I SURVIVED CATHOLIC SCHOOL
I saw this on a t-shirt on my first trip to New York City in 1985, and I had no idea what that meant.
Well, we have now survived one night of Religious Education. I got the kids signed up and pumped up. They were extremely excited about going to school with their beloved cousins. Unfortunately I didn't realize that Meredith (5) would be in the kindergarten class and her sister (7) would be enjoying the second grade class with her two cousins.
So, you're five years old and you're hustled into a class filled with a dozen strange kids and two strange women. What do you do? Why you cry your precious, adorable brown eyes out. God, I felt so sorry for her! And your clueless parents, who were hoping to slip out for dinner a deux at the Cracker Barrel, realize that this isn't going to happen and agree to stay with you during the class.
Teacher lady looked at Meredith weeping in my arms and inquired, "Is this her first time away from you?"
"Oh no!" I exclaimed. "Why, she's been in daycare since she was a baby.." Teacher lady gave an approving nod. Surreal. I'm getting a silent attagirl for being a daycare mom? Whodathunkit? I beat myself up over that fact at least three times a day.
"I think Meredith will feel better soon," whispers TL. There's a little girl from Vietnam who should be here in a few minutes." Sadly, when LGFV shows up, Meredith shows no sign of excitement at the ethnic resemblance.
The class begins. Teacher lady kindly allowed Meredith to sit on her lap.
"What did you eat for supper?" TL asks. The class responds with various answers. "chicken nuggets," whispers Meredith.
"What do you do before eating supper?" TL asks.
"Bodywash!" says Anthony, wiggling estactically.
"Very good. Now what season is this?" TL asks.
"Bodywash!" says Anthony, wiggling estactically.
"No, it's Lent," kindly responds TL. "Can anyone tell me what happened at the Last Supper?"
"Bodywash!" says Anthony, wiggling estactically.
TL gamely persists. She explains about the season. She manages to use the words liturgy and homily in the same sentence. She's losing her audience. But she gave it a good try, and tired five and six year olds aren't easy to teach.
The kids color and chat and TL does the lesson, snacks are eaten, and it's closing time. A candle is lit and now it's time for prayers.
"Let's say 'Our Father'!" TL says. My face flames bright red. My five year old doesn't know Our Father. Heck, I don't either. Oh, it's the Lord's Prayer! Apparently the Catholics call it 'Our Father'.
After teaching in the public classrooms for 17 years, it's surreal to be in a classroom with kids saying prayers. But it's kind of nice, too.
The kids say the prayer, and I make a mental note to teach it to the kids pronto. They make the Sign Of The Cross. I make a mental note to teach it to the kids after I learn it. Roger kindly shows me how to do it.
The kids exit and Madeleine shows up at the classroom door. "Are they real sisters?" asks TL.
"Not blood," I answer politely.
And we all go off to Cracker Barrel for our private "I survived Catholic school" celebration.
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8 comments:
You are cracking me up with this Catholic stuff! Hilarious.
-Allison (MAUD-L lurker, enthusiastic Catholic)
I'm not Catholic, but every Catholic I know would get and love these! I love your "ABOUT ME" Statements! Just really cute! ~ jb///
Hi, Sis! I'm gagging at the non-PC adoption language. Too darn bad that Mere couldn't go into the "triplets" class, since I know that Kathy (a/k/a second mom to my kiddos the cousins and adoption professional) and Laura, would NEVER have said that. So, do I mention this to her? Maybe we can enter a celestial petition to make Mere an honorary 2nd grader?
Do you have to have your marriage blessed? I (Presbyterian) stood up for my Presbyterian friend when she got her marriage to her lapsed-Catholic husband blessed, so that her kids could go to Catholic school. It was kind of fun, except where the priest explained that our Presbyterian marriages were not good enough. Oh well, I got flowers to hold and a nice dinner out of it, although then I had to keep her kids overnight so they could go on a little honeymoon.
Liz
Oh, you were polite. I haven't been able to figure out the polite response to that question yet, so thanks. Ethnic resemblence...that one has me giggling today.
I took a job teaching for a Christian preschool and the first thing the director said was that they start out with the Lords Prayer and of course, I know what that is! I said "OF COURSE"! As soon as I got home I had to look it up online to see how it went! I couldnt remember anything past "Our Father, who art in Heaven!"
"Are they real sisters?" asks TL.
They are now!
We almost put Catherine into a Catholic school (I was baptized, and was in charge of accompanying my grandparents to church when they were in town, but I'm not so very religious. Steve's technically Presbyterian, and has been to church even less than I).
According to pamphlets, the school was 25% non-Catholics, they encouraged diversity, pleasepleaseplease enroll your dirty nasty heathen children (OK maybe not quite those words.
But during orientation for possible new students, we were told that we'd need the child's birth certificate and baptismal certificate. When I asked the nice nun who had run orientation "What if our child doesn't have a baptismal certificate," she replied "Oh, just ask your parish priest for a copy."
"But, Sister...we're not Catholic."
"Oh, then I...I'm not sure WHAT we can do for you."
I wholeheartedly agreed, though silently, but we took Cat into the kindergarten room, which was, I must say, an absolute riot of happy fun learnlearnlearn kiddo joyfulness. But when I saw that the days curriculum started with "Catechism: 8:15 AM" I realized that it wasn't fair to expect Catherine to defend her brain when she was still in post-bed zombie state.
She now goes to a Montessori, which goes comparative-religion crazy every December, and we've done Christmas, Channukah and Kwanzaa the last couple years.
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