New Irish Communities

Meet the Community

The photos shows facilitator Jean O’Brien and some of our New Irish Communities members took part in our Showcase on 28 June 2025.

The featured readers included Anthony Kelly, Lola Le Guan, Valentina Tosi, Pat Béna-Hanly, Luciana Lynch, Ángeles Mañueco, Fabiana Reis, Sandy Seeber-Quayle, Xanda Monteiro, Yinka Parm, Edgard Wentz, Marc Gijsemans, and Luisa Di Somma.

Every month, the Irish Writers Centre will highlight the work of the New Irish Communities members.  You can read contributor Anthony Kelly’s piece below!

Read the Work of the New Irish Communities

On Sandycove Beach by Lola Le Guan

Wendy’s pockets clattered with secret shells she refused to show me. She marched several metres ahead of me, and I let the distance stretch, with no intention of catching up.

“Can I play down there?” she had asked earlier, eyeing the stone path along the rocks and longing for adventure.

“Sure, just watch your step,” I told her as I settled onto a bench to enjoy the sea view.

Nearby, a woman laughed into her phone, “Ah, I’m sorry. It’s supposed to be five o’clock. My bad.”

If I were the person receiving her message, I’d forgive her. Her ease with a mistake was like a breeze.

“Mammy, look at me!” Wendy’s triumphant voice came from somewhere below, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m here!” she called again, louder this time.

I looked further, and she stood, arm stretched, on a seaweed-covered rock right by the water. Slip. Fall. Drown. I time-travelled to the worst future possible.

“Wendy! Get off! You’ll fall.” I shouted, hurrying down the steps.

“No. I won’t. I am a pirate,” she protested. “Get off. Now! This is not a playground.” I arrived at the edge of the path, as close as I could to catch her as she climbed back on all fours.

“You didn’t even look,” her voice trembled, her face covered by a veil of hurt. She refused to take my hand, blinking away tears she didn’t want me to see. An air of disappointment hung between us. This would hit me harder later, but in that moment, I told myself I had done the right thing. That’s what mothers do. She should get over it.

She did not.

Even after we began talking again, whenever our eyes met, her stare reminded me that we had unresolved business.

That night, I closed my eyes and saw myself at her age, showing my mother a picture I had just finished, only to watch her eyes drift as she interrupted with irrelevant details and changed the subject mid-sentence. The need to be listened to burned inside me with fury and resentment, and faded into a sense of betrayal.

Would Wendy stop sharing her life with me? I went to her room and got into bed with her. She was as awake as I was.

“Was it that I asked you to get off the rock, or was it the way I said it?” I asked quietly. My eyes caught sight of a few shells scattered on the windowsill.

“Both,” she muttered. Words formed in my mouth before I knew it. “I’m sorry. You were at a dangerous spot, and I panicked. But I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

I wrapped my arm across her chest, her tears soaking into my gown.

“And I should have watched your pirate act.” Just like that, these were the words the little girl inside of me longed to hear.

She leaned into me and whispered, “Can we get ice cream tomorrow?”

The next day, we sat at the beach licking ice cream and admiring the shells Wendy had collected. She showed me a few of her favourites, the tiniest, the most colourful, and a pink spiral. We laid these treasures out, and it looked like a map of how we found our way back to each other.

A Word from our Facilitators

Mark Granier

“The New Irish Communities (NIC) scheme, funded by Dublin City Council, was launched in October 2013. A year later, I was invited to take over, and it has been a privilege to contribute to such a vibrant and growing initiative. The original goal was to offer a series of creative writing workshops for non-native English speakers, a mission that continues to be at the heart of the programme. A few years later, the poet and tutor Jean O’Brien came on board, and it has been a delight to collaborate with her in its development. However, it is the enthusiasm and dedication of the participants that has truly exceeded expectations. It has been deeply gratifying to have a hand in establishing NIC, and long may it flourish.” Mark Granier

Jean O’Brien

“The New Irish Communities (NIC) scheme was in full flow when poet and tutor Mark Granier asked me to join, a number of years after he had taken the reins. Over the  years it has grown and blossomed, with a core group staying with us developing and flourishing, some have had their work taken up by main stream Irish publishers, others have broadcast on RTE National Radio and local stations. Many participants keep in touch for years, others dip in and out; some have even formed sub-groups and stay in touch as friends as well as fellow writers. Jean O’Brien

Rafael Mendes

Rafael began as a member of the New Irish Communities and has been a NIC facilitator for the past two years.

“The story of how and when I first attended the New Irish Communities (NIC) has been fictionalised as memory fails me. In 2018, or possibly 2019, following an ambitious goal of writing in a second language, in which I had rudimentary proficiency, I attended a session led by Mark Granier, perhaps Jean O’Brien. During those Saturday mornings at the Irish Writers Centre, encouraged by that community and by the talent and generosity of those poet-mentors, I decided to be a writer, to improve my craft, to have some time in my day to be in writing mode, not to be satisfied with a first draft, not to give up with rejections, and to foster more communities. By inviting a former NIC member to lead a session, the Irish Writers Centre afforded me a chance to retribute to the community, to Jean, and Mark. For anyone whose English is not the first language, come along one day: I’m sure you’ll have a nice time. Rafael Mendes