I Am A Catholic School Survivor
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What is black and white and black and white and black and white? Give up? A nun rolling down the stairs! That little bit of humor earned me a beautifully-timed slap across the face, delivered, dare I say gleefully, by Sister Mary Elizabeth when I was in the 7th grade at St. Patrick School in Tacoma.
And yet I survived, time and time again, as the nuns and later the Jesuits tried their best to mold me into the image and likeness of Jesus. Fat chance that was going to happen!
True, our family was Catholic, but I have always suspected that I was sent to Catholic school because my mother wished it; I’m fairly certain dad didn’t really give a damn one way or another. I know for a fact he didn’t like nuns, which became apparent very early on in my career at St. Patrick School. In First Grade our teacher announced to the class that from that moment forward yours truly would be known as William rather than Bill because William was a saint’s name. By the time I got home I was in tears, telling my mom that Sister Brutus (or whatever her name was) told me I was no longer Bill. Mom made the mistake of telling dad when he got home from work and then the fun began. At seven that evening we piled into the car, drove down to the school, woke up half the neighborhood, and then dad announced to God and anyone else listening that he had named me Bill and he would be goddamned if some nun who has never had children was going to change my name.
Oh, but it didn’t stop there. Five months later the same nun slapped my left hand with a ruler because she said all God’s children used their right hand to draw and print. Home I went crying, told mom who of course told my dad and off we went again in the early evening to once again wake up the neighborhood as Big Dale informed the aforementioned nun that if I wanted to print with my toes then that’s what I would print with. My reputation had nowhere to go but up after that….or so I thought.
Now lest you gain the impression that I think Catholic schools are horrible let me tell you that I received an excellent education in the Catholic school system. This was the Fifties and at that time in the United States corporal punishment was accepted; in the Catholic school system it was expected by all, including my parents. It’s not that my dad had anything against corporal punishment; he didn’t blink an eye when I was slapped in the 7th Grade for my black and white joke. It’s just that dad had a code that he believed in and heaven help anyone who did not agree with that code.
The nuns had a job to do as dictated by the parish priest as dictated by the bishop as dictated by the pope. Just as they had a job to do the students felt it was their duty to find creative ways to make their jobs harder, and for eight years I did my best to honor that duty. We were not bad kids by a long shot. I, for one, was an altar boy, knew the mass in Latin, played the organ at weddings and funerals and could genuflect with the best of them. All admirable traits for a Catholic student for sure; on the flip side I knew exactly when to expel gas for the maximum effect, could camouflage tacks on the nun’s chair with the best of them and was somewhat of a legend for leaving lizards and frogs in the desk drawers of my teachers. It was eight years of a battle of wills and only the strong survived.
Yes, I am a Catholic school survivor. Little did I know that grade school was just a warm-up for what was to come….high school and the Jesuits. For those of you not familiar with the Jesuits allow me to enlighten you. The Jesuit Order of the Catholic Church was considered the Marine Corps of the Church. The men who taught in the schools as a prelude to priesthood were tough as nails and ran their classrooms like a drill sergeant preparing their troops for battle. Their weapon of choice was a flat board with holes drilled in it for less air resistance and the board was used on our backsides whenever we had broken one of a thousand different rules. The paddle was bad enough but it was usually wielded by a man who received a great deal of enjoyment from the sound of fifteen year olds yelping in pain. The name of the school was Bellarmine Prep but it could just as easily been called Sadist High School.
Our greatest nemesis was a man named Mr. Thompson (not his real name) who would tell us to grab our ankles and then would back up ten paces so he could get a running start before whacking us. This usually resulted in the offending party flying across the front of the classroom, then limping back to his seat believing in the awesome power of God.
For repeat offenders the whacks were delivered at lunchtime out in the courtyard in front of the entire student body. If you don’t think that builds character you are sadly mistaken.
