Residents fight to save Melnea Cass Boulevard trees

Environment

Yvonne Lalyre drank her first cup of linden tea in Frankfurt Germany in the spring of 1981.

But it wasn’t until she moved to Greenwich Street in Roxbury five years later that she realized how the medicinal brew was made.

“We have lots of lindens,” said Lalyre, a retired Boston Public School employee originally from Panama. “You can make tea out of the flowers, they have fragrant flowers.”

Lalyre has lived beside Melnea Cass Boulevard for more than 30 years and, of all the trees that line the major traffic route, the 130-foot linden trees are her favorite. “In June you can look around and they are wonderful, it smells so beautiful around here,” said Lalyre.

Zara Zsido moved to Windsor Street, parallel to Melnea Cass Boulevard, in 2009. “These trees are a buffer, a buffer for sounds and a buffer for cooling,” she said. “They make the neighborhood livable.”

They’re not just good for shade, scent and herbal tea. These trees, and the hundreds of others that line the boulevard, help manage noise and pollution.

Roxbury is a heat island, experiencing much higher temperatures during the summer than in leafier, greener parts of Boston. On average 32,000 vehicles use the corridor daily, spewing global-warming gases into the air that help raise the mercury in a largely Black, low-income neighborhood with few natural resources to alleviate soaring temperatures.

“It’s an environmental justice neighborhood,” said David Meshoulam, executive director and co-founder of Speak for the Trees, an organization working to protect trees in city neighborhoods impacted by global warming and climate change. “These trees help mitigate against harm by cleaning and cooling the air, providing respite, and creating a sense of belonging and community.”

Despite these benefits, the City is planning to remove more than 100 mature trees along Melnea Cass in order to reconstruct the corridor, add new bicycle lanes and improve safety, according to plans approved in 2018 which received funding this March.

An out-of-state contractor — Newport Construction — has been chosen for the project and construction is set to start this fall.

But Roxbury residents are fighting back.

Yvonne Lalyre stands-out on Melnea Cass Boulevard to protest the City’s plans to remove the trees. Photo by Cat McGloin.

“When they approved the contract we thought ‘Oh my god they can come any moment and start cutting the trees,’” said Lalyre. “So we asked [the City] and they didn’t answer and I said ‘Well we’re going to have to start doing something otherwise they’re just going to come and cut the trees without us knowing.’”

Taking action

Four weeks ago, Lalyre wrapped strips of fabric around the at-risk trees. “I put the bands on the trees for people to see,” said Lalyre. “I got my neighbors to give me their old bedsheets and I stripped them.”

Lalyre — who stands at the intersection of Melnea Cass and Tremont Street protesting the City’s plans every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. — and other neighbors are calling for a public hearing on the removal of these trees. They say attempts at community engagement stopped once project funding was secured and the pandemic shutdown has made communication between city officials, planners and residents more difficult.

Besides stand-outs, a petition demanding a public hearing, started by the Friends of Melnea Cass Boulevard Association, has received 4,490 signatures so far.

“Our organizations include local residents concerned about this project and the impact the loss of trees will have on air quality, ambient temperature, and livability in this neighborhood, part of a designated severe heat island in Boston’s Climate Ready Boston Final Report from 2016,” says the petition.

The Conservation Law Foundation is supporting residents and sent a letter to the Boston Parks and Recreation Department Commissioner Ryan Woods, and Corporation Counsel Eugene O’Flaherty August 6, detailing the case for a public hearing to be held.

The letter states, “The City of Boston, specifically the tree warden, failed to hold a public hearing on the removal of the trees as required by law … We respectfully request that you correct this violation and hold a public hearing to discuss the removal of existing shade trees before the Project commences construction this fall.”

According to the letter, Public Shade Tree Law requires “public shade trees shall not be cut, trimmed or removed, in whole or in part, by any person other than the tree warden or his deputy . . .  except upon a permit in writing from said tree warden, nor shall they be cut down or removed by the tree warden or his deputy or other person without a public hearing.” 

