In Between Worlds: My Boarding School Odyssey

In 1968, I was sixteen years old and looking forward to my junior year at St. Vincent De Paul Diocesan High School in Wayne, New Jersey. My school uniform included a plaid pleated skirt, a white blouse, kelly-green blazer, knee socks, and black and white saddle shoes. Like most of my peers, I rolled my skirt up as soon as I was out of sight from my parents’ house.

My parents, who immigrated from Ireland, were strict disciplinarians; I was the oldest and only girl-child. So, I was surprised when I told my mom I wanted to color my raven-black hair with Nice and Easy dark auburn. She said “yes” and overcame my father’s objections when he said “no”.

I’d begun wearing false eyelashes and charcoal colored eye liner on my upper and

lower eye lids. The British model, Twiggy, was popular and I endeavored to copy her look. I had a throwaway paper dress; a precursor indication of Toffler’s “Future Shock.” I just didn’t realize how rapidly and soon my life would change. Looking back, I still feel the same. I cannot recall seeing any signs or omens of what was about to occur. I definitely had a “Future Shock” change in my life.

Most nights, I hid away, awake, in my second-floor dormer room, reading books—any book, fiction or non-fiction sufficed. At three a.m. my dad would be up to make the drive from New Jersey to New York City. When I heard him moving around downstairs, I turned my bedside lamp off and hid under the covers with a flashlight because if he saw my light, he’d yell up the stairs, “turn that light off.”

My bedroom walls were plastered with posters of the Beatles, the Dave Clark Five, and my heart throb, the Monkees’ Peter Tork. The small white radio on my bedside table was tuned to WMCA, an AM radio station that played all the current hits. I remember reading Bronte’s “Jane Eyre” while I listened to the Four Tops sing “Bernadette”. To this day, whenever I hear that song, I think of Jane, Rochester, and their love story.

 

"I just didn’t realize how rapidly and soon my life would change. Looking back, I still feel the same. I cannot recall seeing any signs or omens of what was about to occur. "

Piano Practice for Boarding Students (1)

Martin Luther King, and Robert Kennedy were assassinated during my sophomore year at De Paul. John F. Kennedy had been assassinated when I was in the eighth grade. My life seemed to be filled with deaths and the mourning of figures I’d never met but were role models for something I believed in—freedom.

On weekends, I worked in a local bakery and then, without warning, my parents announced the family holiday to Ireland. My mom was from County Mayo; my dad from County Cork. Culottes were fashionable so I wore my favorite brown culotte with a matching jacket for my passport picture. I loved how my eye liner looked in the photo.

I knew I was different. I didn’t quite fit in with all the neighborhood girls because my parents didn’t allow me to mix but I was happy with myself and what I thought was my freedom as I read books, listened to the Kinks sing “Lola”, colored my hair, and tried my best to look like Twiggy. In hindsight, I never had an opportunity to say good-bye to that teenager before her life and freedom as she knew it ended. If I met her today, I’d tell her how beautiful she was, continue forging her path, and “just be yourself.”

Holiday in Ireland

Soon after my parents announced the trip, I was in Ireland and excited to pal around with several of my cousins. Three of the boy cousins were members of a show band that performed at local dance halls, one of which was called the Gaiety Dance Hall, near Westport, in County Mayo. I attended many of the dances with the band and was flattered when boys asked me to dance. I went on my first date with a handsome guy who was about two years older than I was. He was the first boy I kissed; his name was Michael Rice.

In that short month’s holiday, I’d transitioned from the shy sixteen-year-old sequestered in her room who read and disappeared to wherever the books took her. I was in a new world and then, my mother informed me I would be attending boarding school at St. Joseph’s Convent of Mercy in Castlebar, County Mayo while she, my dad, and two brothers returned to the U.S.

The holiday was over and I was not returning to my dormer room or my school or my music. My sixteen-year-old self didn’t realize what impact my staying and my family’s leaving would have on me.

I’m sad for that girl and I wonder if she just hid her sadness away and bravely honored her mother’s request to remain behind. I can’t help but wonder what my life would have been if that Martha had returned to her junior year at De Paul High School. In those days, proms were not a thing in Ireland. Looking back, I know one thing for sure—I would have been to a prom and even today I feel like I missed something important by not ever going to a prom.

My First Irish Boyfriend
My First Irish Boyfriend

"In that short month... I’d transitioned from the shy sixteen-year-old... I was in a new world and then, my mother informed me I would be attending boarding school at St. Joseph’s Convent of Mercy in Castlebar, County Mayo."

The Boarding School Days

Boarding school (the Lawn). Photo courtesy of The Lawrence Collection, circa 1900.
Boarding school (the Lawn). Photo courtesy of The Lawrence Collection, circa 1900.

