Ita Reddington is a Primary School Teacher, Writer and Producer based in Galway. She wrote over 35 plays that were performed at Theatre Room Galway from 2015-2017.
Many of her plays were nominated and won awards as well as one being published in a literary journal. Ita won the Outstanding Contribution award for her passion and commitment to the arts. In 2017, Ita studied a Masters in Drama and Theatre at the University of Galway where she specialised in playwrighting. Ita has previously co-produced Crime and Punishment (2017), The Little Prince (2018), Immortal (2021) and she is currently working on For the Lack of Laura (2024) with Morgan Brothers. She was inspired to start writing poetry last summer after spending time in the Gaeltacht in Inis Meaín. While there, she wrote her first poem Ag Suíl abhaile and since then she has written over 60 poems.
Walking Home/ Ag siúl abhaile
Had I not walked mindfully, I would have missed it.
The walk from Coláiste Naomh Éoin to Radharc na Bóirne,
On a lovely sun drenched, July afternoon, in Inis Meáin.
I saw a fíor Oileánach, Leaving the séipéil Eoin agus Naomh Muire gan Smál, dressed in a long black skirt, geansaí, a crochet shawl ildaite and a paisley scarf ar a cloigeann.
As I navigated ag dul ar chlé agus ar dheis down róidín agus boreens,
I saw walls of stones like a maize, hand woven yet loosely fitted so intricate, through centuries of passing time.
Passed old thatched cottages ar aghaidh ó ghlúin go glúin, with small gardens growing macan dearg agus bán.
I saw a fisherman returning after laethanta crua oibre, with a weathered face and alán gruaige air, laying his nets on the upturned currachs to dry.
Past slabs of limestone fields, where vivid purple flowers grow in the crevice. Past the friendly dogs and cats, and braying asal drinking rainwater from the trough.
Sheep and cattle with long horns walking through the gaps in the limestone walls and finding shelter when it rains.
The uphill climb,passed Siopa Ruaidhrí Beag to Teach Ósta for greim le hIthe,
Waiting for the seisiún mór ceoil – An Cailín Álainn, Peigín Letir Móir, Peigín is Peadar and Amhrán Ros Muc.
Talking to the warm hearted islanders who lives by the proverb ‘ní neart go cur le chéile’ being gifted with a ciseog for mo frátaí and chúile geallúintí pósta.
A short walk home to mo lóistín with a door left open giving me a Céad Míle Fáilte. As I thit mé in a chodladh, bhí brionglóid agam, bhí mé ag smaoineamh le aimn nua as poitín – Uisce Misneach. Ní dhéanfaidh mé dearmad go deo ar mo chuid ama anseo Inis Meáin.
Living like an islander, embracing our native culture, heritage and teanga.
As I boarded the Aer Arran flight, I smiled knowing that I ignited a spark and our journey together was not over but only just begun. Beidh mé ar dul ais cinnte.
Gaeilge
I feel complete,
In tune with my roots,
When I speak Gaeilge.
It is part of my identity,
I feel I am in touch with my ancestors.
For centuries, many people tried to eradicate Gaeilge: Henry VIII in 1536, Cromwell in 1649, Penal Laws in 1695, The Leal system in 1801, the Great Hunger in 1845,
The Irish language was associated with shame and poverty,
The English language was associated with power and prosperity.
But the Irish language is a story of hardship and resilience,
A language that has been preserved through centuries of adversity.
While English is seen as the language of our oppressor,
Irish language is seen as a hunger for independence and evokes a spirit of rebellion.
It has left its imprint on the English Hiberno language, “I am after eating”, “he does be walking”.
So why do so many natives have a negative attitude towards Gaeilge?
Why is it seen as a subject in school and not a living language?
Why, after 13 years of school, can people not speak it?
Why can’t I be greeted at Immigration at Dublin airport in Gaeilge?
Why can’t I go to the shop and buy my food in Gaeilge?
It can’t be another lost language with an unbroken connection to our ancestors.
If you do not speak it, you will be a foreigner in your own land.
Kathmandu
A city in the roof of the world,
A Valley situated in the towering Himalayas and Majestic Everest,
A Medieval city, situated between Tibet and India,
A place where traders, travellers and pilgrims meet,
One of the poorest and least developed countries in the world,
A country that was closed to the outside world until the 1950’s,
A country that was ruled by many kingdoms until it unified into one dynasty who ruled until a Republic was declared in 2008,
A country that attracts mountaineers, hippies and pilgrims on a Hindu and Buddhist path,
A spiritual Mecca for Tibetan Buddhist and Indian Hindus.
A sacred place,
It feels like a slice of heaven on earth,
Thamel, the tourist area is a mecca for gortex glad mountaineers and hippies who are on a spiritual journey,
The medieval side streets and alleyways are packed with shops and stalls,
Selling souvenirs such as Himalayan salt, saris, mala beads, Hindu statues, handmade paper, masala tea, Tibetan singing bowls and hemp bags,
Cars, scooters, rickshaws, bikes, buses, trucks cause traffic jams and
Cover everyplace and person with black smoke like a blanket from a petrol station,
No traffic lights, police guide traffic with hand signals and whistles
Decades of electrical wires are entangled around poles,
Cars with no seat belts and carpets on seats zoom in and out of streets that are smaller than footpaths,
Hinduism and Buddhism are interconnected,
It is tangible and visible in the architecture, temple carvings, Hindu gods and Buddha Bodhisattvas and festivals,
Culture and religion thrive side by side for centuries,
It is a testament of the warm and hospitable nature of the Nepalese.
The Galway Review 