Because no permit has been granted and the project will not widen the existing boulevard, lawyers from the foundation believe the Public Shade Tree Law applies and a hearing must be granted. 

In response to the letter, a spokesperson from the mayor’s office said “While the City of Boston received the letter from the Conservation Law Foundation [August 13], preserving green space and environmental concerns have been at the forefront of this years-long process. The City looks forward to working with all stakeholders as we continue our work to equitably improve Melnea Cass Boulevard for all residents.”

Canopy under-construction 

The street redesign has been under discussion since 2011. This latest plan is set to cost $25 million, 80% from federal funds and 20% from the state.

“As part of a comprehensive multi-year community process, the Melnea Cass Boulevard project will reconstruct this corridor, creating a more pedestrian-friendly, neighborhood street, enhancing its bike facilities, improving its stormwater resilience and increasing the safety of everyone who uses this street,” said a spokesperson from the mayor’s office in an email.

Aside from adding new bike lanes and water drainage systems, project plans promise new trees to replace those removed and accidentally damaged. But the number of new trees “is a moving target” said Zsido. Besides, new trees will take time to grow.  

“There’s no such thing as a net tree gain,” said Zsido. Trees destroyed now will take 40 or more years before they are able to offer the same environmental benefits as those already lining the corridor, said Zsido. “It’s loss all down the line.”

On the City’s claims that the project will increase safety for both pedestrians and cyclists, Lavette Coney, president of the Mount Pleasant, Forest and Vine Neighborhood Association  said “that’s just a rouse so that they can just do what they want.”

According to documents, City officials have advertised the project and public information meetings in local newspapers. There have been several meetings between City planners and members of the Friends of Melnea Cass Boulevard.

“Those meetings may work in a community like Brookline where a lot of people can afford to go to meetings,” said Lalyre, who believes many residents are unaware of what is happening and can’t attend meetings because they are working.

Even before COVID-19 presented its own unique challenges in hosting public forums, Lalyre said the City’s methods at community engagement were not suited to residents. “There hasn’t been really the involvement of the community because the process is not adapted to our needs to involve the community” she said. Door-knocking might be the most suitable way to reach everyone, she said, but during the pandemic phone calls would do.

Since the shutdown in March, days after project funding was approved, residents said they have heard nothing and letters of protest have not been received or acknowledged. 

“We just want community process, we just want to be involved they can’t make decisions for us,” said Coney.

“They couldn’t do this in Beacon Hill. They couldn’t get away with this in that neighborhood,” said Zsido. “Those trees are meant to put the neighborhood back together. I’m not sure if the City doesn’t know the history or isn’t aware of the history of the neighborhood.”

Historical trauma

In the 1960s, much of Roxbury was razed as part of the Massachusetts Department of Public Works Inner Belt Highway Project (I-695). Residents successfully fought back against plans to displace residents and destroy the community’s green spaces, and the plan was cancelled in 1971, although some sections of Lower Roxbury had already been cleared for the project.

“The historical trauma of having your neighborhood erased like that,” said Zsido, “that trauma is generational.”

Construction of the corridor continued and was named in honor of the Boston civil rights leader Melnea Cass, the “First Lady of Roxbury.” The 600 trees that line Melnea Cass Boulevard were planted in an “effort to put neighborhoods back together after the devastation caused in the 1960’s by clearance for I-95 and the Inner Belt…. The trees were part and parcel of making amends for the destructive auto-centric thinking of the past,” said Kenneth Kruckemeyer, former commissioner of the Massachusetts Department of Public Works and founding member of WalkBoston and the Livable Streets Alliance. “It is sad that current City and state administrations have forgotten that promise.”

But residents aren’t ready to let the City forget easily and many believe now is the time their voices will be heard.

While protests against racial injustice and police brutality continue across the nation, advocates like Kruckemeyer are optimistic that the City will choose this moment to support a predominately Black neighborhood in their fight for environmental justice. “It is my hope that the Black Lives Matter movement is making developers, institutions and the City aware, perhaps for the first time, of the devastation they have wrought, and of their responsibility, at least, to stop the destruction and perhaps, more hopefully, to lead the City of Boston and its institutions to become an equitable beacon for all,” he said in an email.

