Gender Roles and Caring Work: Jane's Story

In her interview, Jane reflects on her experience of growing up in Anerley, England during the 1960s and 70s as part of an Irish diaspora family. She sheds light on the gendered expectations placed on individuals within the traditional family structure and how these pressures influenced her life. In particular, she highlights the stark differences in caregiving responsibilities assigned to the eldest daughter versus the eldest son.

Jane’s interview also reveals the similarities and contrasts between gendered labour in urban England and rural Ireland. While children in both environments shared caregiving responsibilities for their younger siblings, rural children carried out significantly more physical labour. As Jane recalls from the age of five or six: 

“They got them trained from such a young age to do work… They were doing all sorts… Looking after each other, taking the cows down, milking them… Looking after the chickens.”

Despite the stark differences in lifestyle and resources there was a shared expectation of familial caregiving, with caregiving duties disproportionately placed on daughters. While diaspora families often had greater opportunities and financial stability, and urban children were spared the physical labour of rural life, they were still bound by similar gendered expectations and roles. 

Rigid and strictly defined gender roles were deeply embedded within Irish society. Following the establishment of the Irish Free State, there was very little progress in advancing women’s rights, and until the 1970s, women remained largely absent from public and political life.[1] These gender roles were deeply rooted in the influence of the Catholic Church, which played a major role in shaping social and moral values in Ireland. 

These ideas were codified in the 1937 Constitution of Ireland, which described the family as ‘the natural primary and fundamental unit group of Society, and as a moral institution possessing inalienable and imprescriptible rights, antecedent and superior to all positive law.’[2] The Constitution also reinforced the division of gender roles by explicitly positioning women within the domestic sphere declaring that ‘the State recognised that by her life within the home, woman gives to the State a support without which the common good cannot be achieved.’[3] In doing so, the Irish government upheld the nuclear family structure and reinforced the belief that a woman’s primary role was as a homemaker and caregiver, while men were positioned as breadwinners and participants in the public sphere.

Jane was the second oldest of five children, with one older brother, one younger sister, and two younger brothers. Despite her parents’ mixed-religion marriage and her mother’s career in the police force — an unconventional choice for a woman during this time — her family life and upbringing remained quite traditional, with gender roles dictating domestic responsibilities. She attended a convent school, and describes her father as old-fashioned and protective, heavily involved in both the local church and the Irish Catholic community.

At seventeen, she experienced a profound loss when her mother suddenly passed away. As the eldest daughter, she was expected to take on significant caregiving duties, manage household labour, and support her younger siblings — all while studying for her A-Levels. This responsibility was particularly challenging, as her youngest brother was only six or seven at the time of their mother’s passing. Although extended family, neighbours and their community provided support, the primary caregiving duties fell on Jane. 

In spite of these challenges, she excelled academically. However, she was discouraged from pursuing higher education. As she recalls: 

“The school wanted me to go to university but I wanted to stay at home really and look after the others…It wasn’t a tradition in our family… I  think there was one cousin on my mum’s side who went to university and got pregnant. There was also a lingering fear that if you ‘go to university, you’ll get pregnant. What’s the point of doing that? Look what happened to your cousin…’ So there wasn’t much encouragement. I mean my dad was very proud of me doing well in my exams but, at the same time, he — I think he thought studying too much, what was the point of it really? ‘Go out and get a job’.”

This experience reflects broader societal concerns about women’s education in mid-20th-century Ireland. Women who pursued education often faced stigma, as they were blamed for declining birth and marriage rates. Education was viewed as a threat to traditional gender roles, as women would use their basic education to enter a convent, move to urban areas for work, or emigrate, instead of fulfilling expected domestic roles.[4.] 

Gender expectations had a significant influence on her life choices and opportunities for the next decade. She entered the workforce instead of university, balancing multiple jobs while continuing to care for her younger siblings. Although she enjoyed working and remained deeply committed to her family, her experience highlights the unequal burden placed on eldest daughters. Her younger sister, only two years her junior, left home far earlier and faced fewer caregiving responsibilities. Likewise, Jane’s older brother, despite being the eldest child, wasn’t expected to take on the same level of caregiving responsibilities and moved out years before she did. 

