I became a son-in-law in the United States

Chapter 106 No Irish Need Apply!

At this moment, the crowd was still pushing their way into the square.

On the steps in front of the city hall, Lowell and his group looked around with binoculars. Five minutes had passed, but Gia was nowhere to be seen on the stage.

"Haha, I knew this would happen! The Kennedy family should all die!"

However, at that moment, a commotion arose at the edge of the square.

The dense crowd seemed to be split apart by something, and Jia walked out from backstage.

She was dressed simply, but her temperament was exceptionally stunning. A gentle breeze blew, lifting her hair that was draped over her shoulders and letting it fall back down.

She didn't dial the number; she just walked straight over and stood in front of the podium, where the seven thousand audience members were sitting.

Some people were talking, some were coughing, and some were holding children, preparing to leave.

Jia stood on the stage, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. Remembering Luther's words, she quickly calmed down and finally spoke:

"My name is Gia Kennedy. I was born in Boston and grew up on the docks, less than two miles from where you are standing."

Her voice traveled through the square and the crowd, hitting the marble of the city hall and bouncing back, and the crowd fell silent.

"Every morning when I wake up, the first sound I hear isn't birdsong, but the sound of ship horns in the harbor. The first smell I get is the sea and the fishy smell, along with the coal smoke drifting from the opposite dock. That's my impression of Boston."

After saying all this, Jia calmed down completely, as if the world had disappeared before her eyes.

All that remains are memories of the past, the injustices experienced, and a trace of the hardships of being Irish.

At this moment, the people in twos and threes in the square, those who had come to collect bread, suddenly paused for a moment and then fell silent.

"But, do you know what?"

Jia gradually got into the zone, stepped forward, and scanned the crowd:

"When I went to school, there was a period of time when people told me every day that I didn't belong in this city, and that feeling continues to this day..."

"Sometimes they say it to your face, sometimes they hint at it, but you all recognize that phrase, you've all heard it: No Irish Need Apply!"

These words were like a red-hot iron thrown into the crowd, and men and women immediately erupted in anger.

"No Irish Need Apply" means "Irish people don't need to apply" or "No Irish people are required."

This phrase is not just an English phrase, but a highly representative discriminatory slogan in 19th-century American history, clearly demonstrating the attitude of American society towards the Irish over the past century.

Prejudice and exclusion have not diminished at all, even after a century.

A curse suddenly erupted from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a commotion, with angry voices rising like a tide.

Some people clenched their fists and waved them, some covered their faces and cried, and some remained silent with sullen faces.

Yes, which Irishman hasn't heard that phrase? Which Irishman hasn't seen it?

From their childhood, this phrase was posted in shop windows, on factory gates, and even printed directly in newspapers.

NINA, like an insult composed of four letters, is passed down from ancestors to fathers, and from fathers to oneself.

Some people have to take on the hardest and most tiring jobs in order to earn a few extra cents.

Someone was beaten up by white people after attending Mass at a Catholic church.

Are they being arbitrarily penalized for having their wages deducted simply because they are Irish?

Of course, Jia was also a participant in all these extraordinary events.

In Wellesley, the Kennedy family background not only offered no help but often put her in danger.

She was ridiculed by her classmates, criticized by her professors, and gossiped about by other girls in the school.

What right does the daughter of an Irish Catholic have to come to Wellesley?

By the time they arrived, the square was already buzzing with excitement, and Jia's voice was still echoing.

"They said we were rude, that we were alcoholics, that we were violent." Her voice rose slightly, and with a change in expression, she firmly captured everyone's attention.

"They said we were a burden on society, a burden on the country, and that we should go back to the docks, back to the railway, back to where we 'belonged to'."

But! They never tell us who built those docks, who constructed those railways, or who toiled in the factories day after day.

Then, she pointed to the crowd below the stage: "It's you! It's your fathers, your grandfathers... and perhaps, your descendants..."

Some people in the crowd had already started wiping away tears, and the cigarettes in their mouths had long since gone out. Everyone was silent, watching Jia on the stage.

"My father, Joseph Kennedy the Elder, started working at the docks when he was sixteen and saw everything you see today."

"She told me that in this city, generations of Irish people have come and gone, but one thing has never changed: we are always at the bottom."

Here, Gia uses "we" instead of "they" or anything else.

She was completely immersed in that state, confident, easy-going, and her words were infectious.

"In Boston, and even throughout the United States, Irish men are always the first to be fired, and Irish women always get the lowest wages and do the hardest work."

Our children, on the other hand, are always assigned to the last row of seats.

We paid taxes, built their schools, repaired their roads, supported their communities and police, and then what do they tell us?

They told us that Irish people are not fit to be members of parliament.

Upon hearing this, the entire City Hall Square could no longer contain itself, and angry roars filled the air.

"Janedy!"

The first sound pierced through the clouds, its power awe-inspiring; then came the second and the third.

"Janette! Kennedy!"

And so, the shouts of people in the square for Kennedy continued to roll forward like thunder.

Old Joseph stared at his daughter on the stage, completely stunned. Her speech was so moving and captivating that he almost clapped his hands until they were sore.

Is this really something my own daughter would do?

Daniel covered his face, looking incredulous. He hadn't expected Gia to grow up so fast, especially when she stood on the stage; he almost didn't recognize her.

However, Johnny and Catherine couldn't help but cheer when they saw their sister's wonderful performance.

But looking at Gia again, her gaze was calm and profound, finally settling on Luther in the audience, with a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth.

She raised her hand to signal everyone to be quiet, and miraculously, everyone actually quieted down.

For the first time, she experienced that power, the power that could be called a sense of control or influence.

Then, she slowly turned around and looked at the other side of the square.

Those standing there weren't dockworkers or stevedores, but women.

Please vote and add to your favorites, thank you so much!