At the Vatican, Up Against the World
Black Day headlines in our real world, click on link to read the full NYTimes editorial. I went to Catholic school and really was more afraid of the other appendage - wood ruler like a switchblade, coming from nowhere and slapping plump child hands for the terrible error of sloppy capital J's. The SugarDaddy lolly to the finest capital J stung more; dreadful cursive lessons. The nuns and priests, we had a monseigneur too, seemed vague and curiously large in heavy cosplay. The altar boys were pitied more because they had to master Latin, Latin not the really cool pig-Latin we thought was just for we the innocents, which was so much work.
There were hints of sexual thoughts. Callused palms were cool and earned the best way - upside down on the monkey bars, plaid skirt oops not on my mind. A cold "wear shorts, you'll tempt the boys" did confuse me. Why would the boys be tempted? By what? In second grade one's already looked and played doctor with a huh, what's that all about. There were no tales of bad, just bad mean waddling nuns that were all special and we were not. Escaped before middle school and I suppose that would be the dangerous years. Yearning and hormones and a Church that "understood," move the perverts to a fresh parish and maybe, just maybe, a weekend retreat. So sad that children seemingly come programmed with reluctance to yell and scream. Polite little children and it doesn't work for me.