Jane remained living with her family into her late twenties, ensuring her youngest sibling was old enough to be independent before she left home. Although she had opportunities to leave earlier, her strong sense of duty and emotional ties kept her there. As she reflects: 

“It was just expected I think, it was just what people assumed I would do, I think. I think I — just got on with it really. It wasn’t — it was really — I think you just get on with things, don’t you? Now, looking back on it, I don’t know how I did it really.”

Jane’s story provides a powerful illustration of how mid-20th-century gender norms shaped caregiving expectations in both Ireland and the Irish diaspora. While there were some advances for women — her mother’s career in the police force and Jane’s ability to break off engagements — life choices and opportunities were still deeply influenced by traditional gender roles. Her experiences reflect broader cultural patterns in which daughters, particularly eldest daughters, were expected to dedicate themselves first and foremost to the family. Her story underscores how deeply ingrained gender norms dictated women’s responsibilities within the home, shaping both their personal and professional opportunities. 

After leaving school Jane immediately entered the workforce, taking on multiple jobs, though her main career was in social services. She completed a business administration course and held administrative roles before qualifying as a social worker at twenty-eight, a role she would continue in for the rest of her career. Her journey from administrative roles to a fully qualified social worker reflects a steady, self-made progression, highlighting both her resilience and independence.


[1.] Bacik, Ivana. “From Virgins and Mothers to Popstars and Presidents: Changing Roles of Women in Ireland.” The Irish Review (Cork), Summer, 2007, No. 35. Irish Feminisms (Summer, 2007), pp. 100-107.

[2.] Bunreacht na hÉireann, (Article 41.1.1).

[3.] Bunreacht na hÉireann, (Article 41.2.1).

[4.] Earner-Byrne, Lindsey. “The Family in Ireland, 1880-2015.” In The Cambridge History of Ireland. Vol. IV 1880 to the Present, Edited by Thomas Bartlett, 641-672. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018.

Celebrating St Brigid’s Day at the Irish Cultural Centre

Celebrating St Brigid’s Day at the Irish Cultural Centre

This St Brigid’s Day, after many years of capturing and preserving the stories of Irish women, Úna Gan A Gúna: Irish Women’s Oral History Collective held our first in-person event at the Irish Cultural Centre in London. There couldn’t have been a more fitting occasion than the National Day of Ireland’s female patron saint, St Brigid of Kildare, and weren’t we lucky that she graced us with her presence!

Tickets on Sale: An Evening with St Brigid and Úna Gan A Gúna - 1 Feb 2024

We’re so excited to announce our first in-person event in partnership with the Irish Cultural Centre, Hammersmith, London! St Brigid’s Day has always been a significant occasion in Ireland’s religious calendar. Now a national holiday, we think St Brigid’s Day is also a great opportunity to celebrate women and their experiences.

On 1st February, to mark the national day of Ireland’s female patron saint, Úna Gan A Gúna will be hosting an evening to celebrate women’s stories, share snippets from the interviews we have deposited in our archive, and imagine an Úna Gan A Gúna interview with St Brigid. So, spend an evening with us at the Irish Cultural Centre in Hammersmith to take a look at the woman behind the saint, hear from ‘St Brigid’, and learn more about uncovering women’s stories in the modern day. 

Find out more and get your (free) tickets here!

Challenging the status quo in a 1970s convent school: Dorothy Duffy’s story

by Annie McAleer

Dorothy was born in 1959, in Ballina Co. Mayo. She left Ireland in 1977, moving to London to train and work as a nurse. Her interview details her experience of the Irish education system during the 1970s, and how she fought back against the social inequalities she witnessed in school.

Throughout the 1960s, Ireland’s economic policy had changed dramatically. While it once favoured protectionist policies and economic nationalism, the 1960s saw the state focus their efforts on securing foreign investment and encouraging industrial growth. Educational reforms were introduced in a bid to not only supply the new workforce, but to also reduce class inequalities in educational attainment[1]. Before 1967, primary school leavers in Ireland could enrol in secondary school providing they passed an entrance exam and could pay tuition fees. Educational reforms saw tuition fees abolished for most schools, and in 1968 the state introduced a means tested grant for university education[2].

These reforms promised a more egalitarian education system, in which a student’s merit, and not their economic background dictated their journey through and beyond school. However, throughout Irelands period of educational expansion, class inequalities continued to shape young students’ school experiences.

In her interview, Dorothy discusses the streaming model which was used in her school to organise students into groups;

‘So we were divided in the secondary school into the A class, the B class and the C class. The A class girls got to do Science and Latin, the Bs everything but­— no Science or Latin, and the Cs, God love them, you know, you just knew that the overall opinion of them was that they wouldn't do anything’.

