I went to a pretty amazing event this weekend. It was the annual alumni brunch for my long-closed high school. St. John Ursuline High School for Girls run by the Ursuline nuns – the first teaching order in Church. The Ursulines have a long and distinguished history and are rife with traditions. So this Sunday, there was a mass (nope, didn’t make it) and a lunch at the Irish Cultural Center. I went through twelve years of Ursuline teaching – experiencing the best and the worst of Catholic institutions – but I found myself this weekend – enjoying the memories and experience of being in a room with a hundred or so other women – most of the old enough to be my mother – but all with the same shared experience of an Ursuline education. Attending the lunch enforce was the class of 1958 who received their Golden Diplomas. The ceremony itself, consisted of Sr. Maura (who was principal when I attended SJU) calling up each woman and handing her a rose and certificate – not solemn at all – but touching nonetheless. From a class of 32 women, 24 attended the event – including one woman who traveled from Washington, DC. As I sat at my table, five other women who graduated in the 70’s (including my slime sister), I thought about how this tradition was going to be lost forever as my class approached 50 years. In a room of over 100 women, only 5 of us where there from the 70’s and none from the 80’s – the school closed down in the early 90’s. The event itself would not only be lost, but the years of history and tradition of the Ursulines in San Francisco will be lost with it. I thought about the teachers I had, Sr. Madeline who taught World History & Shorthand and who reminded me of my grandmother; Sr. Maura, the principal of the high school who always managed to look elegant while wearing a habit, Sr. Dianne who had poker parties in the religion room, Sr. Frances who taught Civics and held a mock-election (which I won – as McGovern – promising every voter 1k). Even Sr. Elizabeth, my 8th grade teacher, who had a saying for every single occasion – often admonishing us for not attending Mass by saying “God gave you the week, at least you can give him back one hour”. She also chided us for not knowing anything about Watergate, and told endless stories about the poor children in the mission up in Alaska where she’d taught for years. And among all that learning I got from these sisters, I also got am amazing sense of fearlessness. When I was in elementary school, girls did not run for class president (we could be secretary though) we barely played spots, and we got all the cleaning jobs (as opposed to mouse catcher – that went to the boys). But in high school the boys were banished to their own same-sex institutions, so every single task was fulfilled by a girl. It was empowering – never once did I hear the phrase “girls can’t do that” uttered in my school. Of course, I did hear, “girls don’t sit like that” a hundred or so times – but we learned that wasn’t a damn thing we couldn’t do and that has stayed with me through a few tv jobs that were male-dominated positions – and a bad marriage.
Along with the empowerment we developed, we also had a sense of freedom – we were allowed to do silly things – like the big sister tradition where a Senior girl would “adopt” a Freshmen as a way of welcoming them to the school. Of course, that involved baby food, bibs and oversized diapers. Or Mission Days – one day a year when we’d show up and the nuns would all be in overalls for a day of games Olympics style. And the ceremonies – Ring Day was a HUGE deal when we became juniors – all our rings were placed on a silver platter and were presented to us individually at a mass. The hierarchy didn’t suck either – being a Senior was so much fun – we got our sweaters with a patch designed by a classmate, we could go off-campus to KFC and we had our own bathroom. And Move Up Day – the last day the Seniors attend school – all of us in street clothes but wearing our senior sweaters – on the stage in the auditorium – some with flowers given to us by our baby sisters – singing the school song - while the Junior class took our places in the senior’s section of the gym.
So as I stood with all the other Ursuline girls at the luncheon, singing the same song I’d sung 30+ years earlier with my classmates, it makes me sad to think that in San Francisco, the amazing education, the wonderful memories and traditions are dying. Melinda Gates was an Ursuline girl – maybe she can pony up a dozen mill or so and we can re-open St. Johns? I’d be willing to finish my teaching credential to teach there!
