[It] was a small town. About, um, twenty-five mile, thirty mile from Belfast. Called [town]. And, half there and half in [another town], which is an even smaller town. A further five mile on. And so sort of one-street towns. And, living on the outskirts of those.
For Maureen, it meant ‘the country’:
Yes, I grew up in the country. I grew up beside [a lough] – the western shores of [the lough]. Um, we lived about, maybe a mile and a half from the lough. Where I live now, I moved five miles down the road, but I’m nearer the lough now. Um, we had a country upbringing.
Sara’s concept of rurality included a mixture of town and farm references:
My family were farming, a farming family.… Daddy, me father, didn’t work outside, none of my parents worked outside the home. The farm was their main source of income … Yes, we lived- [name of place]. Which is a small townland. Um, it’s about fifteen miles from [larger town]. Um, we have a primary school and a post office, but that would be about it, in terms of services. Um [town] would be the nearest town, and it would be four miles away.
And, finally, Olivia and Patricia both defined ‘rural’ in terms of farming:
O: Well, I grew up in rural [county]. So, we lived on a farm … When I was very little, I can remember, sheep, cattle and pigs and hens on the farm, as well as beef cattle. But, gradually then, it became an all-beef farm. And that’s what it is now, with my brother still on the farm.
P: I grew up on a farm as well. South [county]. Um. It was, quite a small farm.… And we had pigs. But, like Olivia said there were always, hens, and, maybe a cow, and milk, and then, a goat. Which, I usually had responsibility for [laughs]. And things like that around the farm as well. Um. But i-it did become more intensive. And certainly, say the number of sows, for example, would have been, been built up, built up, and, the age at which the pigs were weaned would have been reduced. And I would have been very much aware of all of those issues. And very much involved, in all of those issues. Um. R- really, growing up on a farm, you had to do all those things.
Not all of the women were as vocal as Eva and Barbara in identifying themselves as ‘rural’ (see quotes at the beginning of this segment). Nevertheless, many of the participants’ narratives conveyed a similar love of place, thus strengthening claims purporting that identities are contextually specific (Bock, 2006). This was especially true of the narratives in which being from a rural area was not singled out as an extraordinary fact, but rather as normality, as with Irene: ‘I grew up in [small town], in the country.… Always kind of in the rural. I always kind of stayed close to home.’ For Veronica, it showed in her account of having to leave her rural home in order to obtain a job promotion:
I did live in a rural area up until two years ago. But if I really wanted to follow promotion and if I really wanted to get to, I’m middle management in this organization … If I wanted to get [to] that level, I had to leave my area. You know. Um. There aren’t that many promotional opportunities for women in rural areas.… And, and that’s a bit of a disadvantage. I couldn’t have this job without moving to the city. And that’s regrettable. For rural women. For rural society. For, rural development. That’s a bit regrettable.
Regardless of the differences in terminology and concepts used to define ‘rural’, each of the women’s narratives reflected the indelible impact of the ‘rural’ on their lives and personal identities. As will be shown in the next section, these rural identities connected in fascinating ways with their identities as women.
2.4.2 Identity: Woman
Well. Don’t, don’t try to be a man, is one thing. I mean, and that’s something that I would have fought very hard because as I said I was very much right through working in a man’s world. Even down to the fact I refused to get dressed up in a navy pinstripe suit. I thought, ‘I’m not doing that!’ [laughs] … But probably as I got older, I always wore a skirt. And I made a point of doing it. ‘I’m not going to come in here as the, you know, sort of, [laughing] half-man type person wearing pants.’ So, I mean, even wee things like that, I refused, I refused to to be turned into into a man. And I mean at times, I mean whenever they would have been debating things- I mean [I] feel I was coming from a female point of view. And I do think women have a different way of looking at things. And I would have said that. I think you need both. I mean, I’m not- And that I suppose is another thing. Don’t try to do men down. They are human beings. They have their points of view. They’re coming at it from a different point of view. Try and work with them – as human beings. I, I, I always feel very uncomfortable when I’m with other women and they just start getting at men. I don’t think that’s on.
-Katherine (emphasis hers)
As illustrated appositely by Katherine’s words, the robust and intricate junctures at which these women’s distinctly rural voices intersected with others of their voices in addressing issues of gender identity and/or what they perceived as feminist issues confirmed Little and Panelli’s (2003) declaration of the rural as a source for generating original concepts rather than as simply another subject for examination within current theoretical frameworks. Despite their concerns regarding the place of women in society in Northern Ireland, many of the women were quite concerned that they not be viewed as feminists9, and brought that point to my attention with no prompting or direct referencing of feminism on my part. Sara provided a further illustration of this uniquely complex intersection of viewpoints. Although she spoke with conviction about the negativity of the Catholic Church being ‘so male-orientated and dominated’ (emphasis hers), the very word ‘feminist’ elicited from her a tremendous reaction:
And I would say as well, I’ve had exposure to, feminists, you know. And- I don’t li- I don’t, you know- Better watch what I say, I suppose. But it just gives me images of militants and going out and burning your bra and stuff. And, even-funny I was reading something came in the post to me from the WRDA – Women’s Resource and Development Agency – and, I was reading their mission statement and or, or some of their stuff in their new brochure. And it said they come at it from a feminist perspective. And all of a sudden I was going [makes shuddering noise]. You know, because, I don’t see myself as a feminist. I see myself as a, a family woman, as a mother. As a worker. And-Maybe feminism is too much of a challenge for me. [laughs]
Sara’s identification of herself as ‘a family woman, as a mother. As a worker’ holds true to literature that suggests rural women are concerned that they be viewed in the rural community as nurturing and caring (Saugeres, 2002; Heather et al., 2005). Her frustration at the lack of women in leadership in her faith community (a situation likely to be identified as problematic by feminists) was later followed by her reassertion that she abides by traditional roles, suggesting a complex dance between identifying with feminist ideals and rejecting the label ‘feminist’. However, even in this complex dance, she demonstrated confidence through continuing to express her opinion at the risk of offending me (‘Better watch what I say, I suppose’) and also by speaking against an organization that supported her work in community development. In so choosing to confidently speak ideas that resonated with feminist thinking (albeit not under the label ‘feminist’) and to positively assert her identity within the rural community in roles that could be perceived by feminists as oppressive, Sara represented several of the women in the study who embodied Shortall’s (2008, p. 452) view of non-participation (here in feminism) as a ‘valid and legitimate choice … made from a position of power’.
Sara was not alone in characterizing herself as filling traditional roles, nor in