Today, we had a guest pastor at Sunday Mass. The priest who gave the homily is a young, energetic, dynamic speaker whose sermons I almost always enjoy. He was there today for one main reason - to advocate for Catholic Schools.
I adore the idea of Catholic schools. I love the idea of my children being taught faith in conjunction with general education; the idea that they get a holy and holistic education. In theory, Catholic schools are wonderful and I will support always those who choose to send their children; I will also monetarily support them through giving any day of the week. I love hearing the homily during Catholic Schools Week because the priests usually focus on the JOY of teaching little ones and how much they appreciate all the amazing people who contribute to the success of their schools.
Today, friends, I struggled to sit through that homily. Not just because of the wiggly bodies next to me, which is the usual reason for my distraction. Today I struggled because the priest said in his homily that Catholic parents don't take their promise at their child's baptism seriously enough; if they did, they would send their children to Catholic school. Public schools are "ok" at teaching knowledge, but only Catholic schools will teach them faith. According to him, public schools are a dangerous place for kids to be and parents who choose public schools are failing their children. They are putting their children's souls at risk. Teaching them and modeling the faith at home is simply not good enough. Sending them to public school is shirking your parental responsibilities as a Catholic.
My single mother, tight income, already unworthy feeling heart sunk. You see, I'd heard words like that before.
First, I heard them from my parents as I begged for years to be sent to a public school because I felt isolated and alone at the Catholic school I attended for 8 years. I didn't have school friends that I trusted until I finally attended public junior high and for the first time ever met girls who were kind and open and caring. It took years for me to deal with that inner turmoil. I still don't ever quite trust that the people who are my friends really would choose me if they had better things to do. It's a burden I'll likely deal with for the rest of my life. Without the strong example of my parents at home, it's likely that my experience in the Catholic school system may have actually turned me away from the Catholic faith.
The next time I heard it was when I was about to get married. I believed it then, but was adamant that if my kids attended Catholic school that they NOT attend the one I did. After my divorce, my ex-husband and I couldn't afford to send our girls to the school we had chosen and decided to send them to public school. The first few years went really well.
The third time I'd heard it was really the hardest one. It was the hardest because despite taking my children every week to Mass and faith formation classes, despite trying my hardest to pray with them at home, despite passing down knowledge and faith traditions to them, despite doing my very best to be a model, fallen as I am, of Jesus's love and mercy, despite volunteering to teach catechism at my parish, I was told that I didn't care about my children's faith or their education because I wouldn't send them to Catholic school. I was told that, despite my daughter loving her teacher and wanting to go to school every day, public school was "borderline abusive". I was told this by the same person who had agreed to send them to public school several years earlier because the cost had been too high.
Maybe I don't have to describe how devastating that is for a person who is already stretched and pouring from an empty cup to hear. I won't try to here, because I honestly don't know that I can. I can tell you that I cried. That I questioned whether or not I was worthy to be the mother of these beautiful babies. That after years of struggling with depression and being told I wasn't fit to have my children, I took it to heart.
I couldn't afford it, but that isn't the only consideration. My oldest daughter was settled and when I suggested moving to a Catholic school, she became upset because she didn't want to change schools. Not only that, but my two little ones attended preschool at a Catholic school and I was feeling left out and inadequate. I wasn't the mother who could go to all the meetings in the evenings or go visit their classroom or eat lunches with them during the day or volunteer for the events/bake sales/breakfasts/carnivals. I was already drowning. I couldn't keep up. Every other mother had the privilege of financial, emotional, and physical support from their spouse, a privilege that I hadn't had in years. Once again, I felt like I didn't belong.
It's worth noting that I also teach at a public school. And though I don't teach my students about faith, I don't think that I or the other amazing teachers by my side only teach them knowledge. I teach my students how to let music move them. I teach them about being kind and compassionate. I teach them to solve their own problems and I try to teach them respect. But, just like in a Catholic school, my students learn more about those things at home than a school can counteract. And Catholic schools won't take a student with learning, behavioral, developmental, or physical disabilities because they don't have the resources to teach those students. But those students deserve to be surrounded by people who love them and work hard for them, too.
Christ is in our schools, whether we teach Him explicitly or not. He's there when, as teachers, we huddle together and pray for our sick co-worker; He's there when we hug a child who doesn't get hugged at home; He's there when we celebrate our students' joys and successes, and when we mourn their losses with them; He's there when a group of 4th graders organize to raise money for a school in another state that was destroyed by a fire; He's there when I send Him with my children to school in the morning; He's there on the cross I wear around my neck.
Yes, these are dangerous times. Yes, our children are exposed to more than ever before, earlier than ever before. If you can send your child to Catholic school and that is the best choice for you and your family, I think that's wonderful. I truly do - God bless those children, God bless their parents, and God bless the teachers and staff who love them. But I'm writing this for the moms and dads, who for whatever varied reasons chose public school for your kids: You are not failing your children. You are not tossing aside the promise you made at your child's baptism. It is not a school's job to teach your children faith - IT IS YOURS and you can raise saints without sending them to Catholic School.
Advocate for Catholic schools. They can be wonderful places of faith and growth and love. But please remember, that advocating for your school doesn't need to mean coming down on those who had to make different choices. Loving Catholic schools doesn't have to mean putting down public schools and the work they do to enrich and grow the lives of all students, not just Christian ones. For all those out there bringing Christ to their children, be it in the Catholic school or out of it, thank you and may God watch over you and them.