And if the City is looking for more design input, residents have ideas of their own on how best to improve the area. Make the area a greenway, add fountains, put solar panels in the car lots and let the community use the energy: these are just some ideas Lalyre proposed.

A driver stopped at the lights asks Lalyre how to let the City know she wants the trees to stay. Photo by Cat McGloin.

Her morning shift at the stand-out almost over, Lalyre digs into her backpack to retrieve a small square box. “I have a present for you,” she says, “I have these to give away.” She hands out McCormick’s linden tea bags to fellow protestors and passersby.

One woman stopped as she crossed the street. “Alright I want to save the trees,” she said. “I didn’t know this was going on. Everything’s going crazy here, why cut the tree down?” 

“Because they want to spend $25 million of federal funds on construction,” said Lalyre.

“Well they need to give it to the people suffering from this pandemic,” said the woman, wanting to know how she can stop the trees from being destroyed.

Lalyre shouted over the morning traffic and through her face mask. “Call 331 and say ‘We can’t afford to lose a single tree on Melnea Cass, it’s an environment justice issue,” she said. “This is Roxbury, we’re tree poor, we need every tree we can get.”

Courtesy dublincity.ie

Would pedestrianizing Centre Street help JP businesses recover from COVID-19?

Business, Ideas

Drivers parallel parking causes others to swerve into oncoming traffic. Cyclists weave between delivery trucks and rideshare vehicles. Buses collect passengers as fire trucks pull out of the station, lights on, sirens wailing. Add shoppers, dog walkers and children to the mix and Centre Street in Jamaica Plain can be chaotic, even during a shutdown.

But renewed discussions about making the major thoroughfare more pedestrian-friendly, in neighborhood council meetings and local online discussion boards, are more than appeals for calm and less congestion.

They are about helping local businesses survive COVID-19.

Pilot pedestrianization programs in the U.S. and Europe might provide a blueprint for what cutting traffic to Centre Street might look like, and if such a measure would actually help businesses, while Jamaica Plain locals have reimagined the corridor along Centre Street and South Street many times over the years.

The most dramatic option tabled has been to close the road off to all traffic.

“We’ve floated this idea a few times,” said Ginger Brown, executive director for JP Centre/South Main Streets, in an email. But, she said, the proposal has always seemed “difficult.”

“It’s important to keep in mind that the buses that go through Centre and South Street are a lifeline for many in our community and their unimpeded routes are extremely important,” said Brown. She also noted that the only other parallel two-way street in the area is the the Arborway, along which buses are not permitted.

The 39 and 41 buses run along Centre Street and provide important access for residents in Forrest Hills and beyond to the city center.

“It would be virtually impossible to shut down Centre Street to traffic due to the major bus routes that use it,” said Audrey White, owner of Carrot Flower, a plant-based cafe on Centre Street, in an email. She said the idea hasn’t been discussed at recent Jamaica Plain Business and Professional Association meetings, but that she would be open to reviewing specific plans to pedestrianize the area if any were brought forward.

Then there are the emergency vehicles that rely on Centre Street for direct access through Jamaica Plain to nearby medical facilities, including Lemuel Shattuck Hospital and the Hebrew Rehabilitation Center, as well as Engine 28 Ladder 10 fire station at 746 Centre Street. 

For the numerous ambulances, fire engines and police cars passing along Centre Street daily “there are no adequate alternative routes,” said Brown. “The other one-way and circuitous streets of JP would be a major impediment to their operation.”

Rerouting regular traffic is also another hurdle regularly cited. Pushing cars onto the narrow, one-way streets that surround Centre and South Street may only cause further congestion and chaos.

But in other cities, not too far from home, officials have found solutions and made pedestrian commercial districts work during the pandemic. 

Waltham’s Traffic Commission has approved the temporary closure of Moody Street and the area will remain pedestrianized until November 1, while in Portland, Maine, a pilot program to close several streets started June 1 and the space is now being used by an open-air market, local restaurants and stores.

