‘Look at the man in a dress,” my mum said, giving him a glance and a smile. “The poor thing.” Looking frightened, he flung the bread and milk into the passenger seat of his car. As he drove off, I saw that his back and side windows had, yet again, been smashed in. That was 1991 in Cabinteely, a quintessentially middle-class suburb of south Dublin, and I was 10 years old. Then, the likes of this “man in a dress” were, at best, ignored or laughed at; at worst, they lived in fear of physical attack. Eventually, they gave up getting the glass fixed, and simply drove in a car with no windows. Almost 15 years later, Jonathan Clynch, a respected journalist with RTÉ Radio One, announced that he...
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