Humans of The Liberties

“I am where I am today because of the safety net that I was able to enjoy from the community where I grew up. I have to mention my aunt first. My aunt is my hero! She is amazing in every way; she raised me after both of my parents died from drugs and alcohol when I was very young. I was lucky to get a second chance and be raised by someone I could look up to. She had two of her own kids and took me and my three sisters, all from different fathers, on with no partner. She raised the six of us all by herself. Not one of us went down the wrong path; no one is on drugs, no one drinks; that's because she always protected us and set us straight. She instilled values in us, and to be honest with you, she was quite strict. We were always scared of her, in a good way. We respected her so much and never wanted to let her down. I have been working in this shop since I was 14. I used to struggle with severe anxiety growing up, but getting the opportunity to work here helped me tremendously to cope. I was slowly exposed to people, most of whom I already knew; it gently took me out of my comfort zone by having to speak to people. It helped me manage small talk, and I truly feel I would not be the person I am today without working here. People come here every day to have chats; anything that happens in the area, we are the first to know about it. Noel’s Deli is not just a corner shop. It is the connection hub for the community where you also get to pick up your milk and your bread.”

“Years ago, when the business was booming, this area was still rough, but I had respect from the community, so I never really had problems. But that night, a gang came in wanting to rob the cash register. These were not local kids; they had no clue about this place. They thought they would have easy money from a takeaway. Six big fellas asking for the money. They hadn’t a clue about the kickboxing studio upstairs... They didn't know about my eight black belts. They didn't know about my involvement in sending local kids to national and international championships. They didn't even bother looking at the pictures on the wall. Six lads asking me to empty the cash register. I ended up fighting them for one hour and 20 minutes. We were all covered in blood, and I asked if this was enough. Someone must have seen the fighting from the outside, and called the police. I never rang the police in my life; if I had a problem, I took care of it. By the time the police arrived, they were all surprised because I ended up sending all of them to St. James Hospital. Before they were taken, I said to them, "You came to the wrong address. This street is controlled by me! I will never let anyone walk over me. I don't let anybody mess with this shop or with this street." I'll tell you what! On the 60th anniversary of this shop, Kevin’s Street Garda Station sent out a group of Gardaí, and they gave me an actual Garda badge for my involvement in the community and for taking care of this street. I knew about the respect of the locals for me, but I would have never thought one day I would get a Garda medal for it. I told them that medal will live in my heart and will remain there forever!”

“I come to Larry and his daughter for years to buy me wool here. I do a lot of knitting. I knit and donate all the rags and beanie hats for the premature babies in The Coombe Hospital. That is my occupational therapy! I am 92 years of age and I am still doing all the chores at home. It’s important to keep moving! Reading and talking to people; that’s what keeps the mind fresh! I never look at the telly and I never seen a soap in my life! I blame the soaps for people getting the Alzheimer’s, you know? You can’t even ring them up to have a chat! They’d say; ‘Oh, the soap is on, I have to go now!’ Who wants to spend their lives looking at other people with their bloody problems while beating the head off of one another. I buy the newspaper; I do my knitting and I talk to people. Have a conversation! - and don’t even get me started on those stupid phones… They make my blood boil! I’ve got four children, 12 grandchildren and three great grandchildren and none of them are allowed to look at their phones while they are over. People complain about what they want from life, they want this and they want that… But they are missing the point. You don’t need much to be happy! I am 92 and I am as happy as ever, I have a warm bed, roof over my head, I have plenty of food in my belly, I come up here to buy me newspaper, me slippers and me wool when I need them, what else do I need? A good sense of humour and a drop of whiskey goes down nicely too!”

