The Catholic Church’s “Other” Abuse
Trigger warning: This story discusses many forms of child abuse.
At St. Clement of Rome elementary school, I made friends with a boy named Brian. He had an mop of unruly blond hair and his teeth seemed too big for his mouth, making him look goofy. I remember black was his favorite color. My peers had unanimously agreed only blue or green were acceptable choices. Secretly, I thought him brave.
One day, Brian got in trouble for talking during a music lesson. Sister Bernadette made us sing church hymns, so no one took it seriously. Music was on the same level as art or gym, which the school drilled into us was not as crucial as English, and the holy of holies, Catechism. No doubt this is why Brian was talking.
We were on the cusp of puberty. It was the time of life where the good opinion of friends was of paramount importance. We noticed the opposite sex wasn’t entirely revolting as they had once been. To be embarrassed was death and everything embarrassed us.
As a punishment, this “bride of Christ” directed Brian to sing the hymn a cappella at the front of the class. He turned beet red and mumbled an apology in a desperate attempt to avoid his impending doom. It didn’t work. The nuns had taught us that only God grants mercy. Inwardly, I cringed because Brian, like…
