Pushed Over the Edge

We were a bad class. All the lay teachers and nuns said it was so. We did not listen. We were disrespectful. We acted out.

And to that end I am sure that is why Sister Felice brought in Sister Grace to be our 7^th grade teacher. Sister Felice, the principal at Sacred Heart Elementary School, had good intentions. She thought Sister Grace could whip us into submission.

But Sister Grace, while a good conduit of factual information, had a sadistic streak. She was manipulative and sarcastic and derived pleasure from belittling her students. And so instead of reforming the class, her punishments only served to worsen already bad behavior.

Samantha came home from high school excited to tell me what had transpired in her honors Chemistry class that day. The teacher, who imparted textbook information well and was unquestionably easy on the eyes, had finally been maddened beyond mad by his classroom of ordinarily well behaved community-conscious scholarly students--students who had had enough of the teacher and therefore felt compelled to demonstrate their frustration. And so a top 10 academic organized a “book-drop.” At exactly 11 am every student would push their weighty Chemistry text on to the floor in a cacophonous expression of retaliation.

And the teachers’s fury post book-drop and the subsequent punishment elated the ordinarily non-rebellious students. They had finally managed to manipulate him. They had finally managed to de-oxygenate his control.

And on Ash Wednesday in 1973, Steven Kennedy organized a “Lenten Can” drop. When Sister Grace turned her back to write on the blackboard, after a silent 1-2-3, all 42 students dropped their aluminum Catholic Charities Collection bank off of their faux-wood Formica desk and onto the hard asbestos floor.

The noise was so loud that Sister Felice climbed the 2 flights of steps from her office to discover what (the hell) was going on.

And the punishment was severe but worth the crime---as was the punishment later that day for not reciting out loud our prayers at mass.

Because sometimes powerlessness is the master of provocation. Sometimes students are obligated to fire back after repeated assaults—they are pushed over the edge. Sometimes acting out loudly is better than pantomime.

And the Chemistry teacher at the high school is still teaching—but no other child of mine ever sat in a classroom with him again—I made sure of it.

And Sister Grace was let go amid whispers.

And everyone survived, despite the scars--- and with remembrance of the sweet sound of victory resounding in their ears.