“Treat people the way you want to be treated. This idea has been with me for a very long time, but there was a moment in my life that cemented it in me. I studied philosophy for years. We had a really wise man as our tutor. He would draw out a bit of text every night, and we would discuss it as a group. The story for discussion that night was about a child asking his father,"Daddy, what does 'you' mean?" The father then asks, "What do you mean?" "Well," says the child,"if I am 'I' and you are 'you,' then…" The father, attempting to clarify, says,"No, you are 'you' and I am 'I'." Then the child pauses for a moment and says,"That means you are the same as me?" The proposition of the story is not to see people as others but as yourself; in other words, when I look at you, I see me. This story really stayed with me, and I was already drawing a lot of parallels to my life, but then the next morning, I was opening shop. It must have been around 6 am, still dark outside, and I was just pondering this while turning on the tea machine, and a homeless man came in the door. "Can I please have a cup of tea?” he asked. I looked into his eyes and that had the most profound effect on me… This is all he wanted; he just wanted a cup of tea. He didn't want the sandwiches, and off he went. That wise man the night before, I think, was setting me up for this experience; this event suddenly transformed my perception of reality. I didn't only see myself standing in front of me but I saw God that morning… Treat people the way you want to be treated! - and this world would be a better place! That is my motto - it seems to be working because I wouldn’t change a thing about my life. I've lived a truly happy life here. Success is relationships; and I have plenty. I have been part of this community ever since I first opened the door of this shop 60 years ago, and I will be until I die. I love the people, and they love me. I know that, and they know that too. To me, this is success. I had nothing and I had plenty, but in all those times, what made me come back into this shop was the people."

“I believe parents often overcompensate based on their own childhood experiences. My daughter's upbringing was indeed more connected, cozy, and safe compared to mine. My own family situation lacked stability, and I was somewhat of a wild child, ending up running away from home at 15. I was always fascinated by tattoo shops and the art of tattooing ever since I was a teenager. The artist studios provided me with access to like-minded people and beautiful art. Creating art and being around art was one thing, but having my daughter was my greatest inspiration; I wanted to be a good role model for her. I went back to college and brought her along everywhere, truly everywhere, since she was a baby. As a young, single parent, the importance of friends and community becomes ever more important, and raising her in the Liberties was the best place. Living here means being part of a community where people know and care for each other. The place I run is more than a tattoo shop; it's an exhibition space, an artist studio, and a social club. Even when we're closed, people drop by for chats or just to say hi. My daughter and I share a close bond, partly because we practically grew up together. I took her to exhibition openings, live painting sessions and festivals. She's been a part of the art scene as long as she can remember. As a result, she's grown to be confident, responsible, creative, and intelligent. She's expressed no desire to become an artist though, aspiring instead to be a surgeon. And if that's her way of overcompensating, I'm all for it!”

“I have been coming here ever since I was an infant. My grandparents lived in Pimlico, and we would come down every Saturday with my nanny. I was dressed from this market! My dresses, my shoes, everything was bought here by my nanny. Nowadays, I come only when I'm low on wool. There are three things I love in life: tattoos, knitting, and horror movies—the gorier, the better. Most of my tattoos are horror-related too. My husband always says that I am a psycho when he sees me watching people getting chopped up on TV while knitting baby blankets. I did a criminology course as well; I just love true crime! I started knitting a year and a half ago as a form of refuge in my struggle to stop smoking. This new passion became a small business. I sell baby baskets with handcrafted blankets with baby essentials, which I sell online. I only retired last week; I took early retirement to be a full-time mother to my 6-year old foster. I have had her since the day she was born. She is actually the daughter of my husband's niece. She didn’t have an easy start in life, she was born addicted to crack cocaine, but she is now six and a champion ballroom dancer! She is the motivating factor for me going into retirement; she is my new project. I want to give her the best chance in life.”

"What do you enjoy the most about working here?"

"It's a prison sentence! If I could leave tonight, I would go."

"What is the reason for not going?"

"I don't have enough money. I'm only messing... I like it here, not for the work, but for the people. In this shop, everyone comes here to talk. It's the best place to socialise; people tell you their life stories. Everyone talks to everyone; everyone meets here. This is the meeting place of Meath Street. The only reason that time goes quickly... but work-wise... I don't like it. We're getting too old for this type of work. The people are the only thing that makes it somewhat enjoyable."

