Being True.

Here's a quick last blog post for 2013, and it's on a subject that I've been thinking of and talking about to others for a long, long time.

In the media, there has been a lot of coverage in recent times about the Haas talks in Belfast, the possibility of some sort of 'truth commission', and how to deal with justice and the past in Northern Ireland.

Last year as we set out on the path to finding and capturing people's stories of the troubles, we were often asked about how inclusive it would be. For example, if we film an ex-RUC officer, will we also film an ex-republican prisoner?

The simple answer is yes - if they want to tell their story. Border Lives will not exclude anyone who wishes to tell us their story. It would be irresponsible and deceiving if we did. However, we are thoughtful about how to approach this. If we are not thoughtful and if we don't take care of the process then that's when controversy and hurt will undoubtedly arise.

For us, this project has always been about individuals - People - fellow human beings. It's not about politics, it's not about religion, it's not about justice. That may sound silly because it certainly touches on all of these things but they are never the main focus. We focus on experiences and emotions.

For an example, we filmed a man whose father was murdered by the IRA when he was just 11. Our focus in the interview was not to drag him through the emotions of that exact time, not to talk about who did it, not even to make him reconcile with his past or the IRA. That is not our place. In actual fact, he did talk a lot about forgiveness but we only asked him to describe how the loss of his father shaped his life going forward. How did growing up without his dad contribute to the man he is today? And it was inspiring to hear about his youth work and faith which sees him acting as a positive male role model to the young men he works with.

We also filmed a man who talked about the army presence near his home and how he disliked it, how he would defy them as a young boy. The focus of this was to hear about how he felt as a young boy from a tiny island on Lough Erne. The feeling of being cut off, trapped, having English soldiers to answer to. In this instance, we are not passing judgement on either him as a young boy, or the soldiers who were there. It is only about his experience and how he felt. It lead to his interest in politics and ultimately to community development and youth work in that rural area.

I suppose for me as a researcher, I am conscious that I am not a counsellor and I am not a judge. I am a listener. I hope that everyone who views the final films will watch and listen to these people and their very individual experiences with the same openness.

We have always explained to our participants that we will be as open and inclusive as possible, whilst respecting the current participants and ensuring we care for their well-being throughout.

We are not deciding who was right, who was wrong, who was a victim, who was a perpetrator - and why. We are documenting these stories as each individual sees themselves and their life. We are being as true to each person as we possibly can, and surely this is a better place to begin?

It's Personal

One thing has come up a lot over the last few weeks in conversations with community groups and individuals. With so many parades, commemorations, sensitivities and contentious issues being reported in the media, we've been talking about the differences between rural and urban.

Throughout the research it is clear how differently people in the border areas feel, think and respond compared with more urban areas (i.e. Belfast).

The experience of those living along the border was vastly different to those in the cities of Belfast and even Derry-Londonderry.

What was it that was so different though?

In the space of a week, I was told by three different people that "along the border, in the rural areas, it was personal." And by personal they meant intensely, deeply personal.

In the cities and larger towns for example, whole streets and estates may have come together against another or attacks were made on people with whom they had no relationship with. In a way it was somewhat anonymous.

In the border areas, people knew each other well. Generations of the same families lived in the same townland for maybe a hundred years, maybe longer. So when the conflict heightened, it felt very much like neighbours attacking neighbours. Local people knew who was involved in what activity, they often didn't know who to trust and suspicion became fierce from all sides.

That's not to say that some communities, friends and neighbours didn't strengthen and come together because they did. However, largely, it created a deep division. One that we are still seeing in places like Castlederg or South East Fermanagh.

It's this 'personal' nature that our project hopes to be able to touch on in the films- the positive and negative.

We have heard stories of small communities coming together e.g. in Belleek where Catholic neighbours and families helped mend the Church of Ireland hall after it was attacked, even inviting the church members into their homes for tea and sandwiches.

We have also heard stories of suspicion between RUC and UDR officers and their neighbours, not knowing if their neighbour was surveilling their movements as they made their way home to their farm after a shift.

And there are so many more stories in between these two poles. It has been incredibly interesting hearing this issue begin to come to the fore in our research.

I would like to stress that this doesn't speak of 100% of people but of the many, many that I have spoken to. We really hope to be able to document and demonstrate the difference in experience between the border and the urban areas in ways like this.


*Thanks to Joe O'Loughlin for the photos.