Law & Order & Jesus: A Perfectionist's Letter of Thanks to a Catholic Education

Categories: Breeality Bites

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Hello, old friend.
I didn't grow up in a Catholic household -- my mother is not religious and my father denounced his own status as a Catholic before I was born. But I was baptized Catholic, then confirmed Catholic as a teenager and for nine years, I attended Catholic school. How this all came to be exactly, I'm not sure, other than the fact that my grandparents were extremely Catholic and that must have been how I ended up this way. This Catholicism has stayed with me through adulthood, though I no longer attend church and vehemently disagree with most of the church's stances on LGBTQIA people's general existence and how women should conduct their lives (and various other social issues, though Pope Francis has been making some notable strides).

But I do find myself enjoying moments of being part of "Catholics club," which consists of me and two other friends who sometimes find humor in things you only know about if you went to Catholic school. This past weekend, I attended a very casual alumni picnic at my alma mater, Christ the King. Setting foot on the campus for the first time in twenty years, I started to think a lot about how the first half of my education shaped the person I am today. The person who is a controlling, manic and unbridled perfectionist.

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The first thing I noticed as I walked up to my old sacred stomping grounds was the side door I used to exit in order to bang erasers. Do kids still have to do this? Do classrooms still have chalkboards? To a 33-year-old person, thinking about seven-year-old me clapping two felt bricks together in a un-ending quest to get them clean seemed mildly Draconian. But here's the thing: I remember liking doing it. Catholic school was the birth of my eternally and mostly detrimental crusade to be a perfectionist.

And it wasn't just the erasure-banging I took comfort in -- it was the whole damn Catholic school experience. Nothing heats up the cold, black heart of a Virgo quite like a building devoted to children learning the law-and-order of life. In Catholic school, there was no tardiness -- you were either in class or you weren't. I learned that you didn't show up anywhere late because being late is the same as not being there at all, a rule I then applied to all aspects of life. To this day, I refuse to enter a performance or movie or anything after it has started, waiting instead for a respectable entrance at intermission.

In Catholic school, if you disrupted class in any way, your name was written on the board. Another disruption would land a checkmark next to your name, and a third and final disruption meant a trip to the principal's office. I was so scared of ever being in trouble that I remember getting my name on the board exactly one time in first grade, when I was accused of participating in an illegal "social hour" that went down during class.

That singular incident was enough for me, instilling such a fear of upsetting anyone that it never happened again. To this day, I do not interject in conversations or public places where people are speaking until it is my turn. And I always I respect the person leading the dialogue. I like to raise my hand and wait my turn.

Keep reading for more on the Catholic club.



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6 comments
Cecelia Lankutis
Cecelia Lankutis

spent 16 years - first grade through bachelor's degree. also worked for two catholic hospitals. think I've been through enough purgatory for three lifetimes.

Selena Thiele
Selena Thiele

I went to a significantly poorer Catholic school for the younger grades- but yes, we knew which schools were the richer ones and which weren't. You could usually tell when you went to their gym/field to play sports in the Catholic school league. My school was small enough that students generally weren't tasked with beating erasers, though the name on the board punishment was pretty standard. Also if you really naughty, you'd have to sit against the wall of the school during part or all of recess, though most of us took that guilt and some level of perfectionism to heart, so it was rare. What she really missed is that you usually ended up with the same people, or close to it, between kindergarten and 8th grade. You know each other well and if you're weird, you're always the weird kid. I also went a step further- Catholic high school, which is another level of wacky, though all of us seem to wear a badge of honor for surviving.

Robb Pierce
Robb Pierce

Nothing will make you atheist faster than being raised Catholic, and attending Catholic school!

sballardo672
sballardo672

I attended Catholic school for a few years and my memories were not the best...until reading your article, which reminded me of the valuable tools I was taught.  I know longer practice Catholicism; however, these same tools enabled me to flourish in the Marine Corps and has served me well throughout my life.  Aside from the capital punishment they doled out, I'd have to say that my time in Catholic school served me pretty okay. 

sballardo672
sballardo672

Actually, while I walked away from the Catholic church, I maintained my faith through non-denominational Christianity. 

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