Dorothy was streamed into the B class and explains in her interview that she enjoyed the company of bright classmates and good teachers. However, she also explains how the streaming model restricted opportunities for many students.

‘Well no, what grated against me was the fact that there was an awful lot of very, very able young women in the B class who should have been learning Latin and biology who could have gone onto university to do medicine, pharmacy whatever and without a biology degree—  a biology A-level equivalent,  they couldn't go.’

The streaming of students during this time, especially into Higher Level Maths, has been linked to socio-economic factors such as parental occupation and family income. Irish students from professional homes were more likely to study maths at higher level in secondary school, in turn affording them greater opportunity to attend university[3].

Dorothy discusses the correlation between family status and school streaming in her interview, explaining;

‘But I do remember there was a kind of discrimination because certainly in the A class as well, you had the girls who were from the nicer type of families, the more professional families, the teachers, the doctors, whatever. So there was a huge ingrained snobbishness about it as well’.

But rather than remain a witness to such injustices, Dorothy openly criticised her school’s discriminatory practices. She notes that participation in inter-school debating was only open to girls from A class and discusses how she organised a petition to challenge this. She then had to write an essay explaining to her teachers why debating should be open to students from the B and C class, and as a result, was put on the team.

‘But it was I suppose my first real taste of injustice and I was damned if I was going to let it happen. So that was quite ballsy of me really’.

Although Dorothy is modest in discussing her success on the debating team, her achievements cannot be understated. She fought for, and represented the ‘bright, able, articulate’ girls from B and C class, in an elitist space which was traditionally inhospitable to many students.

Although Ireland’s education system enjoyed expansion and reform throughout the 1970s, Dorothy’s interview highlights how deeply engrained class inequalities persisted in the school system. However, her interview also shows how through determination and a personal awareness of injustice, Dorothy was able to successfully trouble the established class boundaries of 1970s Ireland.


[1] For detailed discussion on Ireland’s modernisation, see Mary E. Daly’s Sixties Ireland, (Cambridge University Press 2016)

[2] The means tested grant was based on family income. It also required that students obtain 60% or above in four honours level subjects to qualify for financial support. Issues of equal access were raised in the second Seanad Éireann debate on the bill, with Professor Patrick Quinlan noting that students who were at an economic disadvantage had less access to extra tuition, which unfairly affected their ability to meet the grant criteria. https://www.oireachtas.ie/en/debates/debate/seanad/1968-06-19/6/.

[3] Byrne, D., & McCoy, S. (2017). Effectively Maintained Inequality in Educational Transitions in the Republic of Ireland. American Behavioral Scientist, 61(1), 49–73. https://doi.org/10.1177/0002764216682991

Úna Gan a Gúna is now a Registered Charity

By Daisy Roberts

After many months of hard work, we are very excited to share that our application to the Charity Commission has been approved and we are now a registered charity! For this we were required to submit our business plan, constitution and make our case for the charitable purpose of Úna Gan a Gúna and how it is in the public benefit. It is really exciting that the public benefit of the archive has been affirmed and as a registered charity we can now begin fundraising.

Through our participation in the Heritage Compass Business Support Programme, we have been assigned a mentor and fundraising consultant to support us in this process. We are currently formulating our case for support and devising our fundraising needs and objectives. Establishing an income for the project will allow us to recruit and train more volunteers, record more oral histories, and expand the historic record regarding the experiences of women with connections to Ireland.

Since we joined Heritage Compass in January, our volunteers and trustees have attended workshops on audience development and governance and are signed up to participate in further fundraising and business planning training. As always, if you would like to get involved as a volunteer or an interviewee, please do get in touch!

Úna Gan a Gúna joins Heritage Compass

By Daisy Roberts

2022 has started very positively for Úna Gan a Gúna as the collective has secured a place on the Heritage Compass Business Support Programme. Operated by Cause4, a social enterprise that specialises in providing support to charities, and funded by the National Lottery, Heritage Compass is a programme designed to support and grow heritage organisations.

We are very excited to be involved as the programme offers us access to lots of great information and expertise regarding audience engagement, fundraising and financial management, business planning and governance. We will also have access to mentorship and networking opportunities. 