It’s unclear if organizers of these pilot programs dealt with the same issues — public transport routes and emergency vehicle access — as those of in JP would face. And it may even be too early to tell how successful these programs are. 

But early data from a trial in Dublin, Ireland, show positive results for local businesses.

In the city’s busy Grafton Street area sections were closed to all vehicles between 11 a.m. and 11 p.m. on weekends and during bank holidays. A survey of 292 businesses from the experiment’s first weekend showed owners enjoyed increased takings of between 40% and 100%.

Grafton Street, Dublin, Ireland. Photo courtesy of dublincity.ie

This trend will hopefully continue over the coming weekends, but some business owners are skeptical that such a plan would benefit Jamaica Plain’s businesses.

“I don’t think it would necessarily bring more business to the district, at least not enough to warrant the major disruption,” said White.

If a complete closure is untenable, then an alternative solution could be to remove parking spaces to accommodate more outside dining and retail.

“I am in favor of widening sidewalks, and having temporary pedestrian lanes in lieu of parallel parking while we weather this pandemic,” said Brown.

“Sidewalk seating is usually easier in Jamaica Plain using parking spaces rather than sidewalk space,” wrote Michael Reiskind in the Jamaica Plain Neighborhood Council June meeting minutes. “It’s a question residents have long been asking, and it’s come up again as businesses are starting to slowly reopen after the COVID-19 shutdown.”

But there are concerns about removing parking spaces, particularly from disability advocates. Reducing parking may make an area more inaccessible for those who cannot take public transport, need their cars to travel safely or who must park directly outside their destination.

In the Dublin trial disabled parking spaces were relocated nearby to accommodate the closures. 

Removing parking, while still allowing access for public transport and emergency vehicles, is a feasible solution that could help businesses recover from the financial damage wrought by COVID-19, said Brown.

“This can be done without changing the bus routes or the flow of traffic on Centre and South Street,” said Brown. “It requires giving up some parking but I think that’s a sacrifice that we can easily make.”

St. Patrick's Day Parade 2019. Photo: Catherine McGloin

Irish America is marching into the 21st century and Boston’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade can’t keep up

Society

Swaying lines of revelers rapidly build outside the pubs and bars along East Broadway in South Boston.

A police officer forces a young man to pour his bottle of vodka, secretly stashed but unsubtly swigged from, into the gutter on C Street. 

A girl crouches to pee beside a curbside skip on Athens Street, while her friends laugh and strangers stop to take selfies with her.

No it’s not a typical Saturday night in Southie. It’s midday, Sunday March 17, the most hallowed of all drinking holidays, St. Patrick’s Day.

One million people in various shades of green and states of inebriation lined the 3.5-mile route of the South Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade, organized annually by the South Boston Allied War Veterans Council to honor St. Patrick and members of the U.S. military. And this year, for the first time, I donned my Irish rugby jersey and joined the scrum, opting for coffee over pre-breakfast cocktails.  

I’ve been in Boston for almost two years. I’ve been Irish all my life. The grandchild of first-generation Irish immigrants who left their beloved republic for North West London more than 50 years ago, I understand the anguish of clutching at cultural symbols while adrift from your ancestral homeland.

I expected there to be traditional music and dancing. I expected shamrock face-paintings and leprechaun hats. I expected a lot drinking. What I didn’t expect was for it to feel so alien. Yes, there were bagpipers and tricolor flags, but where was the enterprising European nation I know?

Anyone who has witnessed this annual day of Celtic carnage can’t truly believe that all the paddywhackery accurately reflects the Boston Irish community in 2019. But, as Amazon employees fired plastic shamrock necklaces into the crowds of families and day-drinkers, I wondered what the truth was behind all of the commercial nonsense. Does the modern, progressive and proud Irish culture I’d grown up with exist in Boston?

It does, but from the sidewalks of Broadway you’d never know it. The clichés about Irish culture annually promoted in the parade are particularly offensive, not only because they are inaccurate but because they mask the important evolution of the Irish American identity in Boston over the last few decades.

