Not Smart Enough

As second year novices, we began attending Portland State.  I was taking general college survey courses to add to about a years worth of college work that I had done prior to entering.  It came time to discuss which area we wanted to study and prepare for a teaching certificate.  I wanted an endorsement in English and to teach high school.  This did not serve the Sisters needs.  I also wanted to minor in Theology.  I could see that a lot of the Sisters really didn't have a very good basis in this area.  We were religious after all.

The Sister who coordinated the education for all the Sisters met with each of us.  My meeting didn't go anything like I expected.  When I expressed my interest in English and theology, I was immediately shot down.  She laughed at me and said, "What makes you think you're smart enough for either of those subjects?

I was stunned into silence.  I was living at the convent, keeping its crazy schedule and also going to school.  I was bringing home straight A's and my GPA, that first year was 4.0.  If I hadn't proven already that I was "smart enough" I didn't know how.  After scoffing at my misguided ambitions, I was told that theology was a useless degree and that I would be teaching grade school.  Inside,  I felt like I'd been sentenced to Siberia.  My closest friend in the convent was on track to teach high school history.  We'd talked about how fun it would be to team teach and use our subjects as companions to learning.  We wanted to open up new worlds to our students and both of us felt very passionately about our subjects of interest.  I hadn't expected they'd want me to teach elementary school. 

Summing up the courage to protest, I made a plea to study English and unknowingly opened the door to the first of the punishments for reporting on Sister Christine.  After consulting with the Grand Poobah, Sister Felicity, it was decided that I would be sent to Our Lady of Good Counsel.  It was a convent that housed the Sisters who staffed Christ the King grade school and La Salle High School.  I was going to be observing English teachers so I could see what was required and to prove to me that I couldn't do it.

At first, I viewed this "assignment" as a mixed blessing.  I would be away from the craziness in Formation but I'd also be away from any friends.  I would be isolated.  I'm sure that this was the intent of the powers that be.  I also knew that I could easily become an English teacher and that I was definitely smart enough.  Part of me was anxious to prove it.

Our Lady of Good Counsel was staffed by a handful of final professed Sisters.  The head of the house was a distant and extremely difficult to read woman who never made eye contact.  It's very likely that she had what we now know as Aspergers.  Also, in the house was a very temperamental Sister who can only be described with the words "Super Bitchy".  She was a holy terror and I tried to avoid her at all costs.  You could never please her and never knew when she'd lay into you and "rip you the proverbial new one".

The remaining three Sisters were composed of one adorable and gentle first-grade teacher who was very kind, a kindly older Sister who had some grasp of the "lay of the land" and a Sister who taught at the high school but was rarely there.  It was pretty obvious why she made herself scarce.  The role of Cinderella seemed to be cast for me the day I moved in.  The older Sister was my fairy godmother and tried to protect me from the wicked step-sisters when she could.  The kindly first-grade teacher was an older Cinderella who commiserated at length about the evil deeds of the step-sisters.  This commiseration was actually hard to bear.  Knowing that a fully professed Sister was still victimized daily was a frightening reality.  Was I looking at my future?

As for my school assignment,  it was soon obvious that I was basically useless.  The students soon sensed that I was being punished and we quickly bonded.  A few of the younger teachers became friends.  I got along well with most everyone and was soon well liked.  The Sister who was teaching there acted jealous.  I began to help some of the students with their work when possible just so that I'd have something to do.  Being away from the mother house, I thought I might escape the attention of the powers that ran my world.  This was not the case.  They hadn't forgotten about me and soon decided it was time to really rock my tiny boat. 

Memory fails me as to the reason for what I would call "The Grand Inquisitions."  Not long after I was settled in to a daily routine and finding kindred spirits among the faculty at La Salle, I was summoned to a visiting room at Our Lady of Good Counsel.  There sat Sister Felicity, Sister Christine, and another Sister associated with Formation.  I was placed in a chair a few feet in front of them and the three of them began telling me how awful I was.  I left in tears hoping that this would never happen again.  But it did, only then with some advanced warning, I tried to assemble an advocate on my team.  Unfortunately, my advocates never knew how to respond to the situation.  It was probably too surreal to them.   God knows it was surreal to me.

After a few months of this, I was a nervous wreck.  I suspected trouble everywhere.  I felt completely powerless and trapped in some bizarre nightmare.  I wanted it to stop but this nightmare just  seemed to keep on going.  I came down for breakfast one morning, not yet awake.  I don't wake up in a bad mood but I'm not very chatty first thing in the morning.  The resident "bitchy" nun shouted at me,
"Don't you have anything to say to me this morning?"
Inside I searched my brain for the answer.  I couldn't remember any obligation to report to her.
She let out a huge sigh of disgust and said,
"You're supposed to greet me.  Don't you know how to say, Good Morning, Sister."
I mumbled a meek, "Good Morning, Sister,"
and quickly sat down.  I had completely lost my appetite and wanted to excuse myself so I could slink away and cry but I knew that would not be met with approval so I choked down some cereal that tasted like sawdust.
Later, the kind Sister apologized for the mean one's remark.  The kind Sister rarely stood up to the mean one.  We were doing our best to try to live with our wicked step-sisters.

At this time, it may be said, that I was not smart enough to leave.  I certainly wasn't smart enough to tell them where they could shove their good morning.  I was not yet ready to really understand that I was looking at my future.   It would take time before I was able to find the courage to leave this nightmare and no longer be complaint.