Did you go to Catholic School?
12-14-2005, 11:05 AM
#1
Thread Starter
Did you go to Catholic School?
I keep threatening to start a Catholic school thread, so here it is.
Post some of the things you remember about your days there. Maybe some of the things that now make you laugh when you think about them.
Though I'm what I call a "recovering Catholic" I'm not looking to bash the Catholic Church. I fear that discussion would not be a good one to have/participate in.
This is some of what I remember:
Sitting on one side of my chair to allow space for a guardian angel.
Going to confession to confess lying to my mother and using the same list of "sins" just about every time.
Wondering what the nuns wore under their habits. Often wondering if they were women as they had names like "Sister George."
Having a bad attitude about the "public school kids" when they came in to partake in First Communion. They only had one hour a week of religion class, we had it EVERY day.
Feeling like you would STARVE to DEATH, because you had to go X number of hours without eating in order to take communion.
Wondering what would happen to the non Catholics who ate meat on Friday. If we ate it, we were going to ................
Post some of the things you remember about your days there. Maybe some of the things that now make you laugh when you think about them.
Though I'm what I call a "recovering Catholic" I'm not looking to bash the Catholic Church. I fear that discussion would not be a good one to have/participate in.
This is some of what I remember:
Sitting on one side of my chair to allow space for a guardian angel.
Going to confession to confess lying to my mother and using the same list of "sins" just about every time.
Wondering what the nuns wore under their habits. Often wondering if they were women as they had names like "Sister George."
Having a bad attitude about the "public school kids" when they came in to partake in First Communion. They only had one hour a week of religion class, we had it EVERY day.
Feeling like you would STARVE to DEATH, because you had to go X number of hours without eating in order to take communion.
Wondering what would happen to the non Catholics who ate meat on Friday. If we ate it, we were going to ................
12-14-2005, 11:12 AM
#2
Registered User
Catholic elementary school 4th and 5th grade following progressive hippy school 2nd and 3rd grade was not a good idea.
Getting drunk on the wine while an altar boy before school. Still hate wine as a result.
Having a nun smack me with a ruler and smacking her back.
Spending a great deal of 4th and 5th grade at the principal's office.
I won't get into the high school years.
Getting drunk on the wine while an altar boy before school. Still hate wine as a result.
Having a nun smack me with a ruler and smacking her back.
Spending a great deal of 4th and 5th grade at the principal's office.
I won't get into the high school years.
12-14-2005, 11:44 AM
#3
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The Scene: The middle of the asphalt playground where several third grade boys are playing softball. The playground and entire school is surrounded by a stone wall that faces the street where the State of California houses The Department of Transportation, Division of Right of Way office.
The Players:
Bob, who is at bat.
Father Doheny: Who happens to be walking past Bob who has just wiffed a pitch.
Three High School girls who appear to have a crush on Irish men.
ACTION
Bob looks forlornly at the bat and wonders if this next pitch, which might become the third and final strike, is going to be the final straw on a day that hasn't gone all that well from the beginning. What with getting to school only to realize that he had put his trousers on over his pajama bottoms and laughing when Sister Maria Evangelina got her arms wrapped around the bell rope and violently waggled up and down until Father Hines came along to dislodge her and snatch Bob up and out of the vestibule, the spectre of striking out stood out as almost more than a third grader should have to take for one day.
As the pitcher begins his delivery, a voice calls out from behind Bob. "Hold on there, let me show you how it is done", shouts Father Doheny as he walks up with his large and outstretched hand . It is apparent that the priest wasn't talking to the pitcher so Bob hands the Father the bat with no small amount of at least temporary relief.
Again the pitcher begins his delivery, the first pitch laboriously drifts past the good Father's powerful swing only to fall and roll between the catcher's legs and back toward the three high school girls who are cheering on the priest.
Father Doheny appears a bit embarrassed now that he realizes that he has a cheering section. Bob is content with the knowledge that whatever happens at this point, he will not be the center of attention.
And then, something happens that forever changes the way that Bob will look at priests. The ball floats from the hand of the third grader on its way toward the man who had forsaken his homeland to come to this backwater town in northern California only to find himself lonely and homesick. That loneliness would one day turn him to excessive drink and a DUI violation, but today, he is about to show the world (and the teenage girls watching him) just how strong and powerful the years at the seminary had made him.
