Catholic School

Earlier I mentioned that it was my mother who was Catholic and that she wanted her children raised in the Catholic Church and to go to a Catholic school.  Our parish in Florissant was Our Lady of Fatima and I found myself there starting in first grade.  The experience was generally good with discipline being what you might expect from nuns and priests.  Corporal punishment was meted out when needed to maintain good order, even when infractions were minor.  

I remember one instance where I experienced what today would be construed as assault.  I had torn a completed homework page out of my workbook along the perforated edge but as I got to the bottom the corner of the page was ripped away.  None of the printing was missing from the page so I didn’t think much of it but Sister Mary Elephant (I can’t remember her real name) thought it was a mortal sin.  She raised a large textbook over her head and brought it crashing down on the top of my head.  I think I still have a bump and am left with that memory permanently ingrained below the bump.  And I believe my soul is still safe from eternal damnation, at least for that. 

Sister Mary Vincent was the oldest and meanest nun at our school.  She was likely in her late 60's or early 70's and well known as the one you didn’t mess with unless you wanted a trip back to the coat closet for a whipping with a yard stick.  While I never enjoyed that pleasure she did grab me by the arm once and dug her long sharp nails into the skin of my underarm leaving small cuts and scratches. 

The priests were always looking for more priests to fill their seminaries and we were visited regularly by members of the Maryknoll Missionary sect, which had a high school and college in the suburbs of west St. Louis County.  When I was about 11 some of my friends and I visited their seminary 3 or 4 times and eventually the priests convinced me that I was to be a priest even though I wasn’t particularly pious.  I guess the idea about going to far-away places to spread the word of God and save souls sounded like a good idea.  A visit to my house to speak with my Dad about eventually enrolling me in the high school there was met with “we can’t afford it.”  Thank you Dad for realizing my limitations.  I would have made a horrible priest.  I wasn’t even that good at being an altar boy and I couldn't carry a tune in the boys choir.  They left me alone after that and none of the boys who went to visit ended up going there though some did go on to other Catholic High Schools. 

In the spring, towards the end of 7th grade, I discovered girls. Actually I think I discovered that other guys had discovered girls so I just followed along.  I asked Christine Brown to go to the school picnic at Chain of Rocks Amusement Park and she said “yes”.  We all went by bus and met her family at the park. I don't really know why I asked her to go with me to the picnic. I guess it was my first experience with teenage peer pressure. We went on rides together at the amusement park and we held hands and I ate lunch with her family. It was all very innocent. I noticed some of the other kids went walking in the woods but we stayed in the main part of the park. 

The next day at school I got called to the principals’ office along with several other boys. It seems that Father Suren had observed, or been told by someone, that some of the boys had taken some of the girls into the woods and were doing "dirty" things there. Now all of the boys who went to the picnic with girls were in trouble. They questioned each of us separately but kept the others in the same room during the questioning. We were silent the whole time. When it was my turn I told the truth, that nothing other than holding hands took place. I don't think he believed me. Then he began asking questions about the other boys. Who was with a girl? What did I see them do? Was anyone kissing? I really hadn't seen anything.  All of us were petrified. Father Suren was threatening us with suspension, or worse, expulsion from school. Even after he had heard my story he went on and on about how I was a sinner and made it clear that God didn't like sinners. 

Two guys got suspended for a few days. None of the girls got in any trouble. After we went back to class everything was rearranged with the boys on one side of the room and the girls on the other side. I was still too naive to figure out what was happening but even though I had done no wrong Father Suren still made me feel dirty. 

That incident brought back memories of another time I was in confession with Father Suren a few years earlier. After I had confessed a few menial sins, he began asking me strange questions like "did I play with little girls?", then "did I play with little boys, too?" At first I said yes to both questions. Then he asked if I ever touched them. I again said yes. Then he asked where I touched them. I hesitated but I got the point by this time and said no; that we just played together like on the playground. He didn't badger me or anything but it made me feel strange.  I never had the same feeling about the Catholic Church after the picnic incident.  When given the choice of continuing at Catholic school or going to public junior high I chose public. 

I never really went back to the Catholic Church except for a few holidays where it was a family obligation. I held onto my belief in God but to this day I don't buy into much of the dogma and none of the pomp and circumstance.  I guess most people appreciate the comfort of fellowship.  Me, I'm not a joiner.