Catholic schools in and around Philly are closing left and right. Before the last light in the last classroom is flicked off, let us celebrate the heroes of parochial education and the extraordinary mission they took on.
That mission, in a nutshell, was to fit kids like me into Anglo-Saxon Protestant America so I would be noticed for my neatness, cleanliness, manners, punctuality, work ethic, and, yes, respect for authority, exactly like those other kids, all of whose parents came over on the Mayflower. Kids like me were the sons and daughters of the waves of Irish, Italian, and Polish Catholic immigrants who began washing up on our shores late in the 19th century, emphasis on "late."
To accomplish this daunting mission of assimilation, extremely hard-nosed bishops and extraordinarily caring pastors began building schools where "Catholic education" would take place. They recruited congregations of sisters for the elementary and girls' secondary schools, priests and brothers for the boys' high schools. The religious communities originated in Europe but soon nurtured mostly homegrown members.
The priceless labor donated by these men and women of God was by far the main source of funding for the new schools. I had Immaculate Heart of Mary Sisters as teachers in every elementary grade at Blessed Virgin Mary in Darby, and Augustinian fathers every year at Monsignor Bonner High School.
Were they successful? I recall epithets depicting our unsuitability being hurled outside: Mick, dago, Pollock, and their variations. Never did those slurs reach our ears within the walls of our schools. We were judged straightforwardly on our performance as students, on our compliance with the rules, and on something called "health habits," which I think meant cleaning up like an IBM sales rep.
