 The Great Irish Famine. In 1801, the population of Ireland was about 5 million. By 1841, it had risen to more than 8 million. There were few industries, so the country depended largely on agriculture. As the population grew, farms decreased in size. Most of the people lived as tenants on small farms. They had to give much of what they produced to their landlords as rent. Most of the tenant farmers struggled to survive on what was left from their production.  Because of their poverty, many of the Irish people depended largely on potatoes for food. Some raised animals and grew grain to pay their rents. In 1845, 1846, and 1848, blight (disease) affected the potato crop throughout the country. The potatoes rotted, and millions of people faced starvation.  The British prime minister, Sir Robert Peel, introduced relief plans in the poorest areas. These plans were meant to help people earn enough money to buy grain that the government imported from the United States. But these measures were inadequate, and the next government, under Lord John Russell, had to distribute food free of charge. These relief measures were also inadequate. Hundreds of thousands of people died.  As a result of the Great Famine, the population of the country dropped from 8 1 /4 million to 6 1 /2 million. Historians believe that a million people died of hunger and disease. Millions emigrated, most of them to the United States and Canada. They left Ireland with bitterness in their hearts, believing that the United Kingdom was the cause of all their suffering.

 The Irish were in the worst condition upon arrival at Grosse Isle. "An eye-witness called it the Isle of Death, and found a strange contrast of beauty and suffering, of levity and sorrow", wrote Guillet, in his book The Great Migration.

Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging. The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft Against the inside knee was levered firmly. He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep To scatter new potatoes that we picked, Loving their cool hardness in our hands. By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man. My grandfather cut more turf in a day Than any other man on Toner’s bog. Once I carried him milk in a bottle Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up To drink it, then fell to right away Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods Over his shoulder, going down and down For the good turf. Digging. The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge Through living roots awaken in my head. But I’ve no spade to follow men like them. Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests. I’ll dig with it.

OK, I want to talk about Ireland Specifically I want to talk about the "famine" About the fact that there never really was one There was no "famine" See Irish people were only ALLOWED to eat potatoes All of the other food Meat fish vegetables Were shipped out of the country under armed guard To England while the Irish people starved And then on the middle of all this They gave us money not to teach our children Irish And so we lost our history And this is what I think is still hurting me See we're like a child that's been battered Has to drive itself out of it's head because it's frightened Still feels all the painful feelings But they lose contact with the memory And this leads to massive self- destruction ALCOHOLISM DRUG ADICTION All desperate attempts at running And in it's worst form Becomes actual killing And if there ever is gonna be healing There has to be remembering And then grieving So that there then can be forgiving There has to be knowledge and understanding An American army regulation Says you mustn't kill more than 10% of a nation 'Cos to do so causes permanent "psychological damage“ It's not permanent but they didn't know that Anyway during the supposed "famine" We lost a lot more than 10% of a nation Through deaths on land or on ships of emigration But what finally broke us was not starvation BUT IT'S USE IN THE CONTROLLING OF OUR EDUCATION School go on about "Black 47" On and on about "The terrible "famine"" But what they don't say is in truth There really never was one So let's take a look shall we The highest statistics of child abuse in the EEC And we say we're a Christian country But we've lost contact with our history See we used to worship God as a mother We're sufferin from POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER Look at all our old men in the pubs Look at all our young people on drugs We used to worship God as a mother Now look at what we're doing to each other We've even made killers of ourselves The most child-like trusting people in the Universe And this is what's wrong with us Our history books THE PARENT FIGURES lied to us I see the Irish As a race like a child That got itself bashed in the face And if there ever is gonna be healing There has to be remembering And then grieving So that there then can be FORGIVING There has to be KNOWLEDGE and UNDERSTANDING

 Checa, Thierry G. The Famine Statues, Dublin Photograph. Dublin, Ireland. Flickr. Yahoo! Inc. Web. 31 Oct  Heaney, Seamus. "Digging." By Seamus Heaney : The Poetry Foundation. Poetry Foundation, Web. 31 Oct  O'Connor, Sinead. Famine. Sinead O'Connor. Sinead O'Connor, John Reynolds, Tim Simenon, and Phil Coulter, CD