This I Believe

I Believe in Individuality

I once believed in catholic school uniforms: iron-pressed oxford shirts, thick cotton vests, plaid skirts that hung below the knees, and maroon socks that climbed up to them. I once believed that this was unity – that everyone who wore this outfit was one – together we stood in straight lines, together we sat in straight rows, and together we learned to walk the straight and narrow path of conformity.

I once believed in Jesus and conformity, not because it was my choice, but because I had been branded by my clothes. Every morning for 9 years of my catholic school life, my mother dressed me - like every other girl’s mother dressed her – in this uniform.

I remember on summer days when the sun shone through the windows on our covered bodies. We were all blazing; we were all suffering. One of those days, I decided that the unity of suffering was one that I wanted to forfeit. I decided to wear white socks. At first, I didn’t think much of this move, but as soon as I entered through the metal door I regretted my comfort. Without missing a beat, Sister Lisa marked me a traitor and sent me to the rectory to staple bulletins for Sunday’s Mass. Once again my clothing had branded me. This time I was forced to suffer Alone.

Most children are afraid of the word and the reality of Alone. I was one of those children until my sentence of paper and staples. I realized that alone time gave me a chance to think, a chance to form ideas about things that most catholic-born children rarely think about. I savored every inch of time between fingers and stapler, between paper and staple. This lonely sentence now forms the paragraphs of my belief.

I’m not sure Sister Lisa realized my reason for thin white socks. Stapling bulletins in a small air-conditioned room was not the most effective punishment for a 6th grade girl who just wanted to keep cool. I look back on this moment and chuckle at the irony. I had won. while everyone suffered May’s wrathful sun, I stapled papers in a lovely and artificial winter wonderland.

I once believed that conformity and oneness was for everyone. I once believed in Jesus and Sunday Mass and alter serving and Parish picnics and Reconciliation once a month. I also believed that leaders had to be older and wiser, but now I believe that they are rarely both.

I believe now that the sun shines on those who follow others and their rules, but I also believe that it can burn them. I shy away from the flaming sun. I am December’s child. I yearn for the touch of snow.

St. Veronica (an original song)