So now I stand before you, a man of character. True, I dream of delivering corporal punishment to some of those long-gone teachers, but with my luck they are all dead and buried and I will forever be cheated out of my revenge.
Would you like to know the punch line to this story? I became a Catholic school teacher.
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Thanks Paul...they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger so we should be pretty strong people.
This was really funny! Great job. Kids today don't know how easy they have it, lol.
maria...thank you so much. Looking back it was unbelievable what the teachers were allowed to do. At the time it wasn't too funny but today I find it hilarious.
Well, I must say this was an education. While corporal punishment is no longer employed by most public schools, at times I think the students would benefit from it. I do not, in any way, however agree with changing a student's name or dictating what God already decided, i.e. a left hand dominance. When I say they would benefit today, I mean for infractions of a truly serious nature such as gang banging, assault, arson and other such infractions. I bet you did build some character. You would have had to. Thank you for a glimpse into the unknown. This was riveting.
Poetvix...I have a million stories about Catholic schools so I am pretty sure there will be more hubs about them...as always, thank you for reading and I always appreciate your comments.
I went to a catholic school in the early 60's. I had a nun named Sister Mary Gertrude for the 1st and 2nd grade. She used corporate punishment, too. She hit my hand with a ruler, I think. She pulled a boy's ear dragging him to the front of the class. After 5 years, I went to the public school. I don't think they should change anyone's names at all. I voted up. One of the priests did slap my brother across the face. My brother didn't like school.
gail....to say the least it was interesting in Catholic school. Looking back I laugh now but at the time I didn't think it was too funny. Thank you for reading and commenting.
Your welcome. It wasn't too funny all those years ago.
I wore PLAID for eight years! And now I'm a recovering Catholic. One day I'll say I'm "recovered". ;) Thanks for writing this. I know all too well the scenarios you described.
cclitgirl...I like to think we are stronger for it...thank you for visiting and commenting.
Oh....I love Love LOVE this! 13 uninterrupted, gruesome years of Catholic School. I wasn't too much of an incorrigible brat in elementary "Our Lady of Mt. Carmel,"not for lack of trying, mind you. Our nuns were old, hard of hearing & slow.
High School was another thing. Loved my friends (we were "trouble") and aced my grades, blindfolded, but by this time, I was a full-fledged Rule-breaker/Authority-bucker. Period the end. I needn't tell you how well this goes over in a Catholic Prison. The upside was, there were only about 12 ass-kissers in the class. We insolent heathens ruled as the majority!
To this day, conversations of those days, end up in hysterical laughter. Up & awesome!
Power to the insolent heathens! Love it! Thank you for reading and commenting; you and I will get along famously well.
billy....crazy, disgruntled Catholics ALWAYS get along......Correction: Myself, I am a Recovering Catholic.
fpherj48..I'm going to get a tshirt that says that; might as well advertise my re-birth.
billybuc ~ I just loved this. I truly feel that one of the times in my life where I learned EXTREMELY QUICKLY was when I started 9th grade. Following 8 years of Catholic school, I truly had no idea what I was in for when I switched to public school. I have laid across a nun's knees more than once. It wasn't fun. When I look back, one of the reasons was understandable (at the time). My friend Elizabeth's family grew grapes and made wine. She would come in to school with squirt guns filled with wine and all her friends would line up in the bathroom. Ha! Today, I have a difficult time saying that I was raised Catholic. I was, I did the church thing back then as I was told. But today, I will not likely admit it. Kind of like I don't like to say I was "raised Democratic." Thanks for a great read!
Sharyn
Sharyn, I understand all too well why some people say they are a recovering Catholic. :) Thank you for reading and commenting and I, too, was raised Democratic.
Well it seems that you clearly state that this is my life , and I love speaking the truth about my life and that's what happened at a time in my life when I attended school and I survived , to tell the tale and with honors.
A great piece and there was not a school while I was growing up that that did not feel that passion for punishment and the truth is is produced , but again we are what we are and I got expelled for refusing punishment.
