Bloomers and Birthers
When I was maybe five or six, I had a dear friend named Theresa whose parents were from Italy. We hung out for most of the third and much of the fourth grade.
Often, after school, she'd invite me to her house for milk and cookies, and before indulging I'd go wash my hands. Her family kept the bathroom immaculate, as I recall, and the towels were always folded perfectly, but one thing could always be found hanging from the shower rod -- a pair of behemoth bloomers. They looked to me to be about the size of Alaska, and I recall asking Theresa who wore those bloomers. "My grandma," she said rather sullenly.
One day, I went to Theresa's house, and her grandmother opened the door. I wondered why I hadn't seen her at school lately. Her grandmother said "she now goes to parochial school." "What's that?" I asked. "That's where all good Catholic girls go." Somehow, I felt like I needed to wash my hands better or something, so I could go to parochial school. It seemed to me, back then, admittance into that parochial country club came about as a birth right, and not a rite of passage.
That day, I made up my mind never to practice religion of any kind. It was religion, after all, that cost me my best friend. Religions seemed to me a way of separating people, and in the aftermath of the eighth anniversary of 9/11, it doesn't look a whole lot different to me now.
I wandered down the street, and past Woolworth's. On the left-hand side was a barbed wire fence. It was a tall fence, and too steep to climb. A group of children were playing in the schoolyard, and there was Theresa. She ran over to the fence to say hello.
All I could see was her spanking clean uniform. It was rather daunting. I smiled, and wandered off. Somehow, I knew I'd never see her again.
I hadn't thought about bloomers, barbed wire fences, and parochial school until just now. Now I find myself thinking about those who think legitimacy is about wearing a clean uniform, and who keep us separate in the name of a greater good, or a greater god.
The only thing I found divine, back then, was the wonderment at what kind of creature could walk the face of the earth in a pair of bloomers that big.
Now, when I think of all those who try to pass themselves off as righteous because we don't go to their church, or their country club, because we don't have a pedigree, and because, more than anything, we just want to have milk and cookies, I cringe.
The America we want to leave behind is not one that houses extra large bloomers, or late bloomers, not one that separates children based on race or creed, but one that encourages a look at what unites, instead of what divides us.
Follow Jayne Lyn Stahl on Twitter: www.twitter.com/jaynelynstahl
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To all minimalists, and anyone else who read this story literally, be assured that it was written to be read on several levels, including figuratively and symbolically.
I think that you don't intend it as only a literal story is obvious to all readers. In my opinion it just doesn't work very well to tell the kind of story you are trying to tell with it.
I have wonderful memories of visiting a Catholic girl friend's home. That was the first time I ever ate potato tacos or hot dogs wrapped in a corn tortilla and deep fried. Yum.
I did not accept Catholicism based on the kindness of my friend's family.
The loss of your Catholic friend must have been truly hurtful but I think your rejection of religion had bases other than the unkindness of the grandmother.
Part 1.
I don't really understand why you saw your friend going to a parochial school and you not as being a condemnation of you or those who were not Roman Catholic. I know you were young when it happened, but the grandmother was clearly a non-native speaker of English and non-native to our culture so who knows how well she expressed herself to you. Maybe she was trying to find the right words in English so you would not miss your friend and understand why she had left and it came out in a way that made you feel alienated.
My experience with the RC schools when growing up was similar. They were the only religious schools around which is why my friend had to travel 40 miles to a Baptist school. The RCs clearly believed that the rest of us were hell-bound. That kind of thinking will separate people. I know that you think I've misinterpreted something, but you are wrong about that.
no I mean clearly I can see it was how both of you experienced this kind of event, so there is obviously something real there. And I can clearly see it for you but not as much for JL Stahl. I just wanted to point out there could be an entirely different interpretation of all the events surrounding her friend going to a different school. It just reminds me of how some of the older people in the Greek/Gree
part 2
In any case it didn't seem when I read it like they were trying to make themselves more righteous than you. They were just different. Maybe it helped preserve their sense of identity as a family. Maybe it gave them a place to speak Italian and participate in some cultural activities that are otherwise not part of the "American Way of Life." I just don't see why difference is inherently bad. I think one of the problems with our society is we are all supposed to be the same. But in reality we are not. I think my life is richer because I have friends who are different from me. Differences are something to be valued. For example, I think it would further gay rights in this country if people could embrace as a good thing that people can be different in some very fundamental ways. Why should we all have to believe the same thing or dress the same way or think the same ideas or have sex in the same way or have the same color of skins? Differences can unite if they are valued. If we love the differences.
I had a similar experience. My best friend was shipped off to religious school in fifth grade. It was an 80 mile daily round trip to that school. No time for friends. This was when I realized how bizarre his family was.
What could his parents have been thinking to put a 5th grader on such a long commute schedule.
The guy you didn't stand up for when he got older had been your best friend?
They were religious crazy people. That's what they were thinking. They had to keep their kid away from all the sex and drugs in the 5th grade.
Yes, he was my best friend up until then, but I don't think it's quite right to say that I "didn't stand up for him". He didn't get bullied. He was the very odd man out. I did not befriend him again once he came back to public school in the 11th grade. We had grown worlds apart by then. I had zero interest in being his friend.
Hi Jayne,
I agree with you whole heartedly. I gave up religion very early in life. I equated Santa, Jesus and God and when the fantasy of one disolved, so did the others. I believe in humanity and I remember the message the music of my childhood promised for the future. Up With People, Black and White, and I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing convinced me that my generation would fulfill the prophecy that all men are created equal. Too bad too many people let fear be their guide. They'd do better to listen to Jiminy Cricket. To me the irony is that the person most U.S sanctioned religions are based upon taught love but his name is used to promote hate.
Great article,
little brother.
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