INTERVIEWING a Kennedy is not easy. This family's story is part of 20th- century American history. Its private life has repeatedly been invaded by a public eager to savour the glamour, the legend and the pain. The US ambassador to Ireland, Jean Kennedy Smith, knows the world remains fascinated by her family. "I suppose I can speak for all of us in general terms, but really as you know yourself, I can only answer for myself." Is belonging to such a family more burden than privilege? "Oh it's a privilege, a great privilege. I am very proud of my family." Alongside the triumphs and achievements, there has been much tragedy. "My mother had a very strong faith, she always understood life is a balance between joys and sorrows; we were always taught to accept the hard things as well as the good." Life, she says, "is tough".
Practical, direct and very natural, she walks into one of several reception rooms in the ambassador's residence. Outside it is a dull, overcast July day. The Phoenix Park appears unusually empty. Perhaps it will rain, perhaps it won't. The ambassador is wearing a smart pink suit. "It's cold for July," she says. Jean Kennedy Smith obviously enjoys visitors and is extremely sociable. Hospitality is something she learnt at an early age. Interviews are different though. The photographer is waiting. "How many pictures can you take?" she smiles nervously as the camera continues to click. Following his directions, she looks out the window and then glances back.
The camera clicks busily. The adjoining room is yellow; it seems brighter, slightly less formal and further softened by the collection of family photographs featuring her four children, and her famous brothers, particularly the late president. Most interesting of all are the pictures of her and her siblings as children, the nine little Kennedys smiling confidently at a very different world.
The yellow walls of the room suggest that the afternoon is not really that drab after all. We decide to go for a walk. She leaves the room and soon returns wearing a sweater, blue jeans and walking shoes. "I need some exercise", she says suddenly, Jean Kennedy Smith is far happier. "Do we want an umbrella?" she asks, hesitating, will she, won't she. "I'll take a small one" and "remember", she remarks to a representative from the embassy, "she" pointing to me, "said she didn't want one".
She is an engaging, lively, informal character; a good talker, a reactor interested in everything and she walks with the contented determination of a naturalist tracking a rare animal. Her relaxed manner and complete lack of dogma belies the fact she is conscious of her official presence. Yet the only thing Kennedy Smith appears determined to avoid is anything which could be interpreted as "whingeing" - her word. As if part of a personal code of honour, she doesn't complain. "I'm lucky, I have had a good life." A natural gap between the trees opens on to a postcard scene where a group of about 60 of the park's herd of 600 fallow deer sit in the long grass. "Look at that," she says, asking, eyes narrowing, "Ever eat reindeer meat?" On a visit to Lapland, she found herself eating a lot of it. "That's what they eat there, it's just another meat. I felt very guilty, I kept thinking about Santa Claus and his reindeer." She laughs at the way her childhood perception of reindeer has continued to shape her adult responses to them. The walk continues at pace.
IT is Tuesday afternoon, the day after "The Spirit of a Nation" colloquium celebrating the 221st anniversary of American independence. Among the speakers were former Senator George Mitchell, playwright Arthur Miller, historian Dr Arthur Schlesinger, film-maker Alan Pakula, writer Frank McCourt and Dr Elaine Tyler-May of UCD. Kennedy Smith must have been delighted with the outcome.
"I was thrilled. I only decided to do it about six weeks ago and I was lucky it suited them to come. Had I been planning it for two years, it couldn't have gone better." Referring to the speakers, she says she found Mitchell's comments about the US Constitution particularly moving. "But there was also that sense of 'in America, everything is possible' and when you look at those speakers, Mitchell, Miller, Pakula, they all had their own story as the children of emigrants and look at what they have achieved." The day left her feeling, she says, "very proud to be American".
How important was Ireland to her as a child? "I was aware of this other story, my mother told us what it was like for the Irish when they first went to America. My grand-father Fitzgerald was the Mayor of Boston, its first Irish Catholic mayor and the first Irish Catholic mayor in the US. We didn't suffer, my family was very privileged. Yet you have to remember that things weren't always as they are now. My father, who was a businessman, felt there were more opportunities in New York and we moved there because there was such a prejudice in Boston against Catholics, against Irish Catholics. It was still a time when some signs said 'No Irish need apply'." She has always had a strong sense of history. "I love history, I majored in it at college." Was she academic? "No" she laughs, "not at all."
Still, her conversation is dominated by books she has read and wants to read: "There never seems to be enough time to read now", she says. On the question of being caught between two cultures, she refers to Synge's The Aran Islands and agrees that the sense of distance Synge describes in that book as existing between himself and the islanders is true of any situation where the respecting of distances assists the sharpness of observations. Speaking about theatre in Ireland, she praises the recent Pinter festival at the Gate and also the work of Irish playwright Sebastian Barry. On hearing he had previously published a novel, The Engine Of Owl Light (1986) she says, "I must read that", and later reminds me to write down the title. She appeared in Neil Jordan's Michael Collins and jokes, "I was great wasn't I? I thought Stephen Rea was wonderful, he is one of the great actors." Of Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes, she says: "I think it is amazing, very moving. I didn't think anyone could write a book like that with such love, considering the pain it describes."