As the ball comes closer to the priest, it is apparent that the good Father has been served up a "fat one". The ball is coming in slow and will intersect the Father's body at just below waist height. With all his might, Father Doneny swings the bat and the entire playground is suddenly filled with the crack of the bat against the ball.
Few in the playground have ever seen a ball rocket off the face of a bat as fast as this sphere that begins a long arcing rise into the air. It has reached at least 20 feet high as it passes over the pitcher. By the time is reaches the center fielder, the third grader can barely see the ball as it continues on its path over the stone fence and across the street and into the large plate glass window in the California Department of Transportation, Division of Right of Way office.
The sound of the ball hitting the bat is little preparation for the kids who now hear a thunderous crash coming from across the street. All eyes are on the Priest. His next move will leave a lasting impression on all the young souls on the playground (including the three teenage girls who are now swooning mightily).
Father Doneny hands the bat to Bob and walks away.
CUT
The Players:
Bob, who is at bat.
Father Doheny: Who happens to be walking past Bob who has just wiffed a pitch.
Three High School girls who appear to have a crush on Irish men.
ACTION
Bob looks forlornly at the bat and wonders if this next pitch, which might become the third and final strike, is going to be the final straw on a day that hasn't gone all that well from the beginning. What with getting to school only to realize that he had put his trousers on over his pajama bottoms and laughing when Sister Maria Evangelina got her arms wrapped around the bell rope and violently waggled up and down until Father Hines came along to dislodge her and snatch Bob up and out of the vestibule, the spectre of striking out stood out as almost more than a third grader should have to take for one day.
As the pitcher begins his delivery, a voice calls out from behind Bob. "Hold on there, let me show you how it is done", shouts Father Doheny as he walks up with his large and outstretched hand . It is apparent that the priest wasn't talking to the pitcher so Bob hands the Father the bat with no small amount of at least temporary relief.
Again the pitcher begins his delivery, the first pitch laboriously drifts past the good Father's powerful swing only to fall and roll between the catcher's legs and back toward the three high school girls who are cheering on the priest.
Father Doheny appears a bit embarrassed now that he realizes that he has a cheering section. Bob is content with the knowledge that whatever happens at this point, he will not be the center of attention.
And then, something happens that forever changes the way that Bob will look at priests. The ball floats from the hand of the third grader on its way toward the man who had forsaken his homeland to come to this backwater town in northern California only to find himself lonely and homesick. That loneliness would one day turn him to excessive drink and a DUI violation, but today, he is about to show the world (and the teenage girls watching him) just how strong and powerful the years at the seminary had made him.
As the ball comes closer to the priest, it is apparent that the good Father has been served up a "fat one". The ball is coming in slow and will intersect the Father's body at just below waist height. With all his might, Father Doneny swings the bat and the entire playground is suddenly filled with the crack of the bat against the ball.
Few in the playground have ever seen a ball rocket off the face of a bat as fast as this sphere that begins a long arcing rise into the air. It has reached at least 20 feet high as it passes over the pitcher. By the time is reaches the center fielder, the third grader can barely see the ball as it continues on its path over the stone fence and across the street and into the large plate glass window in the California Department of Transportation, Division of Right of Way office.
The sound of the ball hitting the bat is little preparation for the kids who now hear a thunderous crash coming from across the street. All eyes are on the Priest. His next move will leave a lasting impression on all the young souls on the playground (including the three teenage girls who are now swooning mightily).
Father Doneny hands the bat to Bob and walks away.
CUT
12-14-2005, 12:02 PM
#4
I went to St.Joseph's in Gowanda NY from K-8. Had a nun for a teacher every year. I remember spending lots of time in church, especially during the holidays. Everyday the school would assemble in the church during 8am mass, which was right next to the school, then we'd go from there to classes. No wonder I don't go anymore!
Was an alter boy for quite a few years.
Jeans/sweatshirts were not allowed.
Our school didn't have uniforms like many did.
The class sizes were big, ranging from 33-44 students.
Liked the holidays as we'd be off from school when the public school was in session.
Our playground was the church parking lot, had lots of skinned knees and torn pants from recess.
I'm sure that there is lots more that I'll be reminded of as this thread gets longer.
Was an alter boy for quite a few years.
Jeans/sweatshirts were not allowed.
Our school didn't have uniforms like many did.
The class sizes were big, ranging from 33-44 students.
Liked the holidays as we'd be off from school when the public school was in session.
Our playground was the church parking lot, had lots of skinned knees and torn pants from recess.