“I have this clear memory of being 8 years old and walking to church alone on an early misty morning, looking down at the old cobblestones, knowing that my great-grandparents had walked the same route. It struck me and created a beautiful sense of connection. I have lived in the Tenters all my life. I grew up in the same house as my mother, and my grandfather moved into that house when he was 14. I was the fourth generation living there; even my father's family came from the same area. My parents began their married life in that same house and had their children. I only moved away to another house 30 years ago, which is only 100 yards away. This place is in my DNA. There is a deep sense of belonging that comes with such a history, with family generations before me that I have never met, but their decisions opened up my world and made it possible to have the life that I am living through. I was always interested in the history of the Tenters. I loved discovering new connections and hidden gems about my area that retold a story that was almost lost. I used to research and research, and I would tell my family, "Ah, did you know this and did you know that?" But you can only share so much with your family, so I took an opportunity to do some walking tours in the area. To my surprise, dozens of people turned up. I kept going, and tour after tour more people turned up; there was a morning when we were guiding 120 people through the narrow streets of the Tenters. It made me so proud that people were actually interested. We set up a Facebook group with over 1500 members where I can post my research and other families' stories, and they would be happy to read them. You know, my home doesn't stop at my front door; when I step outside, it is still my home. And you should think of your front door the same way. It's called a neighbourhood; we should do everything to tend it just as you would your garden because if you don't invest in your community, well, that's the future then. Community is as much a part of the history as any of the buildings; they too tell stories and make people feel connected and belonging just as it did for me walking to church that morning.”

“Fifty years ago, this place was a derelict building. There wasn't even electricity here, and the roof was falling in. In the early days of the Liberty Market, we used candles to light up the place. The owner bought second-hand sheets every week when the money for rent came in to finish the roof. But then, by '77, this place was absolutely jam-packed with people. You couldn't walk down here; it was so busy, just like the street. It was an amazing buzz to work here... Those were the times! There is a fellow who said to me the other day,"You've been here so long that your customers grew old together with ya!" It's true; we have many of those people still coming back, and their children are regular customers too. That feckin' Corona killed off a lot of them though… Do you see those ladies over there buying wool? They are the same customers, buying wool every week, and most of the customers that come here we know their parents and their children by their name. When customers come to this market, they are not only buying stuff; they are coming here for an experience. You take your time, you meet people, you have the chats. You give your time to everyone, you compliment their hair or the way they dressed, you ask about their family; it's a community. Now you go into a shop, you get what you need and get out. Often you don't even make eye contact with anyone. We had something here. There is a reason why I am still here every week at 78. As long as I can get out of bed, I will be here. I cast this place as a family, and I will never give it up.”

"Growing up, the sense of community I experienced in the Liberties felt as natural and unconditional as the love from my family. This was something I took for granted. In my 20’s I moved to the UK and started working in hotels, and my life began to revolve around my career. I was a career woman! I missed my family and Ireland, but I was here for the duration, and I was focused on climbing up that ladder. But then, life throws you a curveball. I became pregnant; it was an unexpected pregnancy, obviously. We were both very excited to welcome our first child, but I felt from the beginning that something was missing. I remember being so grateful to the hotel for offering me childcare so I could keep focusing on my essential career. It wasn't until I was pushing my beautiful baby in her stroller that I sensed something was amiss. Neighbours and acquaintances would offer their congratulations, a routine interaction that felt oddly superficial. People I knew would say, very politely and calmly, "Oh, how wonderful. Congratulations on having a baby." Then someone else I know would say, "Oh, you had a baby? Congratulations!" I sensed something was amiss but couldn’t yet pinpoint it, but then when she was six weeks old, I came home for a visit for the first time. My daughter is biracial, with a father of a Jamaican heritage, and her arrival caused quite a stir in the Liberties. Everyone was curious to see what she looks like. So, as soon as I walked out the door, it was like MAYHEM! Talk about positive vibes. Like, everyone from everywhere, even people I didn’t know, would come over screaming, "AWWW! ISN’T SHE SO BEAUTIFUL? LET ME TAKE A LOOK! LET ME HOLD HER! HERE, MARY!!! COME SEE THE BABY!" Taking her out of the pram, putting her around their shoulder, it would have been a crazy experience for any young mother, but I was the total opposite. I needed this. I needed to see others love her and celebrate her as much as I loved her. This experience was a stark contrast to my life in London. The welcome for her was so overwhelming yet so familiar. I just couldn’t go back… I realized right then and there that a career is nothing without loved ones and community around you.”

