Op-Ed

Hi everyone! Katherine here. I’ve been asked to write a “guest entry” for Éire Apparent.

My “accent” is quite a topic of discussion in the golf store where I work. Most of the time customers wait until they are paying for their items at the till: “Where are you from?” they ask curiously. I used to respond, “From the United States” but most of the time the reaction was, “Well, I guessed that! Where in the U.S. are you from?”

Where it all happens.

In my defense, I thought I could have been mistaken as a Canadian, as I once was in London. I stopped at the Ritz to ask for directions three years ago, at the end of my study abroad experience. “Are you from Canada?” the Ritz Carlton doorman asked me. “No, I’m actually from northern New Jersey." ("Right outside of New York City,” I hastily added as I saw a confused look coming over his face.) “Oh righttt!," he recovered, "I figured you must have been a Canadian, because, well, you don’t have a Boston accent or a New York accent.” I didn’t mention to this poor chap that I also don’t have a Southern accent, a Midwestern accent, or any of the numerous other accents can be heard in United States.

Since most of the Irish seem to guess that I’m from the United States, I’ve modified the way I respond: “I’m originally from northern New Jersey, about twenty miles outside of New York City.”

In the two months or so that I’ve been working at the golf shop, I have gotten several amusing reactions to this. Most of the people make a friendly, though vain, effort to relate to my nationality.

“Oh! I have family in San Francisco,” one woman told me just a few weeks ago. “I get out there at least twice a year.” Luckily I have been to San Francisco and could respond, “Yes, San Francisco is beautiful.” “It is,” she responded with vigor, “I love it there.”

This past week, all of the customers I had seemed to have family in Chicago. “New Jersey, huh? My brother-in-law / sister / son / best friend’s cousin live in Chicago!,” to which I smile politely. I’ve never been to Chicago, but I’ve been in the airport.

Never mind the fact that these places are hundreds or thousands of miles from my hometown, and many are completely different from the area I grew up in. European’s have a much different sense of a country's size. The Irish, for example, can drive from the island's northern tip its southern extent in about eight hours. That’s it. (That time would be a lot shorter if they had Interstate-style highways running the length of the country).

Many of the customers make an effort to relate to the fact that I’m from New Jersey. One woman recently told me she had family in the Garden State. “Oh, where about?” I asked. “Hmmm,” she responded, “Shirley Hill?” “Do you mean Cherry Hill?” I ask. “Yes! That’s it! Cherry Hill!” she says with a smile. “That’s about two hours from where I grew up. I passed it every time I drove to college, though.” I said. “Oh goodness, two hours! Why, New Jersey is huge! It must be roughly the size of Munster!” (Munster is one of the four provinces of Ireland. The other three are Leinster, Connaught, and Ulster).

One customer confidently told me that she used to have a son who lived there, and whom she had visited every year for many years. “Do you know the name of the town?” I ask. “Oh, no, I couldn’t tell you. Somewhere near the Hudson River.”

Another time a customer said she knew northern New Jersey well. Her sister lives there, as a matter of fact. And what town did her sister live in? “Something that ends with –field.” So I named a few of them off the top of my head: Springfield, Bergenfield, Westfield, Bloomfield, Plainfield? None of them rang a bell.

As for my personal favorite, the caretaker of the “Winthrop Arcade” shops where I work stopped me one night as I was closing up for the evening. “Where are you from, love?” he said in a thick Cork accent. He laughed when I told him I was from outside of New York City. “New York? I’ve never been.” “You’ll have to try to get there someday,” I replied. “Oh no, I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m rather used to the tallest building in Cork City being about six stories high,” he said as he walked away with a chuckle.