Sharing my Story to Heal the Broken Child - 6th Grade - Sweet Little Catholic Girl vs. Sr. Delores Theresa -continued

People want to know what Sr. Delores did to me to make me go ballistic.

It was many years ago but the fact that I remember the incident quite clearly is tell-tale.

It affected me profoundly. As I became older and wiser I began to realize more of the implications. Young children and adolescents are fragile beings and are deeply affected by what those in authority say or do to them.

Shortly before I reacted so wildly - I mean really what catholic school student sticks her tongue out at a nun even if her back is towards her? - Sister Delores had come down the aisle and ripped the shirt off my back. Unprovoked. The reason why? I had committed the horrendous sin of wearing something other than the uniform navy blue cardigan. It was a cold day and to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I even owned a navy blue cardigan. Our school uniform consisted of a navy blue jumper and a white blouse with a peter pan collar and a little clip-on navy blue bow tie and a stupid looking navy blue beanie (even though silly looking - I loved the beanie). I remember washing the blouse out and hanging it up on a hangar almost every day after school. I probably owned only two white blouses. We weren’t rich. My Dad was the lab assistant and an adjunct professor in the Physics Department at Queens College and my Mom did not work outside the home. I had three siblings. Besides a scarcity of money, my mother didn’t drive and we lived a distance from any worthwhile stores. Also, my father thought clothes were a necessary evil. People would tease my Dad, saying that he was still wearing the same suit his mother bought for him when he graduated from high school. The joke of it all was that it wasn’t too far from the truth.

Good Catholic girl that I was, I wouldn’t think of asking for things that I thought my parents couldn’t afford. Besides, I had learned from my father that clothes were not important. My father is German, did I mention that? Wanting fancy clothes and other material things that might be glamorous or unnecessary in any way, bordered on sinfulness.

So typically, I just didn’t wear a sweater over my uniform and this was fine. You didn’t need to wear a sweater to be considered in the proper school uniform. But then, one winter day, it was cold. I mean really cold. I found a flannel shirt lying around the house and I put it on over my uniform. I wore it to school under my coat. Since we had to walk several blocks from our house to the city bus and then take the bus for several stops and then walk a couple of blocks again to reach the Catholic school, I was still feeling cold when I arrived at school. Oh how I wished I was still “Public” – but then again that’s another story. So when I got to my classroom, the flannel shirt was feeling so warm and cozy that I simply left it on. Big mistake! My nice, warm, cozy feeling was short lived.

Possibly, it was Sr. Delores’ time of the month, or maybe she was feeling a bit lonesome that day, but I happened to be the target for her discontent. She suddenly appeared beside my desk and before I knew what was happening to me, she pulled the shirt from my body and slapped me across the face. I was shocked and humiliated. How dare she assault me like this!! But what could I do – she was a nun and I was a kid. I don’t remember tears and for me, the big cry baby, that was unusual. I guess deep down I knew that Sister’s behavior was horrendous and unacceptable. Looking back now, I wish I had been able to speak up for myself in a mature manner. But then again, I was a child and she was my teacher and a nun. Even though my reaction was childish, my anger was justified and the fact that I reacted with instantaneous fury says to me that I still had a bit of self respect and I thank God for that.

I don’t know if I ever forgave her and I don’t think she would even care or notice.