“Oh, man, where do I even start? You know, people have slapped so many labels on me over the years, it's like I'm more of a walking diagnosis than a person. ADHD, dyslexia, bipolar, schizophrenia, major depressive disorder, and this intense OCD that makes everyday stuff a huge deal for me. Sometimes, it's like my brain tells me to go to the right, but then my body yanks me to the left and off I go, ending up who knows where. Life's been a wild ride and I've just started to open up about it, I am still trying to put the pieces together. I was born premature and stuck in an incubator for the first couple of months of my life. My mom was just 15 when she had me. By the time she was 17, she had my sister too. Both of my parents were deep into heroin. Growing up was just one big blur of chaos. Like, my dad took an actual police chase with me sitting in the back seat when I was 12. When the police caught him, they couldn’t even arrest him right away; they had to bring me home first. Imagine that? My parents would disappear for days, leaving us with neighbours or whoever. And this one babysitter we had, a lad, let's not even go there… We were only seven and nine. Just know he did bad things to us... My best friend had a similar horror story with his uncle. There are huge chunks of my life I just can't remember. The abuse by that guy, it's like flashes—just bits and pieces, feeling frozen and can't move, and this weird memory of the colour yellow with flashing white right over my shoulder. My sister remembers more… she said I locked the door when that guy told me to… The docs say I was too young to really understand what was happening, that my brain's been trying to make sense of it ever since. All my run-ins with the law were always about fights. Never stole anything, never dealt drugs. Just couldn't control my temper. Got this thing of going from zero to a hundred real quick. Now, my sister, she's got her life sorted out. Five kids, a stable home. I'm the cool uncle who takes them boxing. I see her nearly every day. Makes me think about how different things could've been, you know?”

"Yes, I am from the area, we can say that. I was christened on Meath Street, married on Meath Street, and, please God, will be buried from Meath Street. I was born and now live in the same house as my grandparents lived, got married here, and reared my four kids. I was married to my husband for 59 years. I always loved to live here. This area is all about the community; it's like a village within the city. Everyone knows each other. People who used to live here were very poor; they were all tenement houses back then, but I still remember the community would get together before Easter, and they would scrub the streets; everyone helped each other out. The doors were always left open. I am glad that I lived in the time I did; it was a simpler era. There was more time for each other back then. I wouldn’t like to start over, rearing a family now; it is a tremendous pressure on parents."

“We grew up in the West of Ireland in Sligo, both of our parents are from Dublin, and they both independently decided to move away from Dublin to raise us. They became friends in Sligo, and we became friends as well.”

“We moved back to Dublin two years ago to go to college. I did my first year and then I dropped out, and now I'm working.” “There are many things that we miss from the county, it's definitely a different way of life. There are parts of it that I prefer here, like everything is just so much more accessible and there are so many facilities you can use.”

“Our hometown didn't even have a basketball court.” “Yeah, the house I lived in was quite isolated too so there wasn’t much to do. Here, my friends just live up the road, and there are more opportunities here too.”

