LIKE MANY IRISH adults, I spent 14 years learning our native language in the classroom but left with the ability to only string a few very random sentences together.

They are so awkward and truncated that if I were to speak to them in English during a regular conversation with another adult, they might assume that I was having a stroke or some kind of neurological episode and phone an ambulance.

“I have one brother and a red school bag.”

“There are no clouds in the sky today.”

“Can I go to the toilet?”

I feel both ashamed and disappointed at my lack of Irish. I try to lob in a few words As Gaeilge every day, but it’s very limited. Things like uisce, mála scoile, bainne and gúna are about the height of it and the thoughts of trying to converse with a Gaeilgeoir, or even my growing children, fills me with panic.

As the school term gets properly underway, so does the obair bhaile, and I’m already dreading the day when they ask me to help them with something in Irish that’s beyond my capabilities. I feel utterly stupid at the thoughts of it and am immediately transported back to my Leaving Cert Irish Oral where, after trotting out my prepared phrases, my mind went completely blank, and I froze.

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My powers of speech seemed to leave me for a full minute, and I only had the ability to say Tá brón orm while I held back a weird urge to lob in some French, which I seemed to have a much better grasp of, despite only starting it in fourth class.

For most of my school days, I reasoned that I was just bad at Irish, that it wasn’t for me or that I was the problem. But when I look back and contrast it with how positive my children’s........

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