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Parenting My daughter going to the Gaeltacht was a real lesson in letting go as a parent

Margaret Lynch found it difficult to let her daughter go to the Gaeltacht, but she sees the positive effects it has had on her.

WHEN HER FIRST sentence was ‘do all by self’ I knew I was in for a wild ride with my feisty little toddler. She would swipe my hands away from whatever I was trying to help her with. “Do all by self”.

Too small for the big sentence, her little mouth struggled to form the words, but she was determined to be heard and understood and to tie her shoes herself. All by herself.

And she has remained fiercely independent for her entire 14 years.

In January, she asked if she could go to The Gaeltacht. And honestly, we weren’t sure about it. I couldn’t imagine her out there, immersed in nature and without technology. Was her Irish strong enough? Would she be able to survive outdoor sports and eat whatever food was dished up for her? I had visions of me having to drive out to Galway in her first week, a thousand Euro lighter.

I assumed it would just be a fleeting idea that would come and go. I couldn’t imagine her surviving for two weeks without me, or her family, or home comforts.

And yet, the idea stayed. She looked online and found a course she liked, recommended by her older cousin, who she idolises. I think this helped to make it feel more comfortable, even before she left. She found a friend in her school who was also going, and the idea started to grow roots.

‘I’ll come collect you’

I’m not sure if any of the other parents did the whole ‘if you don’t like it, I’ll just come and collect you’ bit but that could never be me. We explained over and over again that once it was booked, there was absolutely no going back. We told her how much it was costing, and that if she wanted to go, she had to commit to sticking it out!

Still, I was nervous in the entire lead up to it that she would panic and back out. But the nerves didn’t really set in (for either of us) until the morning she was due to go, when it suddenly felt all too real. She was going, and now I was worried about how I would cope without her!

I left the packing entirely to her (do all by self), and then had a meltdown 20 minutes before we had to leave when we realised she needed the body weight of an adult male to sit on it to close it, and that she couldn’t even manage to drag it two feet.

I tried to explain that she would be sharing a room, and that it wasn’t fair to bring so much stuff, but she wouldn’t listen and insisted that she did need four different types of body lotion and three eyelash curlers. We ended up having a fight that sat on my conscience for the next two weeks.

Letting go

As we drove to the collection point in Kinnegad I desperately tried to impart all my knowledge, to prepare her for every possible situation that she might face without me.

She Googled the Irish for ‘literally’ and ‘traumatised’ – her two favourite words.
Then she went uncharacteristically quiet. I thought it was over the three bottles of body lotion now sitting on our landing, but when I asked her if she was ok, she wailed ‘I just realised I won’t be able to sing for two weeks!’

The nerves were in full force as we stood around the car park, waiting for the bus. She stood with her (giant and overfilled) suitcase, nervously scanning all the other teens doing the same. I was trying to contain my emotions, so I didn’t put the fear of God into her at the last minute. And then it was time for her to go.

backtoschoolbackofcollegestudentwithbackpackwhile Shutterstock / mangpor2004 Shutterstock / mangpor2004 / mangpor2004

The build up to this moment had been huge. And then suddenly, it was so quiet. The drive home was silent. Our house was silent.

And it stayed silent for the next two weeks! The younger one and I can sit on the couch, reading or watching TV, and not saying a word for hours.

She was allowed her phone between 9.30 pm and 10.30 pm each night. The second night, she called and was mid-way through telling me about the céilí when she suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream that frightened the life out of me. She had wandered out to the front garden while chatting, and next door’s cow had licked her sleeve. I mean, where else would you get that kind of immersion in nature!

I spent my time scrolling through the Instagram page of the college, seeing photos of her kayaking, swimming in the sea and pier jumping. She did all kinds of sports and hikes, went to a fun fair and even had a céilí on the beach.

Freedom

Not only did she not have access to any kind of technology, she also had to cope without takeaways or fast food, and she had to scrap the whole 85-step skin-care routine. On a normal school morning at home, she is up around 6.30 am (singing) and spends a good hour getting ready. But when she was away, the Bean an Tí woke them at 8 am, breakfast was 8.15, and they had to leave by 8.45 am.

Without any phones or iPads, they couldn’t set alarms to wake up earlier. There was no time for extended skincare routines, and the break from heavy products coupled with the fresh sea air did her wonders.

She rang every night of the first week, for the full hour, telling me every last detail of her day. But by the second week, I would only get a couple of texts, a clear sign she had settled in.

We couldn’t wait for her to come home. The excitement leading up to it was like nothing else. I counted down the days. And when we collected her, I couldn’t believe how cheerful and self-assured she was. She had a new air about her, you could feel the confidence and sense of accomplishment from her. And she was full of stories about the adventures she had, the new foods she had tried, and the friends that she had made.

I was worried that 14 girls in the one house would lead to a kind of ‘Lord of the Flies’ situation as they were left to their own devices, but they learned how to resolve conflicts themselves without any parental involvement. They had to learn how to meet their own needs, without imposing on others, and they really ended up fostering a strong sense of community and belonging. She has made friends for life.

She said that from the time they arrived down and for the duration of the two weeks there had been a lot of talk of them sneaking out on the last night. They were all geared up for it until one of the girls pointed out at dinner that even if they made it outside, there was actually nothing to do. And so instead, they just had an early night. I mean, you can’t teach that kind of good judgement!

So, although it was heartbreaking and scary to say goodbye to her for two weeks, it was so very worth it. It really highlighted for us how important it is to give kids the space they need to grow. Two weeks of figuring it out herself has been far more beneficial for her development than any of the advice I gave her beforehand. Just like when she would swipe my hands away from her shoelaces, she is much better off when she learns how to do it herself!

Margaret is a busy mum of two, living and working in Kildare. 

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