I would not change a thing .
Great work brethren billy. Are any of your past pupils following you as we speak? I know they may buy the book.
Bless.
Sky, one of the great joys of my teaching career is the relationship I have with my students from years past. I hear from many of them on a weekly basis and they follow my writings with joy and love. That, my friend, is what teaching should be all about. My best to you; keep walking that path.
Another interesting article. I went to a Catholic school in the 80s in South Africa during the apartheid era. Thankfully, the nuns and brothers no longer used corporal punishment! I am grateful that my parents sacrificed(financially) to send my siblings and I to one of the few integrated schools in the country. The school provided an oasis from the world outside ...not only did we receive a good education but we were taught that we were not inferior because of the colour of our skins. We still managed to get up to a lot of mischief as kids do... and although I am now a retired Catholic I could not forget the prayers and bible verses that were so thoroughly drilled into us.
LeilaMonei, I actually echo your thoughts about Catholic education. I received in incredible education and it was an oasis from the world outside...it was just a bit difficult when we had to leave that oasis. Thank you for dropping by and my best to you and yours.
Hi Billy, I'm also a Catholic School survivor. My school was attached to a convent, but the nuns weren't so bad because most of them were over 70; although they were still one or two that could frighten you just by glancing at you. My brother once got thrown out of mass, because one of the nuns accused him of walking funny.
We used to have a secret door at the end of the corridor that was never opened. Everyone used to believe that it was haunted by the 'Black Nun' and if you went in there, you'd never come out.
JKenny, that is some funny stuff...and I have no trouble seeing that scene and believing the same thing. Our principal was as mean a woman as I have ever met and she scared the hell out of me....sometimes. :) Thank you for stopping by and visiting.
If you change the name to Michael.
You just wrote my experience of catholic school.
And here's the cracker.
Many years later I too ended up teaching in my old school. How bizarre.
I did not whack the kids though.
I found it very odd.
It was my first teaching post out of college.
I taught 'wait for it'... Religious studies! lol to the lower school, and Sociology to the Upper school (college age)
So half of my day was spent talking about God, and the rest of the day explaining why he didn't exist.
Pretty freaky. But I had a great laugh and expunged my demons then and there.
What a joke! All those canings for what?
I for one am glad they got rid of corporal punishment!
Oh my goodness yes! I could no sooner do to someone else what was done to me...I, too, taught religion, to middle schoolers...do you think there is any chance they cared? I know I didn't when I was that age. But it gave me a fun outlet to speak about life in general and morality in particular so I didn't mind at all. Great comments sir! I appreciate you dropping by.
I just had flashbacks to my wonderful experiences in Catholic School (one of which my father attended and had a 'reputation' at - a fact that the principal shared with me when I was called in to meet her - she was the principal when my dad went to school there, too). LOL!
TT, I go into involuntary shudders when I think of my days in Catholic school, especially elementary....not sure how I came out sane. :) Maybe I didn't and that explains it all.
I look at it a lot like post tramadic stress disorder. :)
TT...LOL
Coicidentally, I just finished a blog, which related to much of my Catholic School experience in the mid-fifties and sixties. (The 1950's not 1850's!) It is called, "St. Izzie of Seville, the Patron Saint of the Internet." Rather than repeat it here, it can be found at: http://jeannieguzman1.wordpress.com/2012/05/22/st-
Thank you Jeannie; I will give it a read shortly. I appreciate you stopping by and sharing.
Paul Kuehn Level 6 Commenter 3 months ago
I, too, attended Catholic schools for 8 years in the 1950s. Yes, the nuns I had weren't afraid to box ears when they saw kids misbehave. I also was an altar boy and remember really incurring the wrath of one nun when I screwed up practicing in the sacristy of the church. Actually, because our class size was small and we all feared the nun, I can't remember many discipline problems in our class compared to the problems I have now teaching. Great hub!