Being called racist, unwelcoming, sad, horrible and "epitomising everything wrong with these islands" earlier this week really ground my gears. Actually, as Gaels, we are a long oppressed minority, who have a right to some cultural respect. [thread]
Disclaimer: I include myself under the umbrella of "Gael" under advisement, having been born and brought in Edinburgh. However, Gàidhlig is my first language, and crofting, the sea and islands run in my blood courtesy of my Tirisdeach father. I am hefted to that culture.
Our ancestors had their houses burnt down - often whilst they were in them - because their landlords decided sheep were a better financial bet.
They were put into boats and shipped across the world. Many died, my own relatives amongst them.
The language and culture of the islands was deeply affected by the mass exodus - especially of families and working age men.
Although many of us have reclaimed "teuchtar" it remains synonymous in many minds with ignorance, stupidity and backwardness - and those assumptions about Gaels persist into 2019. We are the butt of many a joke.
My great great grandfather was part of the land struggle which resulted in the system of crofting tenure we know today - finally giving those who remained in the Gaidhealtachd some security. They literally fought for it in some places.
Most of our land is still controlled by Dukes and Lords and their estates. We still doff our caps and pay rent. They appear on an ad hoc basis and gaze on their kingdoms, making sure the serfs are kept in check, so excuse us for being a little snarky from time to time.
Our parents and grandparents had Gàidhlig physically beaten out of them at school. In the course of those two generations, people learnt that their indigenous language "wouldn't get them anywhere". They stopped passing it on. English was key to "better yourself".
And so many of my generation lost the chance to speak their language. I was lucky. Not that I thought that at the time as I was kicked around playgrounds on account of being "garlic".
And as Gàidhlig gained ground in schools, it lost ground in its communities and heartland, because they had endured years of struggle to clutch onto their culture and had got disheartened.
Sadly, as many minorities do, we are now eating ourselves. First language Gàidhlig speakers are alienated by the "new fangled" as the language naturally evolves, and learners are frustrated by our refusal to hope, and our perceived lack of interest.
There is a sense of exhaustion around language initiatives, and disappointment at repeated abortive attempt to "save" it. Projects with the best intentions more often divide than conquer.
And we watch as houses young Gaidhealach people could buy and move back to become business propositions for people who stay there precisely two weeks a year. Jobs are scarce, but private planes and CCTV cameras are plentiful.
More than a third of houses near me are solely holiday homes. And we are conflicted, because we need tourism, but we see the effect on our kids futures. We let out our own houses and sell land to live - because years of under investment have left the job landscape bare.
Paradox is alive and well and we are not unaware of it. In the words of a tourist to an island friend of mine "you're actually quite bright." We don't hate tourists, we need them, we welcome them, we just battle a sense of loss as our communities change.
We died of famine. We lost a disproportionate number of young men in the war. We also travelled the world as mariners, transplanted into new cultures and thrived, and developed a broad understanding of the wider world. We're not racist, we're not unwelcoming. We're tired.