“Drinking is a big part of Irish culture,” says Sorcha Rochford, this year’s Boston and New England Rose of Tralee, an award presented to women who best represent Irish communities in the diaspora. Rochford, who was born in County Kerry in the southwest of Ireland and raised in London, moved to Boston as a Suffolk University student. That Sunday she marched in the parade alongside Mayor Martin Walsh, Gov. Charlie Baker and Boston Police Commissioner William Gross. “People latch on to something they have commonality with,” says Rochford. “It’s harder to have a conversation about Irish literature and history than it is to have a drink with someone.”

St. Patrick's Day Parade 2019. Mayor Martin Walsh and Police Commissioner William Gross were among the marchers. Photo: Catherine McGloin

St. Patrick’s Day Parade 2019. Mayor Martin Walsh and Police Commissioner William Gross were among the marchers. Photo: Catherine McGloin

Not far behind them was retired mixed-martial arts fighter Conor McGregor. Driven in an SUV emblazoned with his whiskey company’s logo, he landed hits on two stereotypes, the fighting Irish and the ones that love a drink.

As with any ethnic group, stereotypes do not reflect reality. From escaping famine, to building Boston’s national political prominence, through an era of racial conflict in the 1970s, the Boston Irish identity continues to be redefined as immigration patterns and the city’s demographics shift.

In 1990, almost 44 million Americans nationwide considered themselves of Irish descent, but by 2015 this figure dropped to 36 million. The dip is, in part, caused by slowing immigration from Ireland to the United States. During the 1990s and the early 2000s the Irish economy, or the Celtic Tiger, grew rapidly, bringing jobs and fewer financial incentives to emigrate. In 1994, almost 17,000 people moved from Ireland to the U.S., yet in the years since this number hasn’t hit 2,000, according to Department of Homeland Security statistics. Massachusetts and New Hampshire remain the only two states where more than 20 percent of residents claim Irish ancestry.

Fewer first-generation Irish immigrants means genealogical bonds between Ireland and Irish America are weakened. But thankfully, those born in Boston are infusing their Irish heritage with their experiences of living in a minority-majority city. While it still might not be as forward-thinking as Ireland itself, particularly on issues such as LGBTQ rights, Irish America is diversifying and, albeit slowly, becoming a lot more progressive than the picture painted by parade organizers.

Irish America is still perceived as “very white, Catholic and male,” says Trina Vargo, founder of the U.S.-Ireland Alliance, who served as Sen. Edward Kennedy’s foreign policy adviser and was involved in the Northern Ireland peace process in the 1990s. “All these things are fine,” she says, “but we’re trying to build for the next generation.”

——

The first Irish immigrants sailed to Massachusetts in the 18th century. They were white men and women, but they weren’t Catholic. They were Ulster Protestants escaping religious persecution and seeking economic prosperity. The Catholics arrived about a hundred years later, flooding New England during the Great Famine of 1845 to 1849. They brought with them distinct religious and cultural traits. These would be molded and recast over the coming years by certain events and through their pursuit of the American Dream.

After years of discrimination and anti-Catholic bigotry, Irish Catholics came to dominate political life in Boston. A few highlights from the annals: the election of Boston’s first American-born Irish Catholic mayor, John F. “Honey Fitz” Fitzgerald, in 1905, grandfather of President John F. Kennedy; the infamous James M. Curley, who served four terms as mayor, one from prison; and Walsh’s election in 2017, the first Irish American mayor whose mother tongue is not English but Gaelic.

The Troubles in Northern Ireland, from the late 1960s up until the signing of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, also helped shape the Irish American identity. Many members in the community in Boston supported the Irish Republican Army by raising money and running guns out of Boston Harbor. Much has been made of Boston’s IRA connection, but Kevin Cullen, Boston Globe columnist and the newspaper’s former bureau chief in Dublin and London, says this has been overblown.

“The IRA supporters in this area were real bigmouths, so you get the impression there were more of them,” says Cullen, who lived with his wife in South Boston in the 1980s. He says that South Boston was actually a more moderate place and that the influence of the Boston Irish on the Republican movement in Ireland has been exaggerated.

