Larrier girls kick against the stereotypes

SCHOOL REPORT/ST LAURENCE O'TOOLE'S NATIONAL SCHOOL, DUBLIN:The importance of taking part is more than a platitude in one north inner city girls' primary school

LOST IN THE warren that is the north inner city, looking for St Laurence O'Toole's Girls' NS. Three teenage girls sit outside in a golden splash of unseasonable warmth. Directions are sought and given.

"We were in school there."

"Did you play football?"

"Yeah; we played in Croke Park!"

They, and many others from the school. Gaelic football and soccer have been grafted seamlessly onto school life in the last decade. On this day, several "Larriers" soccer players are present at the opening of a redeveloped artificial pitch in the Sheriff Street area.

Bertie Ahern is here, in beaming, ribbon-cutting mode, pronouncing benediction on the new facility. He displays that incorrigible compulsion of the politician to kick any ball placed between the self and a camera. The Larrier girls kick back. Camera shutters click.

Aodhán Ó Ríordáin looks on. He recently became principal after eight years in the school. Shortly after his arrival in March 2000, he organised Gaelic football and soccer teams, the first in the school's 150-year history.

"I felt a Gaelic team, initially, would be of benefit to the kids. They might enjoy it, get some exercise. And develop a sense of school pride, which is very important. That's the main thing, the sense of identity, trying to change their view of themselves. They had a very negative self-image."

He found that Sheriff Street's well-documented problems had filtered down to its younger residents. A thick pall of pessimism hung over the Larrier girls. The introduction of football let some light in.

"Initially they would have believed they wouldn't win games. They just don't believe in themselves. They don't think they're as good as people from other areas.

"But once they began to play and win, they started to expect to win. Now when they lose they don't mind because they know they're not losing because of where they're from. It's just that, you win some, you lose some."

Winning some became rather a habit for the school. In 2001, the neophyte footballers won a Cumann na mBunscol title in Croke Park. Further victories in Croker followed in 2002 and 2005. Soccer titles were collected in 2003, 2004 and 2006.

Those days in Croke Park were shot through with meaning for the school and wider Sheriff Street community. The little details are packed away in Aodhán Ó Ríordáin's memory. In 2001, the 75-year-old school caretaker mounted a tearful post-match pitch invasion.

In 2002, Ó Ríordáin walked into the dressingroom to a silence to raise gooseflesh, as the girls, almost unbelieving, absorbed the slow-release shock and joy of winning their second title in succession.

A father of one of the winning team's players told him a story over a pint one night.

"He was late for the final because he was actually in court with his son. His mood wasn't helped by the fact it was a wet and miserable day. Then he sees his daughter, Nadine. She plays a stormer and the girls win.

"He was tucking her into bed that night and asked her: 'What was it like playing in Croker?' She said: 'It was great, but I felt sorry for my marker because she didn't win'."

Welling with pride at his daughter's achievement and dignity in victory, while she slept he scraped the Croke Park mud from her boots and kept it as a souvenir.

Such stories inspire the new principal. Sport is no panacea for social ills, but it can do some little good. Through the school, soccer and football have drawn many men deeper into their daughters' lives.

"We have big problems with dads getting involved in their children's education. It's normally seen as the mother's role. Soccer, particularly, is an ideal way for dads to get involved. It's something they can communicate with their kids through. It can be difficult enough for a dad, who maybe doesn't have much education, to talk to his kids about what's happening in school. But they can all talk about sport. And they can cheer from the sidelines."

Before the mood becomes too light-headed up in the silver lining, a jolt of shock enters the conversation. It is a reminder that visceral currents of violence and pain still course through this area.

Earlier, we had met Shannon Griffin, a friendly 12-year-old, the school's star player.

In May 2005, her father was shot dead while participating in an attempted armed robbery of Lusk post office.

"For her to be school captain is a big deal. She's still very pro-school, wants to be in every day. It's a massive deal that she's still involved, She still has a good sense of herself, because she really could have packed it all in and gone another road. But she's really got it together, so we're very proud of her.

"We've children here whose fathers have died violent deaths. Sometimes you have a child for whom winning a competition means an awful lot more than maybe you realise. That's why, I suppose, we do celebrate the victories."

Sport is a release from the strictures of the classroom. There is a sweet and brilliant clarity to the teacher-pupil relationship on the broad green spaces of the football pitch.

"They need to know you're on their side, that you feel very passionately about them. In education it's very difficult to articulate that. It can be a bit of a trial to get them to do their maths or their English. But with football, once you're on the pitch you're not there to give out to them. When you're cheering them on, they really know where your emotions lie."

The kids' involvement, rather than winning, he says, is what counts. Reminded that he still rakes over the long-cold embers of defeat in big matches, he grins. Yes, losing hurts. Nonetheless, for once, the importance of taking part is more than a platitude.

"It's about the kids who are poor attenders who will come to school because training is on. Or the kid who's having difficulty behaving in school but begins to enjoy it more because they're involved in a team.

"Once you start something that's successful they all want to be part of it. There is a kind of togetherness about it. You have to promote that, about them being 20 or so girls all doing the same thing. They're all part of a unit; they enjoy the comfort that comes with that."

The girls play fearlessly, with grit and passion. On match days, their kits will always be immaculate. There are no odd shorts or socks, as often happens with primary school teams. Ó Ríordáin will not allow it. Appearance is important, and Sherrif Street has an image that has too often been tarnished.

"It's important for us to raise our expectations but also for other schools to raise their expectations about our kids. They're playing Sheriff Street; they're going to come up against a well-trained, disciplined bunch of girls who look well and who play hard but fair. And it changes their perception.

"I don't want other kids to have the perception of this area I had as a kid."

St Laurence O'Toole's

School: St Laurence O'Toole's Girls' NS, Sheriff St, Dublin.

Founded: 1848

Number of pupils: 121.

Sports played: Gaelic football, soccer, unihoc, basketball

School sports colours: Green and white

Major sporting honours: Three Cumann na mBunscol football titles, three FAI Dublin Schools' soccer titles, all won since 2001

Notable past pupils: Republic of Ireland soccer internationals Michelle Kane and Olivia O'Toole, the team's all-time highest scorer, with 53 goals