Little to do

The 1980s on Dublin’s northside, dole queues leak onto shabby streets, friends enjoy banter in waiting in line, and in their endless supply of free time, their chat concerns their dreams, for one, dissatisfied with the music Ireland is producing, they could be ‘the blacks of Ireland,’ and bring soul to Dublin, Jimmy Rabitte has aspirations of the life fandango and from his parents house in the north inner-city he begins to assemble the greatest band in the world. The Commitments showed a happier side of Dublin during a recession which now pales in significance to the current one; it showed the potential for creativity and ambition at a time of hopelessness.

The Commitments are back, and the bad times are too. Dole queues are thronged again. There are contrasts between the different people signing-on; the pain of so many has been well documented, particularly those supporting families, but within the twenty-somethings there is a different atmosphere. They are just out of college, they are well used to doing nothing and surviving on very little money; for many of them the recession will have seen an improvement in their circumstances. They will be the one’s poised, and indeed assigned to the task of rebuilding the country. That is of course, if they decide to stay.

In the 1980s the twenty-somethings were probably less likely to have had a college education. Twenty years ago those twenty-somethings could hardly of anticipated the unprecedented wealth Ireland would enjoy, and even if they did they would be even less likely to believe that the Government who made it happen would then destroy it in two years. But twenty years of free third-level education finds a generation of our best and brightest wasting their expertise in a social welfare office built during the great building boom at the turn of the 21st century.

The social welfare office the Navan Road is bright and airy; here a group of twenty-something friends gather for their monthly sign on, the group connected by a brother and sister and their friends who all happen to live in Dublin 7, all, coincidentally, have surnames that fall between F and J. The second Wednesday of every month has become a sort of social outing for the group.

“We’re like the Commitments, unemployed but living the life fandango,” said Robin Jardine, graduate architect who found just one month’s work in an architect’s since graduating and has now turned his attention to producing cider as alternative to a profession in which there is up to 70% unemployment. He hopes to turn a hobby into a career by becoming a craft brewer; he collects free apples from an orchard on the grounds of UCD, and is currently producing the cider at a farmhouse just outside Graigenamana in County Kilkenny with another unemployed friend who lives there, he himself a musician on his third album.

Robin’s sister Jacinta, Heather Gray and Carl Giffney are all artists; they all graduated from NCAD in the last two years and see the limited potential in finding a job as the opportune time to further their artistic inclinations. It has often been the case that it is in recessions that creativity will flourish.

Rather than languish in dole queues though, there is another option, an option the Irish have traditionally excelled at. Three of those spoken to approached FÁS with a view to up-skilling were asked if they had considered emigrating. Many graduates want to stay, or at least leave on their own terms but decision to stay, it appears, is the harder choice to make.

For Ann-Marie Fallon another graduate architect, it seems the time has come and, having waited two years already, will not waiting any longer. She has an interview with a recruitment agency in London next week. "Apart from everything, I quite like Ireland and never thought I'd see the day I would be abandoning it. I held out so long in the hope things would turn for the better, but I'm regretting that I stayed around as much as I did."

Aside from artisan indulgences, there is further scope for staying put. Kieran Flood who holds a degree in biology from Trinity College Dublin, has been volunteering with the Irish Wildlife Trust for over a year and a half. He undertook a study of the newt population of Ireland as part of his work, and submitted his report this week. “Yeah, I’m enjoying work but I think that by this time next year I’d want to be getting a pay cheque,” he said.

Roisin Grimes who holds a degree in European Studies for the University of Limerick and spent two years working in Canada before unfortunately timing her return for late 2008 is currently volunteering with CityWise, a programme for educating children from socially disadvantaged backgrounds in Dublin. “What I really want to do is change career. I did this to see if I’d like it, I love it, I love working with the kids and I’m hoping to get into St Pat’s next year.”

Before settling for emigration, Ann-Marie Fallon, decided to “do something constructive”, and has up-skilled, including doing an EU certificated Passive House Planners course, but until she does two years work in professional practice, she cannot call herself an architect, “I need to be mentored. I can only call myself an architectural graduate not an architect. I cannot practice, I cannot sign off on construction, I cannot advertise.”

Some of her friends are participating in FÁS’s Work Placement Programme for unemployed graduates; they aren’t in the Navan Road Social Welfare office today because despite still receiving benefit payments, they do not need to sign on each month. The scheme affords graduates the opportunity to gain practical professional experience in their field. As part of the scheme, participants are not paid but can continue to receive welfare payments. Some employers are taking advantage of the scheme however so it’s not something that will be appeal to everybody.

The group of twenty-somethings emerge from the Navan Road social welfare office into a crisp fresh morning, Kieran is going up to the Irish Wildlife Trust’s office in Glasnevin, Robin’s going to go to Graigenama later in the day for the next stage of the cider making process which he hopes will be ready before Christmas, Roisin is going back to do prepare for her class in Ballyfermot tomorrow and the artists will go for midmorning coffee and a trip to Tesco in back in Phibsboro.

Emerging adulthood is the term given to post-pubescence nowadays, a time for dawdling in college and experiential pursuits like joining a band or being an artist or a cider brewer, before settling into a career somewhere closer to thirty. Free of the unfortunate burdens facing those with families and negative equity, the twenty-somethings take the time to experiment and find their way. It’s not their mess, but it is their opportunity.