Suzanne Ryan

I applied for the Morrison Visa in 1993 while I was finishing my master’s degree at university. I was the one who had access to a computer, and I remember carefully following all the application guidelines, including the exact font size and formatting requirements.

 I applied on behalf of my family as well – five of us were eligible, but my youngest brother was too young at the time. We were all granted visas, but only the twins, my younger brothers Anthony and Paul, and I could take them. 

I moved to Chicago, where I settled and built a new life. In 1994 my twin brothers, Anthony and Paul, also moved to the U.S. under the same visa program. While I returned to Ireland after two and a half years, they stayed and are still living there today.

Before moving, Ireland was still emerging from the economic struggles of the 1980s. Unemployment was high, and there was a sense of uncertainty about the future.

I had already experienced life in America during a J-1 summer visa in 1989, and it left a lasting impression. The scale of everything, the energy, and the opportunities—it was a completely different world.

On a personal level, my mother had emigrated to Boston in the 1960s but eventually returned to Ireland. She had even purchased a return ticket to go back to Boston, but she never used it—my dad still has that ticket to this day. She passed away, aged 38, when I was 16, and in some ways, moving to the U.S. felt like continuing her journey. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunities she never got to fully explore. The Morrison Visa gave me and my siblings a chance to build something new for ourselves.

Celebrating my 25th birthday in the U.S. was a defining moment, not just for me but for my twin brothers as well. While I was marking my milestone in Chicago, they were back in Ireland celebrating their 21st. Just a few days later, they arrived in the U.S. to start their own journey on Morrison Visas.

That night, I took them out for their first legal drink in America, and we followed it with a trip to see Les Misérables downtown—it was a surreal and exciting time, filled with both opportunity and uncertainty. While I had settled in Chicago, they moved to Watertown, a heavily Irish community. They lived in two apartments alongside ten other young Irish people, creating a strong network from the start. Their experience was vastly different from mine—I was more isolated, away from a close-knit Irish circle, while they immediately had a built-in support system. It was a contrast that shaped our individual experiences of emigration.

Another unforgettable experience was bringing my father Anthony, and younger brother, Colin, over to visit in 1994. We did a full American road trip—Chicago, Florida, New York, and Boston—meeting family and experiencing the country together. It meant so much to share that with them.

The biggest challenge was adapting to the American way of working. Even though I had a master’s degree in marketing, I quickly realized that I had to start from scratch. Irish qualifications weren’t always recognized in the same way, and I had to learn to navigate a different system—rewriting my CV into a résumé, understanding the GPA grading structure, and adjusting to American workplace norms.

To get started, I worked in a recruitment firm in downtown Chicago, where I helped place many Irish Americans in jobs. At the same time, I also secured a marketing role with Kerry Group. It was all about persistence—taking that first opportunity to get my foot in the door, proving myself, and gradually moving up.

Those early days were tough. I slept on someone’s floor for the first few weeks after arriving—Róisín Ferron, whom I didn’t know before but had a connection with through set dancing and the Irish network back home. Her family had a shop in Roundstone, and that Irish network proved invaluable in helping me get settled.

Staying connected with family in Ireland was another challenge. This was long before social media, so keeping in touch meant buying expensive phone cards, scheduling calls, and writing letters. Receiving a letter from home was a huge deal—it was something to look forward to, a tangible connection to family and friends. Those challenges made the rare visits home even more special.

Moving to the U.S. gave me a level of confidence and resilience I wouldn’t have developed otherwise. It instilled an awareness of opportunity and a love of travel that has always stayed with me. America was so far ahead in terms of self-development and personal growth—it had a different mindset, and I took that with me when I returned to Ireland.

When I came back in 1996, I stepped into a marketing role at Supermac’s, and that led to a long career in healthcare management. I became Managing Director of Home Instead and then Bluebird Care, overseeing major healthcare operations. Today, I run my own healthcare and management consultancy.

But what I’m most proud of is how the Morrison Visa shaped my family’s future. My twin brothers stayed in the U.S., pursued their education as mature students, and built successful careers. While I returned home, I know that decision helped to change my family’s future for the better.

The Morrison Visa was a ‘golden ticket’.

Back then, if you got one, you took it—it was like winning the lottery. The program gave thousands of Irish people a legitimate, secure way to work and build a future in America without the fear of being undocumented. It wasn’t just about finding a job; it was about stability, opportunity, and having the ability to travel home when needed.

Looking back, I feel incredibly lucky to have been part of that. It enabled my brothers and I to continue my mother’s dream of making a life in the U.S. It was a moment in history that changed lives, and it should be remembered for the doors it opened and the legacy it left behind.