Brenda O’Shea-Bruckert

I received my Morrison Visa in 1992. At the time, I was living in Dublin and had just finished a Master’s in Petroleum Geology from UCD the year before. I had landed an internship with the Department of Energy’s Petroleum Affairs Division, but it was very poorly paid, and there were no permanent prospects. Like so many others back then, I couldn’t see a future in Ireland.

I had already spent two summers in New York City on a J1 visa while in college — my older sister was living there, so I had a home base. Those summers were magical, and I completely fell in love with the city. When all three of us sisters were granted Morrison Visas in 1992, the path ahead felt clear. My younger sister moved in August 1992, and I followed in January 1993.

Those early days were tough. The U.S. was in a recession, and there were no jobs in my field. I applied to every environmental engineering firm in the New York area, but nothing materialized. So, like many immigrants, I did what I had to do: I became a waitress at Burke & Burke on Madison Avenue, right across from the Sony building. The funny thing is, all the waitstaff were also college grads — we were a highly educated crew, serving steaks and salads to executives and celebrities. Cyndi Lauper came in once. She was absolutely adorable.

I joined the UCC Alumni group and made even more lifelong friends. That first winter — the 1993/94 season — was brutal. Seventeen snowstorms in a row. I’ve measured every winter since against that one.

“In 1994, I took a semester of Environmental Science at NYU, and one of my professors gave me a contact at an engineering firm. That connection changed everything.”

I was hired in the fall of 1994 — finally working in my field. I went on to work on major projects around the city, including the Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant in Greenpoint. If you’ve ever driven by or taken the 7 train, you’ve probably seen it — those giant egg-shaped digesters lit up in blue at night. I worked on that project for 15 years, and it still gives me a little thrill to see it featured in movies.

Finding stable housing in those early years was also a challenge. My sisters and I were renting the top floor of a house in Astoria when our landlady declined to renew — she wanted her daughter to move in. We were scrambling to find somewhere else when my sister ran into someone from Killarney on a subway platform. They weren’t close friends, but as luck would have it, this woman knew of a place in Sunnyside Gardens and got us an interview with the landlady. Three bedrooms, a backyard — it felt like a dream. We moved in the next month, and the Killarney woman became another lifelong friend.

Those years were some of the best of my life. We had a great group in Sunnyside, and my apartment was always full — of visiting family, college friends from UCC and UCD, or just people passing through. I traveled a lot in those days too — Europe, Asia, all over the U.S. It was a time of connection, possibility, and new beginnings.

“What I’m proud of is not just the career I built, but the life. I’ve contributed to projects that have shaped the city. I’ve paid my taxes, bought property, raised a family, and been a part of a community.”

So many of my friends who came here on the Morrison Visa have similar stories. We made the most of the opportunity we were given.

I worry now that these kinds of stories might not be possible for the next generation. I’ve met just a handful of young Irish graduates here in recent years — and I’m not even sure how their visas worked or whether they stayed. It’s gotten so much harder to come legally. The political climate has shifted. The word “immigrant” has become controversial. But this country was built by immigrants — people like us — and turning our backs on that will only slow its growth and potential.