Deirdre Anna Rose Kelly
speaker
136 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard May 2026
last heard 1 May
Deirdre Anna Rose Kelly’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in May 2026 with 1.
Appearances
Welcome to Drama of the Week.
I started working as a classroom assistant in a bond school at Irish Language Medium Primary School last year.
After reaching and then exceeding the point of desperation with my previous data administration job, I emailed all nine of the Bunscullina within Belfast and thankfully, the one that is within the shortest walk to my house took me on.
I rationalised that if I didn't like the job, at the very least, I'd be using and improving my Irish.
I'd learned Irish at school in Letterkenny and on visits to Ironmoor Island as a teenager.
I didn't realise how much of a privilege this was until I moved across the border and even then the words caught in my throat.
I felt embarrassed at my inarticulateness, the clumsiness of my attempts at expression, my inability to be funny in what should have been my native tongue.
I always envied anyone who'd attended an Irish medium school.
I was assigned to work one-on-one with a child in primary one and felt like a child myself, as if I was starting school again for the first time.
On Friday the 9th of May, the electricity in the school went off around half past nine and didn't come back on before the end of the day.
I thought surely we'd close, but no such luck.
We just held it together until two o'clock.
Thank God the summer came early this year.
I kept hearing, I suppose that this is all the summer we're going to get now, which drove me mad.
We can't even have it before we're annoyed that it's gone.
My wee student copied out his own name, five times on a whiteboard, in his wobbly, erratic, but increasingly legible hand.
Anish or Hyacht and Towery, now that summer's coming.
I was worn out after a long day with no power, and sore from sitting hunched in a chair meant for a five-year-old.
I wasn't sure I'd bother going to the Baltenew celebrations some friends had planned.
But I repeated to myself my milk toast mantra for life.
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