BishopAccountability.org
	'Suffer the Little Children' – My Torture Is Impossible to Forget Times & Star May 28, 2009 http://www.timesandstar.co.uk/home/suffer_the_little_children_my_torture_is_impossible_to_forget_1_560756?referrerPath=opinion MY SISTER rang me the other day to ask if we were going to sue. Her call had been prompted by the report into the fate of Irish children in Roman Catholic schools and institutions. I find it a difficult subject to discuss for all sorts of complex reasons which will become clear, but one of the major reasons is that I have seen such changes in the Catholic Church over the years. When I lived in New Zealand one of my dearest friends was a Catholic nun who was undoubtedly one of the most caring people I have ever known. The church, too, is so much more open than it once was. It is true, however, that there was a time when children certainly seemed to have little value, and my sisters and I experienced that at first hand. Along with a huge number of children from Zambia we were sent to a convent boarding school in South Africa because it was a small, private establishment and Catholic education was considered to be the finest. Our convent was run by the Sisters of the Assumption, an Irish-based order. Many of our nuns had come from Ireland, inspired, no doubt, by the thought of serving their Lord in darkest Africa. The reality must have been very different. Instead of caring for doe-eyed little African babies and dispensing charity to humbly grateful families, they were looking after and teaching materialistic little girls from usually reasonably affluent backgrounds. No matter what the colour of our skin or the socio-economic position of our parents, we were not prepared for the emotional and physical punishment that we endured. I tell myself and I tell my sisters that it was a different time; corporal punishment was considered normal and mental health was divided by being in an asylum or not being in one. The phrase "emotional well-being" had not been invented. I say this to try to excuse the nuns for what they did, and certainly I say it to protect my own mum and dad who thought, like so many other parents, that they were giving their children everything of the best. We didn't suffer like the kids we have heard about in recent years. There was certainly no sexual abuse, but we did suffer. And because of the term system and the distance from home, we suffered for all but three weeks in June and six weeks at Christmas, which were our summer holidays. The physical abuse was bad enough. We had one nun who would punch us in the arm with the knuckle of her forefinger. I remember my sister and her friend, then aged eight, being thrashed with a fibre-glass stick for talking to a boy, a neighbour from Zambia and my sister's friend's brother! There was an occasion when one nun, Sister Ignatius, took to me with a gym shoe, hitting me on the face, head, body, wherever she could, and continuing until she ran out of steam. When my middle sister and her friends were caught having a midnight feast towards the end of the school year, they were made to kneel for hours with their hands raised above their heads. Absolute torture for a completely minor infringement. But the mental cruelty was the worst. Being constantly told that you are no good, that you can never please God or man, means that you end up believing that you are useless and unworthy. That is a feeling that stays with you your whole life. Even now I can accept that God will forgive everyone's sins except mine because I am too evil and worthless. I didn't suffer as much as many because I had a rich and full fantasy life to which I could escape. For a start, I was the main character of every book that I read – and I read a lot! I also had this whole alternative life where I lived at Graceland with Elvis Presley and we would go to the Ponderosa ranch to visit the Cartwright family from Bonanza. I am embarrassed to tell you that life was as real to me as the convent itself. We also had good nuns. There were the ones who would let us go to an Elvis movie, or would actually listen when you talked. There were the young ones who were as sick for home as we were. There was even Mother Bartholomew who did NOT expel me when I ran away to join the circus. Sadly, individuals in positions of huge trust and responsibility failed not only their church and their God, but also the many thousands of children in their care. And that is a tragedy.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.