P.S. - As Fr Mike Schmitz recently said, our primary job is not to protect our children; our primary job is to make them courageous.
I adore the idea of Catholic schools. I love the idea of my children being taught faith in conjunction with general education; the idea that they get a holy and holistic education. In theory, Catholic schools are wonderful and I will support always those who choose to send their children; I will also monetarily support them through giving any day of the week. I love hearing the homily during Catholic Schools Week because the priests usually focus on the JOY of teaching little ones and how much they appreciate all the amazing people who contribute to the success of their schools.
Today, friends, I struggled to sit through that homily. Not just because of the wiggly bodies next to me, which is the usual reason for my distraction. Today I struggled because the priest said in his homily that Catholic parents don't take their promise at their child's baptism seriously enough; if they did, they would send their children to Catholic school. Public schools are "ok" at teaching knowledge, but only Catholic schools will teach them faith. According to him, public schools are a dangerous place for kids to be and parents who choose public schools are failing their children. They are putting their children's souls at risk. Teaching them and modeling the faith at home is simply not good enough. Sending them to public school is shirking your parental responsibilities as a Catholic.
My single mother, tight income, already unworthy feeling heart sunk. You see, I'd heard words like that before.
First, I heard them from my parents as I begged for years to be sent to a public school because I felt isolated and alone at the Catholic school I attended for 8 years. I didn't have school friends that I trusted until I finally attended public junior high and for the first time ever met girls who were kind and open and caring. It took years for me to deal with that inner turmoil. I still don't ever quite trust that the people who are my friends really would choose me if they had better things to do. It's a burden I'll likely deal with for the rest of my life. Without the strong example of my parents at home, it's likely that my experience in the Catholic school system may have actually turned me away from the Catholic faith.
The next time I heard it was when I was about to get married. I believed it then, but was adamant that if my kids attended Catholic school that they NOT attend the one I did. After my divorce, my ex-husband and I couldn't afford to send our girls to the school we had chosen and decided to send them to public school. The first few years went really well.
The third time I'd heard it was really the hardest one. It was the hardest because despite taking my children every week to Mass and faith formation classes, despite trying my hardest to pray with them at home, despite passing down knowledge and faith traditions to them, despite doing my very best to be a model, fallen as I am, of Jesus's love and mercy, despite volunteering to teach catechism at my parish, I was told that I didn't care about my children's faith or their education because I wouldn't send them to Catholic school. I was told that, despite my daughter loving her teacher and wanting to go to school every day, public school was "borderline abusive". I was told this by the same person who had agreed to send them to public school several years earlier because the cost had been too high.
Maybe I don't have to describe how devastating that is for a person who is already stretched and pouring from an empty cup to hear. I won't try to here, because I honestly don't know that I can. I can tell you that I cried. That I questioned whether or not I was worthy to be the mother of these beautiful babies. That after years of struggling with depression and being told I wasn't fit to have my children, I took it to heart.
I couldn't afford it, but that isn't the only consideration. My oldest daughter was settled and when I suggested moving to a Catholic school, she became upset because she didn't want to change schools. Not only that, but my two little ones attended preschool at a Catholic school and I was feeling left out and inadequate. I wasn't the mother who could go to all the meetings in the evenings or go visit their classroom or eat lunches with them during the day or volunteer for the events/bake sales/breakfasts/carnivals. I was already drowning. I couldn't keep up. Every other mother had the privilege of financial, emotional, and physical support from their spouse, a privilege that I hadn't had in years. Once again, I felt like I didn't belong.
It's worth noting that I also teach at a public school. And though I don't teach my students about faith, I don't think that I or the other amazing teachers by my side only teach them knowledge. I teach my students how to let music move them. I teach them about being kind and compassionate. I teach them to solve their own problems and I try to teach them respect. But, just like in a Catholic school, my students learn more about those things at home than a school can counteract. And Catholic schools won't take a student with learning, behavioral, developmental, or physical disabilities because they don't have the resources to teach those students. But those students deserve to be surrounded by people who love them and work hard for them, too.
Christ is in our schools, whether we teach Him explicitly or not. He's there when, as teachers, we huddle together and pray for our sick co-worker; He's there when we hug a child who doesn't get hugged at home; He's there when we celebrate our students' joys and successes, and when we mourn their losses with them; He's there when a group of 4th graders organize to raise money for a school in another state that was destroyed by a fire; He's there when I send Him with my children to school in the morning; He's there on the cross I wear around my neck.
Yes, these are dangerous times. Yes, our children are exposed to more than ever before, earlier than ever before. If you can send your child to Catholic school and that is the best choice for you and your family, I think that's wonderful. I truly do - God bless those children, God bless their parents, and God bless the teachers and staff who love them. But I'm writing this for the moms and dads, who for whatever varied reasons chose public school for your kids: You are not failing your children. You are not tossing aside the promise you made at your child's baptism. It is not a school's job to teach your children faith - IT IS YOURS and you can raise saints without sending them to Catholic School.
Advocate for Catholic schools. They can be wonderful places of faith and growth and love. But please remember, that advocating for your school doesn't need to mean coming down on those who had to make different choices. Loving Catholic schools doesn't have to mean putting down public schools and the work they do to enrich and grow the lives of all students, not just Christian ones. For all those out there bringing Christ to their children, be it in the Catholic school or out of it, thank you and may God watch over you and them.
P.S. - As Fr Mike Schmitz recently said, our primary job is not to protect our children; our primary job is to make them courageous.
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