Growing up in an Irish Catholic enclave on the Southside of Chicago, the Claddagh symbol was commonplace, adorning artwork on walls, murals on the sides of pubs, or stained glass in homes. In 8th grade, girls in my neighborhood would often receive a claddagh ring as a birthday, graduation, or confirmation gift, marking a time of growth, a coming of age in some respects. It was a gift we would look forward to receiving because it made us feel like we weren’t just kids anymore. I received my own ring as a graduation present, & I couldn’t wait to wear it as I began high school. At that time, wearing the claddagh ring was merely a means to indicate if you were single (facing outward) or seeing someone (facing inward). I enjoyed flipping the ring back & forth with each teenage fling, but I otherwise did not think much of the symbol or what it meant to me. As I went away to college, the ring was set aside. My world expanded & I no longer looked for an opportunity to declare my relationship status on my finger as I developed my own sense of self. After graduating from college & moving into my first apartment in Chicago, I found my ring in a box of mementos. Looking at the symbol, its two hands (representing friendship) holding a heart (love) with a crown fixed atop it (loyalty), though familiar, carried a greater weight now. It reminded me of my family, my home, a sense of belonging, & tied me to my past. Wearing it now feels like carrying a bit of my past with me every day. 

– Melissa Flisk

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more