For Bill Forry, second-generation Irish American and editor of both the Dorchester Reporter and the Boston Irish Reporter, the Troubles in Ireland were a present but distant problem. “It wasn’t a front row seat, it was kind of in the distance for us,” he says. Born to Ed and Mary Forry, from the Republic of Ireland, Bill Forry says, “As an Irish American person in Boston we had great sympathy for the Catholic Republican cause and that kind of permeated throughout the community in different ways.”

The second half of the 20th century also heralded a cultural reawakening for Irish Americans in Boston. Assimilation had been the best survival tactic when they first arrived, but as their political and economic power grew, the Boston Irish began to rediscover their heritage.

“There was a tipping point in the ’60s and ’70s where … Irish people started getting more interested in finding out their own roots, in finding out their own lineage,” Forry says. This interest, he adds, was inspired by other groups, like the African American community, who were also redefining their identity at this time and throughout the civil rights movement.

The two communities, however, clashed during Boston’s busing crisis during the 1970s. Forced to finally desegregate schools by federal judge W. Arthur Garrity Jr., children were bused between white and black areas of the city. South Boston High School was the site of racial attacks and the image of angry, white Irish Americans flinging rocks at school buses remains a stain on the community’s most recent history.

For the Boston Irish not involved in the riots, it was still an unsettling time to live in Southie. “There was a lot of racism in the communities, and it really got bad during the busing crisis,” says Cullen. “That really pushed people into corners both black and white, and it was really ugly.” But, he says he never heard a racial slur in his own household, and he knew many Irish Americans who supported the civil rights movement. “I don’t know how any Irish person who knows their history in this country could be a bigot I don’t fucking get it,” says Cullen. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Most recent clashes have been with members of the LGBTQ community. Barred from participating in the St. Patrick’s Day parade in the early 1990s by organizers and leader John “Wacko” Hurley, a Supreme Court ruling upheld this ban in 1995, stating that because the parade was a private event organizers could prohibit anyone they wanted from marching. Organizers eventually voted to allow LGBTQ groups to march in 2014, only for the ban to be reinstated in 2017. Community outrage forced organizers to concede, and this year Bryan Bishop, a gay veteran and founder of OutVets, helped organize the parade and LGBTQ groups were, once again, invited to march.

Raised in the Boston Irish community, Bill Forry has witnessed the evolution of this group’s collective identity. In many ways, he and his wife, former state senator Linda Dorcena Forry, and their young Haitian-Irish-American family, represent the future for Irish America.

“I think there has been a dramatic shift in attitude over my lifespan,” says Bill Forry. “Anybody who has been here long enough sees it just walking through the streets … I’ve seen things shift, and there’s a lot of examples of that, from LGBTQ to the way people view themselves in the context of other races in the city, and just in terms of how you view Ireland.” He says his ethnicity is not what defines him. He is an American who celebrates his family’s cultural diversity and sees this reflected in the melange of the wider Boston Irish community.

“The nature of any city is that it’s always changing … that’s all just part of a continuum that’s natural,” says Forry. “People have had the opportunity to have real life experiences with other people who aren’t like them, and that’s what should happen in the city.”

——

We’re not yet at the fast end of this continuum. Stereotypes die slowly, but there are ways we can speed up the destruction of old tropes about Irish America.

The first step is simply to recognize it isn’t a monolith. “There isn’t a specific kind of Irish American,” says Vargo, and within this community groups sit at various points along political, social and cultural spectrums. Conservative views are still held within the community but Vargo says, “a lot of the old style Irish America stuff is generational and it’s dying away.”

Rather than wait for the wake, those in a hurry to modernize the Boston Irish identity are engaging people in the progress happening back in Ireland.

