The ISA JournalIn Ómós do Eoin: What Would Jon Do?

Colby Holtz is a student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and a Featured Blogger. He is studying with ISA in Dublin, Ireland.

I thought of studying or interning in Ireland when I was 16 years old. The first people I talked to about it were my grandma, Sherry, and my grandpa, Jon. When I told them, they lit up. They’d visited with my great aunt and uncle in 2003 and constantly raved about the trip as I grew up. Ever since, they encouraged me every time the topic came up, stating specifically that I would love it there. I was going to be their excuse to come back to bask in our Irish-Catholic, anticolonial heritage once more. That was the plan before Jon was diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 2023. We lost him less than a year later, last summer.

I was already planning the timeline of this trip as he fought the cancer, knowing this summer is when I would be in Ireland. The first anniversary of his passing was just over a week before I landed here. I promised him that I would still come to Ireland and dedicate the time to him, so that’s how I’ve intentionally been living. Whenever I’m unsure of what to do or how to spend the night in Dublin, I ask myself: “What would Jon do?”

My grandpa was one of the most charismatic and outgoing people I’ve ever known, embarrassingly so at times. Trying to experience Dublin as he once had has landed me in the most random conversations with strangers who have shown me a warmth akin to what Jon showed everyone he interacted with.

I’ve found myself discussing the similarities between the geopolitics in the Middle East and Ireland’s history in a late-night diner with some well-meaning but slightly confused lads from Donegal at three in the morning, being reminded of how the Huguenots were exiled to Ireland by an older gentleman passing at the bus stop right in front of their dedicated cemetery, and even running into the same two locals two nights in a row: once in the train and again just passing by on the street.

Living how my grandfather would in Ireland led me to scramble for a last-minute ticket for the Irish-language, antifascist, punk-rap group Kneecap’s concert at Fairview Park. My pacifist, former-hippie, activist grandparents landed in Ireland at Shannon Airport and were welcomed with a protest over the “Shock and Awe” invasion of Iraq. They’ve been vehemently anti-war for their whole lives; the least I could do is show up to support one of the only prominent music groups that is vocally standing up for human rights and against the ongoing genocide. On top of that, as a frequent concert attendee, it was an exhilarating and phenomenal performance, along with the group’s trademark defiance towards all things imperialist.

I’ve only just learned about the Irish language in the past year through music and movies, and I’m starting to pick it up as a way to connect with a niche side of the culture. I’m confident that if Jon were alive, he’d be learning it with me so we could go try to order at a pub or cafe in the native language. 

“In Ómós do Eoin,” or “In Honor of Jon,” is the title of my three-blog series covering my time in Dublin and Ireland. I hope this serves as proper documentation for my thoughts and experiences this summer in relation to my grandfather, Jon, who should’ve been by my side.