I WAS BORN THIS WAY : PART ONE

                                       

FIRST GRADE : THE YEAR OF MY FIRST DEBATE WITH A NUN

                 Lately I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what makes me the way I am.  Some of my personality has definitely been refined by the way I was brought up, my parents, teachers, friends and for the last fifty-something years my husband and children.  I see how people and events have shaped me, and I must say, mostly for the better.  At some point I may actually investigate how certain people, places and events changed me, but for now my attention is focused on the qualities I was born with that remain core to my personality.  Usually I try to curb them, or at least marshal them in the most positive way.

       When I started to formulate a process for this I was standing next to the magnetic pad of paper on the refrigerator. The first word I wrote on the pad was Questioning.  Over the course of the next week or so as I pondered what my “default” settings were, I added Impulsive, Opinionated, Talkative, Stubborn and Bossy.  I think I stopped at this point because that list of qualities is pretty confrontational for me to consider.  I do have some softer qualities like Nurturing, Creative, Loving - but I think it is the strong ones that have done more to shape my life.

I decided to look at them one at a time so I started with the first one I remember and one that remains dominant in my life. I was one of those children who questioned everything and then when I got an answer I followed that with why.  I questioned everything and everyone and often challenged the answer with my opinion.  I was in first grade when the nun who taught religion called my mother because I would not accept the concept of unbaptized babies going to “limbo.”  I never accepted this teaching and still hold fast to my belief that a loving God would never do this to an innocent baby.  I guess it is no surprise that in the mid-sixties at one of those art/craft fairs with tie-dye draping and sawdust covered pathways I bought an enamel pin with the words “QUESTION AUTHORITY.”  This adds another dimension to my inquisitive nature but I’m not quite sure how to label it.  I wasn’t totally defiant but maybe more than passionate when I believed something to be true.  My mother never gave up urging me to be more diplomatic in my presentation but she never undercut my desire to seek and speak the truth as I saw it.

       When I think back on my school days I see how Questioning and Opinionated go together for me.  I was and am always questioning and assessing what I think of things.  In this regard, I am very much reminded of a young “me” by my grandson Owen.  For as long as he’s been verbal he has been interested in everything and has an opinion on everything.  And I mean everything!  He will offer his unsolicited observations even when you don’t know he is listening to an exchange.  The subject doesn’t matter.  The discussion can be about clothing choices, paint colors, plant selections, hairstyles – Owen has a suggestion.  I see myself in him, and I want family and friends to understand that I am usually trying to keep that opinion to myself.  Obviously, I’m not always successful!

                                  

ARTICULATE OWEN WITH HIS BIG SISTER QUINN

       I had only gotten to Questioning and Opinionated when my husband and I started watching a documentary series on Netflix called “The Keepers.”  I was hooked from the very beginning because these women were the product of a Catholic girl's high school.  This was not some fancy ivy covered posh school, but a local working-class school much like mine.  Their memories and observations about a favorite nun, their lives as it related to her and their attempt to solve her murder many years’ later, included discussions about how they reacted to authority during their high school years.  I began to be a little less self-conscious of my strong personality and realized that the upside for me had been that I stood my ground for myself and others. 

                              

THE YEAR I PLAYED THE VIRGIN MARY IN THE CHRISTMAS CANTATA

       Although she is probably long dead, I had a nun, let’s call her Sister Mary (that name was in some configuration for all of them.)  Sister Mary was just plain cruel.  Mostly mean with words, she could also whip you out of line by the back of your uniform if you were chewing gum, talking or any number of transgressions.  Since I stood up to her I was often a target and I’m sure it was her worst nightmare when the speech and drama teacher cast me as the Virgin Mary in the Christmas Cantata.  On the day of the performance, I tried to get away with a little lip gloss and right before Joseph and I were to enter the back of the auditorium on our way to Bethlehem she yanked me by my hair from behind and into the girls bath room where she used that powdered soap to scrub my mouth.  Of course, I was a bit shaken as we crossed Egypt to get to the stable on the stage, but my lips were certainly red.  I managed to remember all my lines and was maybe even more emotive in the “my soul doth magnify my Lord” speech.

       In “The Keepers” I watched the abuse survivors and their classmates who had known nothing about the abuse and its link to a murdered nun, fight for justice many years after the crimes.  I am in awe of their strength and determination.  They are all warriors and continue to fight the authorities in their local church, police department and legal system.  Standing up to authority, going against the powers that be when you encounter abuse or injustice is not easy.  It took some of these women years to divulge what they had gone through but now they will not be stopped.  I have not heard rumor of any abuse at my school and I certainly saw nothing to indicate it was going on when I was there.  What I saw in “The Keepers” and have heard from experts is that predators target the most vulnerable.  I think my questioning and opinionated tendencies made me an unlikely target and I thank God for those qualities.   My challenge remains to follow my mother’s advice and try to be more diplomatic and less of a steamroller!    

                               

SOME OF MY SENIOR CLASSMATES