I’ve written a little about my grammar school days before, so this post will combine that with some new angles inspired by two old photos I recently rediscovered. My Catholic school went from first to eighth grade, and the teachers were often switched around from grade to grade. For example, I had one of my all-time favorites, Sister Barbara, as my second-grade teacher when she was still known as Sister Sienna.
As the years pass, I learn more and more about how people are judged (negatively) in this culture of ours for their chronological age. Since I don’t want that spoken over me, I rarely offer too many specifics. Nothing personal. Let’s just say those photos were taken somewhere between Polaroids and digital cameras!
I braced myself when I saw the title because I thought it was going to be another of those take downs of Catholic School Educations. So many of my friends who went to the same Catholic school I did tell about getting hit by nuns. I was there and I never saw that--not to mention my 7 siblings who were there throughout the years as well. It has become a trope--something people say. I'm so glad you wrote about a positive experience. And the pictures--so cute.
Thank you, Regina! Like most experiences, I could share positive and negative stories about my my education. But, for the most part, I have good memories of those days! 😇
Wow, Mickey, your Catholic grammar school experiences resonate with mine.
Like you, I was the brightest of the bunch by far: when in first grade, I was brought to the third graders to tell the structure of an atom. "An atom is made of protons, neutrons and electrons," I stated emphatically. In third grade, I was reading at high-school level. At our eighth grade science fair, when the typical entry was an avocado pit stuck with toothpicks sprouting in a glass of water, I demonstrated the principle of electrical induction with a working Tesla coil that I built myself.
Also, like you, I was uncomfortable with all the adult adulation at the expense of my classmates. I was voted class president every year. In eighth grade, I declined to run for student body president, weary of being the constant paragon.
(Side note on nuns having legs: as a star student, I was allowed to help the nuns with some chores inside their convent, with its high-walled garden. I was flabbergasted when I notices, hanging on the clothesline: women's bras. Up to that point, it had not occurred to me - bright as I was - that underneath their habits nuns were women.)
Indeed, Ned, it sounds like we both straddled the line between teacher's pet and popular kid. Thanks for sharing!
Your message reminded me that my school wanted to skip me a grade or two because the work was too easy for me. It was Sister Barbara who counseled my parents to leave me where I was in the name of healthy socialization. Bless her!
And yes, we referred to them as nuns but addressed them as "Sister." My schooling was run by Franciscans but I'm fascinated by the sometimes subtle differences between them and Dominicans!
...and then Google and Wikipedia arrived and put us all out of our «jobs».
Encyclopedic knowledge still occasionally comes in handy though.
Sure, but Google, Wiki, etc. can never truly know what humans know.
I would like to know what year the photos were taken. Thank you.
As the years pass, I learn more and more about how people are judged (negatively) in this culture of ours for their chronological age. Since I don’t want that spoken over me, I rarely offer too many specifics. Nothing personal. Let’s just say those photos were taken somewhere between Polaroids and digital cameras!
I braced myself when I saw the title because I thought it was going to be another of those take downs of Catholic School Educations. So many of my friends who went to the same Catholic school I did tell about getting hit by nuns. I was there and I never saw that--not to mention my 7 siblings who were there throughout the years as well. It has become a trope--something people say. I'm so glad you wrote about a positive experience. And the pictures--so cute.
Thank you, Regina! Like most experiences, I could share positive and negative stories about my my education. But, for the most part, I have good memories of those days! 😇
Wow, Mickey, your Catholic grammar school experiences resonate with mine.
Like you, I was the brightest of the bunch by far: when in first grade, I was brought to the third graders to tell the structure of an atom. "An atom is made of protons, neutrons and electrons," I stated emphatically. In third grade, I was reading at high-school level. At our eighth grade science fair, when the typical entry was an avocado pit stuck with toothpicks sprouting in a glass of water, I demonstrated the principle of electrical induction with a working Tesla coil that I built myself.
Also, like you, I was uncomfortable with all the adult adulation at the expense of my classmates. I was voted class president every year. In eighth grade, I declined to run for student body president, weary of being the constant paragon.
(Side note on nuns having legs: as a star student, I was allowed to help the nuns with some chores inside their convent, with its high-walled garden. I was flabbergasted when I notices, hanging on the clothesline: women's bras. Up to that point, it had not occurred to me - bright as I was - that underneath their habits nuns were women.)
Indeed, Ned, it sounds like we both straddled the line between teacher's pet and popular kid. Thanks for sharing!
Your message reminded me that my school wanted to skip me a grade or two because the work was too easy for me. It was Sister Barbara who counseled my parents to leave me where I was in the name of healthy socialization. Bless her!
P.S. Wait, what? Nuns wear bras????
Mickey, I'm not being snarky, but didn't the Sister notice the missing "i" between the "n" and the "c"?
Am I missing something?
(I too was raised by Sisters ((we called them Nuns))).
But they were Dominican Nuns. They exposed even less of their face. And neck. And their headgear looked downright painful.
Ah, MB...I just fixed that typo, thanks!
And yes, we referred to them as nuns but addressed them as "Sister." My schooling was run by Franciscans but I'm fascinated by the sometimes subtle differences between them and Dominicans!
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