Rebel Without a Because
It’s not hard to be a maverick in Catholic High School
During the early 80s, I attended Mount Saint Joseph Academy, an all-girls Catholic high school in Boston. We were called Mounties, which I hated with every fiber of my being. Aside from some epic fuckery with my friends, I truly hated the place. Decades later, it’s still a thrill to be free of Cell Block M.S.J.A.
I had a rep of being rebellious in high school, but seriously — how hard is it to be a rebel in Catholic school when wearing the wrong color sweater or untucking your blouse gets you detention? No challenge at all. It was almost an insult getting branded as a rabble-rouser in Catholic school. The bar could not have been set any lower.
For example, I used to walk DOWN the middle stairs of our school. That’s right, DOWN. This was strictly verboten at all times, even when the halls were quiet. But I was a wild woman, an ever-present affront to authority, and brazenly descended DOWN the middle stairs.
See what I mean? It’s fucking walking down a flight of stairs. No one spat on a crucifix or said JFK was a lousy president, for Chrissakes.
But hey, rules are rules, no matter how stupid. This clearly made being a high school rebel about as challenging as a boxing match with a praying mantis.
Sometimes I would wear *gasp* sneakers with my uniform. Brazenly, I might add. I was extra before extra was extra. To complete my ensemble, I’d wear a Rolling Stones lapping tongue t-shirt under my uniform blouse(half unbuttoned, of course) because I was Satan Incarnate. Wardrobe choices. It really is that easy for Catholic kids to get labeled as a troublemaker.
As you’ve probably guessed, Catholic high school girls spend a lot of time on their knees.
In church. You pervs.
After you enter the church and bless yourself with the holy water, find your pew, genuflect, and kneel. I haven’t been to Mass in thirty years, and I’ve no doubt I still remember all the choreography.
But I digress. When you are kneeling in church, your back best be straight, missy. If you lean that butt up against the bench, you risk the wrath of the nearest nun. If you slouched in Catholic school, it was an act of sedition. Apparently, Jesus has a thing about poor posture.
By senior year, not only was I over it, I was done even pretending to comply. I was called to the office every day but rarely accepted the invite. What were they gonna go, suspend me? Gee, that would be horrible. Expel me? No such luck. My parents were never late with my tuition and my grades were good, all things considered.
I was trapped like a rat until late May 1983.
A few weeks before graduation, Sr. Marice, the ancient raspy-voiced nun who wielded the mic for morning announcements, allowed herself to be human for a minute and added, “if she has the time” after 35,647 unsuccessful attempts at luring Kathleen Copeland to the office. Very un-nun-like. This was literally the first mic drop. Well played, Sistah.
More Catholic kid fun:
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