I'm sure that there is lots more that I'll be reminded of as this thread gets longer.
12-14-2005, 12:53 PM
#5
Thread Starter
Originally Posted by NNY S2k,Dec 14 2005, 04:02 PM
The class sizes were big, ranging from 33-44 students.
Liked the holidays as we'd be off from school when the public school was in session.
Our playground was the church parking lot, had lots of skinned knees and torn pants from recess.
I'm sure that there is lots more that I'll be reminded of as this thread gets longer.
Liked the holidays as we'd be off from school when the public school was in session.
Our playground was the church parking lot, had lots of skinned knees and torn pants from recess.
I'm sure that there is lots more that I'll be reminded of as this thread gets longer.
Our playground doubled as the church parking lot. There was a BIG YELLOW or maybe white line down the middle. Boys played on one side, girls on the other.
When the bell rang, and I'm talking a real bell held by a nun, not some electronic buzzer, you lined up according to grades to go into the school, and NO talking.
If your Mom worked (which was unusual back then) you could stay at school and eat a box lunch. NO TALKING during lunch. If you forgot your lunch, you'd get soup made by the nuns.
The rest of us walked back home for lunch, and back again after.
My trip was 1/2 mile each way. We never thought twice about it. Our mothers did not worry about us walking, and only on VERY miserable weather days did they try to arrange rides for us. Most of the Moms did not even drive, and if they did, the Dads had the car at work!
12-14-2005, 01:05 PM
#6
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Went to Judge Memorial Catholic HS in Salt Lake City, Utah!
In a case of "turnabout is fair play", the public school kids in Utah were afraid of us rowdy Catholics, instead of vice versa.
My Latin teacher (num) was well into her 90's, and had a hump back that made her extremely crotchety. She was not too pleased with me when on the first day of class my to verb tense question was "dunno sister, I pass." Things went downhill from there.
In a case of "turnabout is fair play", the public school kids in Utah were afraid of us rowdy Catholics, instead of vice versa.
My Latin teacher (num) was well into her 90's, and had a hump back that made her extremely crotchety. She was not too pleased with me when on the first day of class my to verb tense question was "dunno sister, I pass." Things went downhill from there.
12-14-2005, 01:17 PM
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Absolutely no funny memories, just some pretty bad ones. More on that in the other thread.
I was raised Catholic, but by the time I reached my teens I became essentially agnostic.
I was raised Catholic, but by the time I reached my teens I became essentially agnostic.
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12-14-2005, 01:23 PM
#8
In spite of Lainey's caveat in the first thread, I would like to share a troubling story. There is no need for anyone to comment....but perhaps be aware that this stuff happens.
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[QUOTE][SIZE=1]Julie (daughter of our neighbor and my personal doc) started Sept 04 as a 1st year student at St Josephs University on the western edge of Philadelphia.
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[QUOTE][SIZE=1]Julie (daughter of our neighbor and my personal doc) started Sept 04 as a 1st year student at St Josephs University on the western edge of Philadelphia.
12-14-2005, 01:35 PM
#9
Thread Starter
Originally Posted by tomcatt,Dec 14 2005, 05:17 PM
Absolutely no funny memories, just some pretty bad ones. More on that in the other thread.
I was raised Catholic, but by the time I reached my teens I became essentially agnostic.
I was raised Catholic, but by the time I reached my teens I became essentially agnostic.
I don't have bad memories, of my time spent there, though many do. I do feel some of the stuff we were taught was truly off the wall.
I no longer practice nor participate in the Catholic Church for many reasons, but we can discuss it another time.
I know when I made some calls to folks to see if they wanted to attend a reunion, I got a few "I don't want anything to do with that place" answers.
12-14-2005, 01:47 PM
#10
Friday hot lunch every Friday from K through 5th grade was:
fish sticks, french fries, cole slaw, bread and butter, cookie and milk.
Every Thursday during announcements as they read "tomorrow's lunch will be", the entire class would recite it. The teacher would smile and say something like "OK kids, that's enough".
Starting in 6th grade, we sometimes got the carboard pizzas on Friday.
fish sticks, french fries, cole slaw, bread and butter, cookie and milk.
Every Thursday during announcements as they read "tomorrow's lunch will be", the entire class would recite it. The teacher would smile and say something like "OK kids, that's enough".
Starting in 6th grade, we sometimes got the carboard pizzas on Friday.