We “boarders” slept, ate, and did our homework in study halls in a building called the “lawn”. Once you entered past the heavy cast iron gates leading to the lawn you didn’t leave again until the holidays. Our all-girls high school building, where classes were held, was on the other side of an imposing, granite, stone wall. When I read the Harry Potter series, the description of Hogwarts Castle reminded me of the lawn. Unlike Hogwarts however, enchantments weren’t used to keep the boarders confined. Instead, there was a tunnel which led from the lawn underground into the school yard and vice-versa at the end of the school day. So, a parent had no need to worry about any “boarder” getting loose into the town.

Except—two of the boarders were dating my cousin and one of his friends. So, after a holiday break, we three girls plotted to meet up with the boys and mitch school for the day. We went to some hamburger and chip place called Wimpy’s on Castle Street, just a stone’s throw from the cast-iron school gates. We spent most of the day in Wimpy’s, sitting in a booth at the back, and playing the Beatles “Hey Jude” music on the juke box. At some point in the afternoon, we girls broke away and headed up to the lawn before the gates closed. That evening, Sister Agnes, whom I loved dearly, cornered me. Her brilliantly icy blue eyes bored into mine as she said, “What would your mother say if she knew about your behavior?” I never mitched again.

 

However, if mitching school wasn’t enough to get me into deep trouble there was the mysterious case of swearing in my sleep. Who knew I was such a cuss bucket? Apparently, moving from my cozy dormer bedroom in New Jersey to a dormitory room, where I slept on a single bed with a wooden locker for my belongings was quite the shock to my system. I understood Sister Mary, whom we called “Sponge” because she cried so easily, was quite bereaved when I sat up in my bed and told everyone to “F’ off”. I don’t remember ever being a girl who swore but the other inmates in my cell block informed me of my behavior the following morning.

However, I had many opportunities to petition God’s forgiveness for my potty mouth. We “boarders” didn’t have yearbooks but we did have annual spiritual retreats. During the retreats, the nuns gave us prayer cards to study and reflect upon. The boarders wrote notes and prayers to each other and exchanged them with love. I still remember this sweet ritual with fondness. Who needs a year book when you have a stack of prayer cards filled with good intentions for your life?

That evening, Sister Agnes, whom I loved dearly, cornered me. Her brilliantly icy blue eyes bored into mine as she said, “What would your mother say if she knew about your behavior?” I never mitched again.

View from Our Rooms

In thinking about those innocent days, I see that sixteen-year-old Martha was still just as lonely as she’d been when she was in her dormer room. If I were to meet up with her today, I’d tell her to keep in touch with the authors of the prayer cards. In hindsight, I regret that I didn’t do that and so when I left boarding school, I didn’t take any friendships with me to carry me through life.

Life in a boarding school didn’t include dances, dating, or as I’ve already mentioned a prom. We boarders had most of our fun when the sisters escorted us for a walk on a Sunday. We’d dash into a shop and buy a bag of crisps and chocolate. Some of us were able to get our hands on cigarettes which we smoked late at night after we had crawled from our beds into an empty room off the dormitory. Until one night when Sister Agnes heard us and came out of her cell to find the culprits. I ran, fell against my bedside chair, and oops, chipped one of my front teeth.

The two years in boarding school passed quickly. My days were filled with school and study. In the evening, we’d return to the lawn, and after a meal, we’d be in a study hall reading, writing, and practicing piano. We’d go to bed, lights out, and we’d do it all over again.

That part of my life is filled with many fond memories especially of my mother’s siblings. Eventually, two years after arriving in Ireland for a month’s holiday, I returned to the United States. In hindsight, I lost some of the freedoms I’d enjoyed when I was sixteen. But at eighteen, my success in university was mostly due to the study habits developed during my boarding school years.

 

Prayer Card Message from Fellow Student
Prayer Card Message from Fellow Student
My baby brother and me several years after boarding school.
My baby brother and me several years after boarding school.

Over the years, each time I traveled to County Mayo, I visited Sister Agnes in the convent. She always fed me queen cakes. One year, she presented me with a set of white rosary beads in a plain brown case which says “My Rosary” on the outside. I still carry those beads in my purse; they’ve been all over the world with me.

I’m older now and still love to travel to Ireland and walk the same places I walked and visited so many years ago. At sixteen, I didn’t realize I’d build my life and values on my teenage experiences. Recently though, I’ve begun to cultivate the girl who stayed up at night in her dormer room, dreaming of being a writer. I’m reading more at night, adding dark color to emphasize my salt and pepper hair, and applying black eyeliner to my upper and lower lids. Perhaps culottes will come back into fashion again and I’ll know then I’ve come full circle to fully embrace the girl who went to boarding school for two years when she was sixteen.