Over the past few months, TikToks related to Ireland and Irish culture have flooded my For You page. At first, I assumed it was a fluke or microtrend that would be over in a matter of days. However, my constant interaction with Irish-related content has started a strange introspective journey that many other Irish Americans and non-Irish people alike have been taking for years.

European Americans should embark on self-reflection and discovery not only to learn about themselves, but also to better understand their place in history and inspire them to lift up underrepresented and targeted voices. 

Ethnically, I am over half-Celtic, but due to my third- and fourth-generation status, I only feel a distant connection to my roots. I have always been aware of my heritage and glimpses of my origins have been present throughout my life — from my father’s claddagh wedding band to my grandfather’s strange Scots-Irish sayings to my great-grandmother’s corned beef recipe that my mother makes every year on Saint Patrick’s Day. 

I visited Ireland when I was 13 years old and although I enjoyed my trip, I didn’t feel any major spiritual or emotional connection to my supposed “homeland.” Growing up, people around me preached that you should consider yourself an American above all else, no matter your ethnicity or background. I agreed with this idea for a while, especially because I never knew my immigrant ancestors.

As time went on, I felt more skeptical about this notion, considering that the city I grew up in — Chattanooga, Tennessee — was stolen Cherokee, Muscogee and Yuchi land. Our city’s history was steeped in the trauma and guilt of being the starting point of the violently forced expulsion of Native Americans from the Southeast, better known as the Trail of Tears.

Only five years after the Trail of Tears began, the Great Famine occurred in Ireland. Although the lack of potato growth caused the famine, the British government’s inadequate handling of the crisis through a lack of intervention led to the deaths of nearly 1 million Irish people and the emigration of millions more. Historians still argue whether their neglect was intentional, and some even argue that it could be loosely categorized as a genocide.

The struggles of Irish people did not end after the famine, nor when immigrants came to the United States. When they first arrived in the U.S., Irish people were often not considered “white” and were severely discriminated against. 

Irish immigrants worked with freed slaves in dangerous and labor-intensive jobs such as agriculture, mining and construction. While many Irish people decided to unionize and fight with them, others eventually fell for propaganda against freed slaves and collaborated in their oppression.

As I’ve been confronted with more Irish content on the internet, I’ve reflected on how people who were previously oppressed were able to switch up so quickly on oppressed people and adopt the same racist, colonialist and xenophobic mentalities that had harmed them and their ancestors so much in the past.

I cannot help but think of the current crisis happening in our country, with mass deportations from the Trump administration causing irreparable harm. I have reflected on how my ancestors fled Ireland to escape oppression and find a better life for themselves, and were luckily able to come here legally. But the people who are now going through similar struggles face much more difficult barriers to becoming a part of our country. 

In the days of heavy Irish immigration in the 19th century, the standards for entering America legally as an Irish person were to show up and have no visible disabilities. Now, those hoping to gain citizenship must face paperwork, quotas, immigration courts, and risk brutal abuse from Immigration and Customs Enforcement and being deported back to their home country — all while dealing with rising anti-immigrant rhetoric.

Irish Americans and non-Irish Americans alike should reflect on their family histories so that we can better empathize with and uplift the voices of immigrants and victims of genocide in Palestine, Sudan, the Democratic Republic of the Congo and more.

Being reminded of the “pretty” and “aesthetic” parts of our countries of origin shouldn’t make us feel homesick, but instead motivate us to be more self-aware, deconstruct internal colonialist mentalities and advocate for others.

In one of the more viral TikToks from the recent “Green Wave,” a creator states that she “yearns for Ireland the way weird men yearn for Japan.” Nearly half a million viewers — including myself — seem to agree with her. Many Americans don’t only feel drawn to Ireland for spiritual or ancestral reasons, but also out of jealousy for its progressive politics, healthy democracy, and willingness to stand up for oppressed groups and countries.

While the yearning is understandable, we shouldn’t just sit in disappointment. Instead, we should use our immigrant roots and rebellious heritage to fight for a future we believe in. We must always remember that we have more in common with our immigrant neighbors than the government wants us to believe.