Theatre and the visual arts have always interested her. In 1974 she founded Very Special Arts with the aim of providing people with disabilities opportunities for integration and self-expression through participation in the arts. "I have always been aware of the needs of the handicapped. My sister has a developmental disability. When she was very young there was nothing for her. My mother had no help. It was very difficult for everyone. In those days if a child was not perfectly well, it was considered like some kind of black mark. Now of course, that's no longer so. When my brother Joe was killed in the war, my father founded the Joseph Kennedy Junior Foundation in 1945 and out of that came the Special Olympics which my sister Eunice founded in 1969. You know my nephew, Teddy jnr, lost part of his leg below the knee from cancer? But he skis. And I think this is central to the entire question of disability. People with disabilities are not ill, it is not a health issue. It's about civil rights and the right to access."
Her particular interest in the arts inspired Very Special Arts which is now active in 87 countries, including Ireland where it was established in 1990. "When I founded it, the violinist Itzhak Perlman was on the board, he understood the many problems facing people with disabilities. Now in his case when he was young he couldn't have access to rehearsals." Perlman, a victim of childhood polio, was dependent on taxis to transport him between venues, with drivers often being called upon to carry him up awkward flights of stairs.
"In America it is now compulsory to have access in all schools, all public places; movie houses, theatres, restaurants, stores and so on." She refers to the Americans for Disabilities Act (1990), "I hope it's okay to go on about all of this, I think it's so important. That act has changed lives. It's the Civil Rights Act of the 1990s, it opens doors to all areas of housing, employment and schooling. I see employment as a civil right. I know Mervyn Taylor worked very hard on a similar disabilities bill here. And I'd like to see such an act being put in place in Ireland."
When did she first visit Ireland? "I came here with my brother in 1963, but had also been here in Cobh in 1938. I returned in 1974 and then in 1990."
Central to Jean Kennedy Smith's life remains her mother Rose Kennedy, who died in 1995 at the age of 104. "She wanted us to try everything, to play the piano like she did. None of us took it up. I regret it now, I have become more interested in music as I have got older, I think people tend to." She mentions Mozart. Is he her favourite composer? "No, no. But I know what I like." Rose and Joe Kennedy also encouraged their children to become involved and contribute to their community. The Kennedy family life was vital to the creation of the confidence its members share. "We were all pals. My brother Joseph was my godfather, he was the person to correct me if I was doing something wrong or stupid." _
As for politics: "We were always political. I have an absolute faith in politics and its ability to get things done. I'd love to see my children get involved in politics. But it's not the only way to contribute. My son William is involved with Physicians Against Landmines." Her nephew, Patrick, the representative for Rhode Island, is the youngest member of the US Senate. Since being first elected to the Senate in 1962, Edward Kennedy, her youngest brother, has been involved in virtually all the social legislation which has passed through the Senate. "Every piece of legislation related to those issues has his name on it," she says.
Would she have liked to have become politically involved earlier? "I have always been involved, I campaigned for all my brothers. But I stayed at home while my children were young." Jean Kennedy Smith met her husband Stephen Smith in 1955. They married in 1956, and lived in New York, aside from a short period in Washington, until his death in 1990.
"When I was a child, my father was the American ambassador to London - we're the first father-daughter ambassadors - so I can't remember a time when we were not an actively political family." When war was declared, the Kennedys returned to the United States. "We went back by sea, I remember the ship had to be kept in darkness at night. My brother Bobby slept in the pool - they had drained the swimming pool and lots of people slept in it." Of that time she says, "it was exciting, but then you don't really think of danger when you're a child. It's all a big adventure, isn't it?" Has she ever been frightened? "Maybe when I've been skiiing... but no, I haven't been."
AS President Clinton's political appointee, does she ever feel a tension between protocol and her emotions; the heart versus the head? "No matter how close you feel to a place, and I do feel I know Ireland - aside from my family connections, I have learnt a great deal about Ireland - it is important in a job such as this to understand, to be aware that you are an outsider in a foreign country." Referring back to Synge's The Aran Islands, and the notions of distance, she says "my role is to report to my government on the Irish Government's position. I suppose being here makes me more aware of being an American - that's something you tend to take for granted at home - and also of being Irish-American, of having some connection."
The Famine commemorations have heightened her sense of her Irish heritage. "My great-grandparents left here because of the Famine. Learning about the history of that time proved very powerful to me. Suddenly I saw my own family in a comparable situation to what would today be Rwanda." When she was first approached about the post was she apprehensive, delighted, honoured or scared? "I suppose a combination of all four. I was thrilled and honoured and I felt 'yes, this is something I can do'. My great-grandparents had left during a devastating time, I'm their great- granddaughter returning 1 50 years later as a representative of the US government. It's a humbling full circle."
On arrival in Ireland as US ambassador in June 1993, almost 30 years to the day after visiting this country with her brother, President Kennedy, she returned to Wexford. She has travelled widely throughout Ireland: "I have been literally everywhere. Obviously counties Wexford and Limerick are very special to me because of the family connections, but I also love Donegal, the Burren, west Cork and Connemara - Connemara has grown on me. I had to get used to the lack of trees."
Does she believe there will be peace in Northern Ireland? "Yes, because the people want peace. I don't want this to sound simplistic, but there was such an atmosphere of hope during the ceasefire. There is another aspect to all this though, we make our own problems, this is a man-made problem, we are obliged to solve man-made problems." Does she romanticise Ireland? "No I don't. I know people always thought Americans did, particularly in connection with the trouble in the North, but it is no longer the case."
Looking at Ireland now through her own practical but emotional eyes, she says: "I know there will be peace. I'm an American, that means I'm an optimist".
