I found myself talking to a friend recently about a short film I’d found of an Irish musician Pete Doran. It was filmed by a videographer I admire called Myles O’Reilly. Myles’ films are short, edgy stories usually featuring a folk musician or band either from, or performing in, his beloved Ireland. They’re really good.
We got to talking about the diversity of pride; Irish Pride is evident in so many of the faces of the folks in O’Reilly’s films. But each region expresses its own kind of pride in its people; Welsh, Scottish, English, African pride. Aussie pride. Inuit pride. They’re all as different as the places themselves, the faces, the accents, the architecture, the food, the beer…
Pride rises in the face like a glow; half in smile, stern-jawed, eyes wide,we stare towards a distant horizon as it permeates us. It’s what we feel at all the most important moments in our lives and it’s what we feel when we connect as couples, teams, nations and races. Pride can help lift us from despair and can help defend us from attack. And for all its diverse forms it does these things for us all, irrespective of colour, creed or nation, all the time.
Pride knows no barriers and is a defining characteristic for a people but it is also a delicate thing. Too much and it becomes arrogance. Too little and it ceases to be. What a wonderful thing.