SCHOOL DAZE

As the fall draws away from the summer heat and humidity, all the children are off to school taking me back to a time long ago that makes me smile at my own expense. Mom’s truly enjoyable and happy welcoming of the beginning of the school year! Her sweet face would transform into a perpetual smile causing her wise and knowing face to become almost giddy or girlish or even child-like with enthusiasm like when a birthday is near.

It was very annoying.

First looking at me she would break out in song. And what was that vile song she sang? “School Days” in her most unappealing voice she sang from the heart, crushing my spirit causing me to squirm and resent any money I spent on her for Mother’s Day as I knew I must face the consequences of being Catholic and my Mom’s son. I was destined to suffer at the hands of the nuns, brothers and lay teachers at Our Lady of Lourdes Roman Catholic School! This occurred every year until I started high school. In particular, the days I went to elementary school in Brooklyn were the most painful as a smile cracked her lips and her eyes danced in almost delirium? I feared maybe she was either drinking or on drugs. If they had extended the summer vacation by one more day she definitely would have resorted to alcohol or drugs.

Right after Labor Day, when the school would call back all its students, Mom would take us out for new shoes and clothes to start the school year, along with composition books with the black marble covers that said: COMPOSITION then left lines for your name and classroom on the marbled cover. The teacher would make you draw a cross on top of the page and the initials ‘J.M.J. for Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Each classroom was adorned with the handwritten script of the alphabet ruled on a green background as it surrounded the walls of the classroom. Beside Jesus on the cross were the portraits of both George Washington and Abraham Lincoln looking down on me.

But the night before was the worst! Along with the singing, she would polish my shoes, starch my shirt and that morning as my suit stood pressed and my blue tie on the hanger make me lunch. Sadly, summer was over, I had to now leave my freedom for the rigid discipline of the school. Line up for entry into the building before class started with your grade, two by two, explain why you didn’t attend Mass the day before during attendance, read and study a catechism that you remembered by rote, getting into a mechanical rhythm while unconsciously you also spewed out the answers to the catechism and the math, the fear of having to go up to the blackboard and get creamed if you didn’t solve the math problem. God, I was unhappy! Not only could I not go out and play with my friends after dinner as I had all summer long, but I also had to sit and listen to warnings of grave consequences if I did not behave!

Mom: “ If the teacher has to discipline you and I find out, when you get home you will GET THE REST!

Then when morning broke on the first day of school, the last night had gone too fast! Going to bed that night, I thought I had at least the night for final summer freedom.

I slept through it all.

And the next morning through sand encrusted eyes I saw Mom at the foot of my bed, a smile transcending the summer into the school year! Oh, the pain. It seemed that her word “Freedom” was used a little too much with no American flag in sight!

And so it went, every new school year, year after year. Mom had her silly times for sure at my expense.