“On the other hand, it’s a lot more peaceful down in the West, more relaxed and not as expensive as Dublin. “Our parents definitely made a great decision to move there, at the time this area was becoming more and more dangerous, and there was a lot of issues with drugs, which is still an issue, but we are a lot more mature, I guess, not to be influenced by it.

“It's sad to see people struggling and not having much support.” “There is this girl I went to school with, and she was showing me this video of her 14-year-old brother riding down the streets with bags of weed trying to sell on the streets. I am not sure how it was 20 years ago, but it is definitely not getting better.”

"Would you consider moving back to Sligo to raise your kids too?"

“I don't think I would…”

“Nah, many of our friends have moved to different countries like Australia, the US, or to Spain. They seem to have a much better quality of life, with great weather. They also have more opportunities to live a colourful life, which is very attractive for us too.”

“The Liberties took a bad turn. I think the companies that built the student accommodations took the government for a ride. Most of these buildings are now converted to short-term accommodation. This area used to be a great community, and despite not living here since 2015, back

then, there was a very strong community spirit. I can really feel the difference every time I come back. What made the Liberties special is nearly gone. The older generations are still holding some of it together, but a lot of young people have moved on. They also housed about 15-20 thousand new transient people who kind of exist in this area but live separate lives from the locals, and this doesn't help the community or the local businesses. We used to have amazing places here, with a true community feel. During the recession, when nobody had money, spaces were free, and there were so many events, parties and art exhibitions going on. Many of these events were free or you would donate a fiver, bring your own booze, and have a great night out for twenty quid. Right now, there is no space and everything is quite expensive. The recession was tough times for businesses but an amazing time for creativity because so much creativity comes from available spaces. If you give people space, they will make amazing things. At the time, I truly believed that Dublin was heading towards becoming a city like Berlin or Amsterdam, beaming with artistic creativity and community spaces, where people could gather and talk and make art. I do hope whatever is developing right now is just a temporary state. This area has its own unique spirit and resilience and I feel that this is just a phase of transformation, kind of gathering energy, ready to burst into bloom again.”

“I had an alcohol and tablet addiction, but I've been clean since I got out of the hospital. I broke my leg while messing around with a mate, pretending to do a UFC fight. We were a bit drunk, he flipped me, and I broke my leg on the curb. It was stupid… While in prison, I worked in the kitchen and earned a certificate in culinary arts. I just need to get another certificate, and I could be a qualified chef in the next few years. I just have to heal my leg so I can continue my education. In the prison, I was clean. I worked, I studied, went to the gym, and played football on Sundays. I was stable. Honestly, sometimes I wish I were back instead of being out here because this place is chaos. I've lived all my life in this area, but it's completely different from when I grew up. Crack is everywhere; the Liberties is the supermarket of drugs, and they don't even care to hide it anymore. They stand there and smoke without any issues. The guards will stop you if you drink on the street and pour your drink onto the ground, but they drive by people injecting. I got out of prison last year on the 21st of December, just before Christmas. My house got boarded up while I was in prison, so I had to spend Christmas on the streets. I'm now fighting with the corporation to get housing. No offence to the Ukrainians, I know what they had to go through, it's tough, but they get housing with no issues, and I've lived all my life here and have to sleep on the streets. All the people sleeping in tents in this area are Dubliners, you know? As soon as I get my leg healed and a one-bedroom flat, I'll start fresh. I'll get back to my studies, get a job… I have a forklift license; I can work in a warehouse. I just need to get my leg healed and have a place to call home, you know what I mean?”

We received incredible coverage across national media for this project. See below to read more about it.

'Photo exhibition shines a light on ‘unique lives’ of people in the Liberties' - The Irish Independent

'Meath Street - Noel's Deli' - RTE Radio One

‘I can’t dwell on the past,’ says young Liberties woman who lost both parents to addiction when she was a toddler - The Irish Independent

'Tara O'Kelly shares her story as part of the Culture Date with Dublin 8 festival' - The Irish Independent on YouTube