' said Joanne McCracken. ``At home, it's like we see it every day. Every roadblock, every detail.''
Keelin and Heidi say they learned much about the other's religion especially the many similarities.
"Hopefully some good will come out of it. Already, Catholics and Protestants are coming together at chapels for funerals and that wouldn't have happened before,'' Keelin said.
CHIP BY CHIP
As a result of her close friendship with Heidi, Keelin is considering enrolling at Strabane's integrated school, one of the few in Northern Ireland that are attended by both Catholics and Protestants.
Until now, Keelin said, she would have been frightened to go near the school while wearing her school uniform, because its insignia would single her out as Catholic.
But Heidi convinced her she would be safe.
To Mrs Currey, forging such friendships is a way to break down suspicion and ignorance chip by tiny chip.
"This is how the argument would get continued to the next generation. 'Your neighborhood is dangerous,' or 'Your friends are paranoid.' But these girls are trying to change that,'' she said. "Then maybe their kids and their kids' kids will be different.''
Further Information
Publisher: IRISH INDEPENDENT
Ref: II/114
Published Date: 25-Aug-98
Related Images
There have been no images archived for this article.