I'm a NICATH.
That's an acronym I just made up that stands for "Non-Irish Catholic."
Every year millions, nay billions, of NICATH children are forced to attend school while their Irish Catholic sistren (and brethren) get to flit off to parades unknown in curly wigs and bright dresses to dance their jigs at secret Irish parties. They proudly boast their green sweaters and their tams-o-shanter and their other things that Irish people wear.
The rest of us try to fit in, sure. We buy buttons that say, a little sheepishly, "Everybody's Irish on St. Paddy's Day, right?" We choke down our Shamrock Shakes and our corned beef and cabbage and our disgusting green beer.
The schools try to make it OK. Today is "Heritage Day" at my son's school. "Celebrate your heritage, kids! Wear something that shows you're proud of where you came from! This is our politically correct way of celebrating a holiday that traditionally makes a good percentage of you feel left out!" Since I didn't have a German flag to wrap him in or some lederhosen, I sent him in a green sweatshirt (to fit in) and a Tron T-shirt. Our heritage is now a fictional world where Jeff Bridges never ages, apparently.
So because I feel uncomfortable and because my child might have a few hours of discomfort in his otherwise cushy life and because we personally don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day or any other holiday that promotes either fun or hooliganism (How I despise hooliganism. I feel the same way about it as Rick Santorum feels about college), the government should go ahead and ban St. Patrick's Day for everyone else.
It's the American way!
/End sarcastic rant. Slainte!