Catholic School Baggage

Catholic School Baggage

I was talking to a friend of mine today and we were reminiscing about grade school. I grew up in a very Catholic household and I was sentenced to the Catholic school system for pretty much my entire life. I’ve talked to many people that have gone through the Parochial School system and the majority of them only have great things to say about their experiences. To that I say, “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME?! Why were all the Catholic schools I attended filled with nut job lay people, senile nuns, sadomasochistic brothers, and the PRIESTS!” We don’t even have to go there.

No members of my family were ever touched by a priest. That was because my father is a Deacon in the Catholic Church and I think his position shielded us to a great extent. But, we found out years later that one of the old principals of my grade school in Wisconsin got busted, prosecuted and is now in prison for things he had done.

I could write page after page of stories about the crazy ass crap that went on in the schools I attended. I had one old nun as a teacher in 4th grade that would walk up and down the rows of desks as we worked and would always stop at the same kids desk and just start slapping the back of his head.

The poor kid would yell out, “What’d I do? What’d I do?”

“You know what you did! You were thinking impure thoughts!” she would scream back.

Another sister, Sister Ellen George, was my piano teacher. My folks weren’t rich but they wanted me to have lessons so they sent me to the convent because, miraculously, sister could teach all the musical instruments in the symphony orchestra. She was in charge of the school band and when you heard it play, the sound would remind you of the Kazoo marching band from any Bugs Bunny cartoon. I HATED THAT WOMAN!

She had me playing the same STUPID piano piece for six months! It got to the point where I was going insane and would screw up the piece just because I played it so much I didn’t care anymore. It was like Chinese Water Torture. And when I blew it, she brought out the ruler and wrapped my knuckles. Great teaching technique that woman had.

My folks were so ensconced in the traditions and authority of the church that when I went home and said, “Mom, Dad! Sister hit me!”

“What did you do to make sister mad?” was their reply.

The lay teachers were not much better. I had a fifth grade teacher that would serenade the class with songs of the day because she just thought her voice was that beautiful. She would just burst into “Jesus Christ Superstar’s” song “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” and we, the captive audience, would just sit there.

Then there was Mrs. Carr, my 3rd grade teacher. She played the piano in class when we sang songs and sing in her Edith Bunker voice. The kicker was that she would put her glasses on backward while she played and told us that if we acted up she’d see us, because she had eyes in the back of her head. We were 3rd graders what the Hell did we know? She was such a freak of nature that we believed her. I don’t know HOW many nightmares that woman caused.

The last thing I’ll mention about Catholic School was our sports department. In my day, we were always the laughing stock. Every other public school in the league had names like, the “Panthers”, the “Wolverines” or the “Vikings”. We were…the “Shamrocks” and our football line was half the size of any other team we played against. It was always a massacre.

We should’ve been called the “Martyrs”.