As an entirely volunteer-run community project, still in the process of applying for registered charity status, we are especially appreciative of the opportunity to receive expert financial, fundraising and business planning advice to help ensure the viability and resilience of the project. Better funding will allow us to support more volunteers, carry out more interviews and achieve greater public engagement with the project and the experiences of a diverse and inclusive array of Irish women. 

The first training workshop will take place next month and focuses on audience development, engagement, and expansion. We look forward to keeping you up to date with our progress! 

Volunteering for Úna Gan a Gúna

By Stephanie Blythman

I first heard of Úna Gan a Gúna in 2019 through a post shared on the Irish in Britain page on Facebook. As a theatre historian, particularly one who also works in theatre and film, I have long been interested in the power and importance of storytelling. I am also incredibly lucky to come from a family who, on both sides, take an interest in looking into and passing down stories about our family history. Knowing who I am and where I come from is something I often took for granted when I was younger but, as I have gotten older and found myself becoming ever more deeply involved in studying history, I have become increasingly aware of just how easy it is for ordinary people’s stories to be lost and how often that happens. 

I got in contact and began talking to Ruth Beecher about the possibility of getting involved soon after seeing that post, but between work commitments and a pandemic it was not until the spring of this year that I was able to properly begin volunteering. Since then I have gotten involved by assisting with interview transcription and helping with trying to grow the social media account, as well as being interviewed myself.

One of the things I like most about the project is that it is not just about gathering and documenting Irish women’s stories but also about encouraging conversation between mothers and daughters, grandmothers and granddaughters, aunts and nieces, as the interviews are often carried out between family members which allows a different interview dynamic to develop than might otherwise. It is fascinating to hear how different people’s interviews can be from each other, and what topics they find themselves dwelling on over the course of the conversation. 

Ireland has come a long way since the 1930s, which is our starting point for gathering memories, particularly in the last thirty years over the course of the Celtic Tiger boom period through the economic recession following the 2008 crisis. I am really looking forward to seeing how Úna Gan a Gúna grows and expands its reach to find ever more diverse voices, and what those testimonies can tell us about the lived experience of Irish women over the past century.

Six Months of Volunteering

By Daisy Roberts

I started volunteering for Una Gan a Guna in March 2021 after attending a (virtual) lecture on oral history interviewing skills delivered by Ruth Beecher, the Project Lead. Ruth’s lecture emphasised the importance of oral history as a means for capturing and recording the experiences of people who have not always been included in histories of wars, politics, and leaders, such as the working classes, women and people of colour. She also highlighted how oral history projects allow interviewers to capture the stories of their own communities, cultures and families, as Una Gan A Guna does. As a history student, I’m very invested in contributing to a historical record that values and includes the histories of every community and as such was very excited to get involved. 

Not having a familial connection to Ireland myself, I have primarily been involved in the project from an administrative angle and I have gained a lot of useful experience working on transcripts, producing interview summaries and completing catalogue documentation prior to interviews being submitted to the archive. I have also worked on administrative documents such as the Style Guide for Transcribing, which aims to help other volunteers produce consistent and accurate interview transcripts, and the Una Gan A Guna Business Plan, which has allowed me to gain insight into the project’s short, medium, and long-term goals and plans for achieving them. 

Most challenging, due to my limited technological know-how, has been working on developing the website to include more information about the project, how to get involved and to share snippets of the histories of the women already interviewed. I have enjoyed getting to grips with managing content via Squarespace and have found working with the stories and images of women who have participated in the project incredibly interesting. As the project focuses on the lives of Irish women between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, it provides an often very detailed snapshot into someone’s life at an incredibly formative stage as well as an idea of how the world at the time shaped their experiences. Many of the interviews are also completed by family members of the subjects, so it is really captivating to hear daughters, granddaughters, sisters or nieces hear the full version of stories they might have heard extracts of throughout their lives and get to relate to their family member in a new way or on a different level. 

When We Feel Cut Off, Sharing Our Stories is Even More Important

When We Feel Cut Off, Sharing Our Stories is Even More Important

This year, us Irish women in the UK find ourselves stuck. The Irish Sea has become a barrier we can only cross in emergencies, a state of cut-off-ness that was unimaginable little more than a year ago. I struggle to catch up with this new reality, one of many new realities we have encountered this year. Since 1989, I have ricocheted by car, ferry, and plane backwards and forwards from London to Cork to see friends and family. I now see just how privileged as I was to have those choices.