A poem based on the true story of my mother’s life.   The poem explores issues surrounding mental health and the impact of being raised in the harsh world of industrial schools in the 1960s.  The repetitive use of her Christian name is deliberate and refers to the fact that on entering these schools, children would often be stripped of their names and assigned a number in it’s place. 
Some people may find the contents disturbing, if you think this might include you, please skip past. 

My name is Anne

My name is Anne
Aged just five when my father died
I was one of 14 children
When daddy died
My mummy cried

She cried so hard
I thought that she might die
I think she did
Because one day she was gone

I woke up from my stony bed
And I couldn’t find her anywhere
I couldn’t hear her favourite song
We looked and looked
All day long

I couldn’t say how much time had passed
Before the guards came for us
I do know I was hungry
I remember being scared
I knew that no one cared

My name is Anne 
And I don’t know where my mummy is
My daddy died 
I think mummy may have followed him
I don’t want to get into your van!

Mummy took the baby
So why did she leave me?
We have no food and I am very hungry 
My name is Anne 
I think that I am five years old

My name is Anne 
I am five years old
They took me to the court room
In the van
They found me guilty 
Said it was a crime
To live in poverty
They sent me to a new home
Where I was met by gloom
I was only five years old

My name is Anne 
I am 16 years old
I have been here since I was five
It’s not nice
I don’t like it here
I’ve heard of some girls being sold

My name is Anne 
I am 21
They sent me to my new home
It’s big and dark
They make me work too hard

I don’t know where the others are
We are not allowed to speak
I know that my big sister died
They said she was too weak

My name is Anne
I am 26 years old
They locked me out
So now I have a new home 
I live in England now

I am pregnant
I can’t go home
It’s no place for a single lass
Like me
I am pregnant
But I did not make my vows

My name is Anne
My baby has gone
I am locked into my brand new home
They drug me and give me electric shocks
I don’t like it here
I am scared
Something is wrong 

My name is Anne
I have two children now
But I don’t ever see them
I have returned to my first home
I never speak about the kids
I think they were taken 
In a prison van

My new home is not nice
They do not let me out
They drug me and give me more
Electric shocks while I am shackled
In a vice

My name is Anne
I am 65
My new home is much nicer
They still drug me
But they have abandoned
The electric shocks
I get baths now
But I don’t like the ice

My name was Anne
I was 67 when I died
I’ve not seen my children
More than once or twice
I think they must be grown

My name was Anne
When I died
I was all alone. 
Clare Kinnaird, 2024. 

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Industrial_school_(Ireland)

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