Memory

One of these days, I plan to write about new beginnings, starting all over again... about globalization, family, the village and the internet.  Every time our family moved, it was both a blessing and a curse.  It was an opportunity to start over again, to try something different, be a different "me" than I had been before.  It also meant that nobody knew where I was coming from, or why something might be meaningful to me.

My first high school was Mercy High School, in Omaha, Nebraska.  An all-girls private liberal arts Catholic high school run by the Sisters of Mercy.  I was there for two years, transferring to a public school just in time for my Junior year of high school.  But today I want to talk about Mercy.

Choosing a high school

As I reached 7th grade, I wasn't sure what my parent's plans were for high school.  I knew money was getting tighter as my parents went back to school, and they now had 4 of us in Catholic school.  I half expected them to switch me to the public schools after I graduated from St. Mary's.

My mother did that, she went to a Catholic primary school and then to Hamilton Southeastern High School.  One of her brothers was chosen to attend a Catholic high school.  I wonder, now, if that influenced her.  If Mom wanted me to have an opportunity that she was denied.  I know sometimes I want that for my son.

My parents asked for my input.  If I were to go to a Catholic school, where did I want to go?

Careful what you assume

Sometimes I think I could do a lot worse, than be the person I was in junior high.  Running around playing tag with my neighbors, and such.  I was a long way from perfect, and did some things wrong.  But here's something that I did right.