Writer, Filmmaker, Mother, Grandmother
This is an article I wrote for the Sunday Post back in 2021. As Scotland men prepare to play their first match of the 2026 World Cup it is very relevant indeed! When I was growing up, Scotland was going to win the World Cup. Fact. Ally MacLeod told me. I had no reason not… Continue reading Another generation will have hope spring eternal, their faces uncharted by disaster
The first Celtic history conference was held yesterday (Saturday 6th June) at Celtic Park. As one of the conference organisers we believe this is first conference of its kind of any single football club, so it was a day of making history.The conference itself went incredibly well, kicked off by former Celtic player Tosh McKinlay… Continue reading The inaugural Celtic history conference.
We're one week away from the inaugural Celtic history conference, Win Lose or Draw which is taking place at Celtic Park on the 6th of June and it's promising to be a bit of history in itself. There are more than 300 coming along (and there's a really big waitlist too) to the event to… Continue reading Celtic Exchange Podcast
I made a documentary for BBC Radio 4. It's an autoethnographical piece, written and recorded on Rathlin Island, where my father was born, and where his remains now rest alongside my mother. The documentary is called The East Light. Here's the blurb: Margot McCuaig visits The East Light, a lighthouse on Rathlin which holds memories… Continue reading The East Light, BBC Radio 4
The day of the viva finally came and I am delighted to say that on Wednesday the 12th of November I passed! The viva, held by the examination committee at the University of Stirling, was robust and intense. I have some amendments to make, but to say I'm pleased to have passed is an understatement.… Continue reading Viva voce!
Yesterday, the 26th of May, marked six months since my beautiful daddy died on the 26th of November 2024. It also marks six painfully long months since I caressed my fingers around his, his voice no longer even a whisper, his light fading. In the early hours of that morning, I kissed him goodbye, praying… Continue reading Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
It has been forty two days since my dad died. In terms of a number it has no real meaning, not in the sense of it being aligned to a specific date, like a month or two months, or even a birthday or an anniversary. It is another day of losing him again. A day,… Continue reading Notes of a life
When we were making the funeral arrangements for my dad's requiem mass and committal, Friday the 13th emerged as the first available date, but I didn't baulk at it. A date with such negative connotations was fitting. How could anything be positive on the day I would publicly say goodbye to my father? As it… Continue reading By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man.
This is PhD chat, but because my PhD thesis is autoethnographical, it is also entwined in the personal by both circumstance and design. In my last update about my writing journey, I spoke about how I wanted to be able to finish my last draft chapter before Christmas, in the hope of spending the first… Continue reading PhD draft. Breathe in, not out.
I was nine years old when my granny died, but I vividly recall her funeral on Rathlin Island. My dad and, his brothers, carried Granny's coffin from the chapel down church brae to the cemetery at the church at the bottom of the hill, facing the sea. Back then, that journey was referred to as… Continue reading An island tradition; the beauty of saying farewell
Margot McCuaig 