“Obviously Ireland is changing,” says Bob Mauro, director of Boston College’s Irish Institute. Farming has been replaced by FinTech startups and Ireland, with support from the European Union, has embraced many forward-thinking policies. Ireland introduced a single-use plastic bag ban in 2002, while it took Boston until 2018 to follow suit. The Gardaí, the Irish police, recently said they would allow hijabs and turbans to become part of officers’ uniforms. While the Boston Police Department has attempted to improve its diversity, the majority of the workforce, are still white (64 percent) men (73 percent).

But “Irish America is changing too,” Mauro adds.

Mauro praises the work of the Irish International Immigration Center in downtown Boston. The IIIC supports immigrants not just from Ireland but from more than 120 countries, providing legal services as well as mental health support. They host cultural exchange events and storytelling sessions to encourage cross-cultural community building in Boston. Their work, Mauro says, is truly representative of a younger, more inclusive Irish America, and their participation in the 2019 parade is noteworthy.

“It’s important for the Irish community here in Boston that change continues,” Mauro says. For him and those at the institute, this means strengthening the transatlantic relationship between Ireland and Irish America, through educational exchanges and business partnerships. He says universities, the Boston Irish community and the Irish government have an important role to play in providing these platforms for communication.

Vargo, former adviser on Irish issues to President Barack Obama, also says the Irish government could do more to encourage a new relationship between Ireland and the U.S. Despite the progress, bigotry still persists in some diminishing corners of the Irish American community, and Vargo says that the Irish government should more vehemently disavow this behavior. “The Irish government shouldn’t participate in an America that’s out of touch,” she says. One way to denounce stubborn prejudices would be to stop sending diplomats to men-only events, such as the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick’s anniversary dinner in New York held in March. Vargo told Irish Prime Minister Leo Varadkar as much in an email last November, writing “it’s time to drag Irish America into the 21st century.”

Bill Forry advises simply ignoring the stereotype. “Our strategy is we don’t dwell on that negativity, and we try to give a steady drumbeat of what’s actually happening,” he says. Immigration, particularly the status of undocumented Irish immigrants in the U.S., remains one of the community’s biggest concerns, Forry says. The other is Brexit. As the future of the Irish border between the north and the south remains uncertain, Forry says, “I don’t think there will be this descent into real sectarian violence again … I think there’s enough of a foundation of pretty well informed and well-meaning people who won’t allow that to happen and Boston is one of the places that will be an important anchor of that.”

——

The faintest sign of sectarianism in South Boston is in the faded paint flecks of the pro-IRA mural on the side of Al’s Bottled Liquors on St. Casimir Street. Proclaiming “Ireland Unfree Will Never Be at Peace,” the painting from a bygone era is wholly anachronistic, here and in Ireland. Below these words is an image of the U.K. wrapped in a Union Jack, the tricolor flag flying beside it. No one paid it any attention as they watched parade floats go by.

This year’s St. Patrick’s Day shenanigans were also relatively peaceful. Boston police officers issued 244 citations for drinking in public and made just eight arrests, mostly for disorderly conduct. I have no idea if the vodka smuggler or the skip squatter is included in those numbers.

St. Patrick's Day Parade 2019. Photo: Catherine McGloin

St. Patrick’s Day Parade 2019. Photo: Catherine McGloin

What I do know now, having seen it for myself, is that the parade, although more inclusive than in recent years, is still “a weird leftover of Irish America,” as Vargo calls it. It does nothing to help promote a modern Boston Irish identity, and it belies the progress this community has made in refining itself over several decades.

That doesn’t mean it has no purpose — for the bars and restaurants that sponsor it the parade is a lucrative pot of gold.

But Irish America is about more than one boozy Sunday. Like other ethnic groups in the city, the Boston Irish are a culturally diverse, one that defies stereotyping. But you’d never know that if the parade, with its tired tropes, is the only picture of the Irish community you see.

A new generation of immigrants and American-born Irish is reshaping the community’s cultural identity, bringing it in line with the reality of a modern Ireland and a modern Boston. But this is a long process that needs to be supported by closer ties to Ireland, better funding and a recognition that this community is as complex as any other in the city.

“It’s never shades of orange and green when it comes to Irish things,” says the Globe’s Kevin Cullen. “It’s always shades of gray.”