Through the Looking Glass: What Dublin Taught Me About Leadership
It was time for this country mouse to head to Dublin. I didn’t sleep that well the night before – too excited. I had three days ahead of me, full of new connections, conversations and experiences.
The Leadership Collective is a programme created to strengthen community impact in the North West by supporting emerging leaders to think big, act boldly, and lead with purpose. The three-day visit came at the right time. Things feel heavy at home – politically, economically, socially. This wasn’t just about seeing another place. It was about seeing another way.
We began at University College Dublin, where we met Dr Kieran Harrahill for a session on co-creating sustainable and shared mobility futures. What stood out wasn’t the policy jargon, but the message: change works best when people are brought with you. When communities are partners, not passengers. That set the tone for everything that followed.
Later that afternoon we headed into Temple Bar, and I genuinely felt like I was on holiday. The bunting, the colourful buildings, the horse and carriages, the streets buzzing with live music and tourists – it was culture overload in the best way. We heard languages from all over the world in just one ten-minute walk. It was joyful. From there, we made our way to our next meeting at The Wheel – a sister organisation to NICVA in the South. They’re Ireland’s national association of community and voluntary organisations, charities, and social enterprises. They offer training, resources and support to their members across the sector. Much of the discussion focused on building skills for the labour market and creating a thriving, resilient sector. It was a truly engaging and positive meeting, and it provided us with valuable resources to take forward into our collective work. And again – this is what it’s all about: best practice, collaboration, and connection. Not silo working.
On the second day, I awoke to a beautifully sunny day, and Dublin was already wide awake – the Luas roared past my window, followed closely by a flock of noisy seagulls heading for the Liffey for breakfast, I guess. We walked through the Smithfield area toward the river, crossing the bridge to head to our first meeting near St Stephen’s Green at the Office of the Taoiseach to learn about the Shared Island Initiative. As we strolled through the historic streets and past the beautiful Trinity College, the city’s blend of old and new felt alive, steeped in history, yet pushing forward with purpose.
We arrived at the Office of the Taoiseach, a beautiful pillared building with a fountain that looked especially striking in the morning sun – the kind of place that quietly carries a sense of significance.
We met with the team behind the Shared Island Initiative and heard how, since 2020, they’ve committed over €500 million to strategic cross-border projects – from women’s enterprise and educational underachievement to tourism development and major infrastructure like the Narrow Water Bridge. What’s impressive isn’t just the scale – it’s the clarity of purpose: building a shared future on this island for everyone, regardless of tradition or geography.
We then popped across the city to Iveagh House – another grand building, full of sweeping staircases and chandeliers. We sat down for a working lunch with the Department of Foreign Affairs, where we heard about the Reconciliation Fund – over €65 million invested in more than 3,000 cross-border and community projects. It’s not glamorous, but it’s the kind of slow, steady work that builds real trust. That kind of work rarely makes headlines, but it changes lives.
After beating the afternoon nap urge, we skipped across the city on the Luas towards Croke Park.
Croke Park is the principal national stadium of Ireland and the headquarters of the GAA. With a capacity of 82,300, it’s the third-largest stadium in Europe. For me, this visit was personal. My late father was from Thurles, County Tipperary, the birthplace of the GAA. I’ve always felt a quiet pride in that connection, but being there brought it to life. Our tour guide was young, full of charm and stories, and had us laughing about curses on county teams and how players mentally prepare. Then we walked out onto the pitch.
I’ve never felt so small.
We sat down in the Hogan Stand, where our guide started to tell us about what happened on that pitch over a century ago – Bloody Sunday. Fourteen people were shot dead, including Michael Hogan, a Tipperary footballer after whom the stand is named. More than sixty others were injured. That moment stayed with me. Not because it was about blame or sides, but because it was a reminder of how fragile peace and stability can be – and how important it is to lead with empathy, courage and memory.
The next day – our last day – I woke up to the smell of rain on hot tarmac. It was so fresh, and Dublin still managed to look beautiful even though it was raining heavily. We had breakfast for the last time together in a local café that also happens to be a social enterprise. It’s called Third Space, and I can hand on heart say they do the best poached eggs – perfect every single time.
After breakfast, we jumped in an Uber and made our way to Pavee Point – a human rights group working with Irish Travellers and Roma communities. Given the racist disturbances happening in Ballymena at the time of our visit, it was really interesting to hear from Alex, who is Roma. He explained that Roma constitute the largest minority ethnic group in the EU, with 10–12 million Roma living across different countries in Europe. The Irish Travellers we spoke to reminded us that social progress must be inclusive – and that it’s too easy to focus on headline issues while leaving others behind. One of their team said, “It’s not just about green and orange, it’s about who gets remembered, and who doesn’t.” That hit hard. If we want genuine change, it has to work for everyone.
Later that day, in a flurry of umbrellas and soggy clothes, we went into the Dáil, heading up to the chamber where the Tánaiste, Simon Harris, was on his feet taking questions. The Dáil is an impressive building, and you really feel the atmosphere of a changing Ireland. As we left the chamber, our guide brought us down a long corridor lined with portraits of Ireland’s political past.
One in particular caught my eye – Lord Edward Fitzgerald. He was described as a rebel, a freedom fighter, a man of privilege who gave it all up to stand with his values and countrymen and women. He saw injustice and dared to speak up. This really resonated with me – someone who tends to march out of step with others. That kind of leadership – standing for something bigger than yourself – stayed with me. It reminded me how rare, but powerful, conviction can be in public life. And how needed it is now.
We then visited the Seanad, where Minister Helen McEntee was updating them on education. We were grateful for the visit, which was sponsored by the Speaker of the Seanad, Senator Mark Daly.
Dublin felt like a city in motion. It wasn’t just the sunshine and trams. It was the energy, public spaces designed for people, investment you could see, and infrastructure that worked. That didn’t happen by accident. It happened because of long-term decisions, strong leadership, and the political will to keep going after a crisis.
Let’s not forget – not long ago, Ireland was in deep financial trouble. The crash hit hard. Austerity bit deep. But it turned things around. It focused on investment, skills, infrastructure and connectivity. The result is clear: the Republic has emerged from that period not just surviving, but with a renewed sense of direction.
That said, no one’s pretending everything is perfect. There are big challenges – housing, cost of living, and a growing sense of regional imbalance. We heard this particularly in conversations about Donegal and other rural areas. The same frustrations we feel in Derry exist there too – the sense of being left behind, outside the centre, waiting for long-promised development.
As I started the coach journey home, I couldn't help but start thinking about how grateful I was to be given the experience and opportunity by The Holywell Trust. The best part of the trip wasn’t a specific visit – it was the mindset we encountered. Quiet confidence. Resilience. A belief in doing, not just debating. No magic solutions – but the sense that things are possible if you back people, take risks, and stay the course. Leadership that shows up and gets on with it.
Within our group, something powerful started to take root, too. Conversations got real. Ideas grew legs. There was laughter, support, and challenge. It wasn’t just a study trip. It was a reminder of what we’re capable of – not just as individuals, but as a collective. My mind hasn’t settled since. It’s wired for action. For ideas. For change.
Am I hopeful for the North West? Absolutely. We have potential, talent, creativity and resilience. We need the confidence to say we deserve better – and the leadership to make it happen. If we build influence, share power, and work collaboratively, there’s no reason why our future can’t be every bit as ambitious as anywhere else.
We just need to act like it.
Because if not us, then who? And if not now, then when?
We’ve seen what’s possible – not perfect, but purposeful. And that’s enough to light a fire. The North West doesn’t need to wait for permission. We have the ideas, the energy, and the people.
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