Catholic Nun Mafia

I’m Funny How

Patrick: You’re funny!
Sister Tommasina Devito: You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it’s me, but I’m funny how, I mean funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I’m here to amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?
Patrick: Just… you know, how you tell the story, what?
Sister Tommasina Devito: No, no, I don’t know, you said it. How do I know? You said I’m funny. How am I funny, what is so funny about me? Tell me, tell me what’s funny!

The Nun Mafia, a little known Catholic church faction rarely spoken about, was at its peak in the 1960′s, (When I attended school) and wielded almost as much power as the Pope (Godfather) himself. The Catholic nun was the absolute authority in the school. (You cross one of them, you cross all of them) A Catholic nun was always the principal (Don) of the school. The rest of them (Made Women) were teachers, tutors, hall monitors, munitions experts, and playground enforcers. More importantly, they controlled our Permanent Record.

The Nun mafia was far-reaching. Their power didn’t end at the school door exits but extended into the Catholic school child’s home life. A simple edit of our permanent record could cause catastrophic pain to your very soul, your money, and your ass. Perhaps not in that order, but almost always those three. (What is your Permanent Record? Every time a Catholic sinned, it would be recorded in your permanent record like a running tally of all the sins you committed in life. Then, when you died and went to the pearly gates to face Saint Peter, he would have all the ammunition he needed to send you to hell.)

If a child misbehaved, (Whispered in class, took to long in the bathroom, shirt not tucked all the way in, or smiled in a no smile zone) the nun acted immediately. You would be subjected to swift punishment in front of the entire class. Or what we liked to call, The Whack and Yack. The whack and yack consisted of being whacked by the nuns yard stick either across your hands or your ass several times, more intense if the sin was deemed severe. Then the child would receive a public humiliating tirade lecture on why Jesus is not happy with you  and  he is crying for the hideous sin you just committed. That was standard operating procedure for the nuns.

Now that your ass hurt and your soul ached, the third phase, the money phase, would be implemented. It was time to make the child feel remorse for the sin and want to atone for the damages to his soul. Or what we liked to call, (Extortion!) After said beating, the child would not be going outside for recess with the other children, but instead would have to stay behind for a private conference.

These conferences went something like this.
Nun: Patrick, you now know what you did earlier was a sin and that you had to be punished.
Patrick: Yes sister, I know.
Nun: Are you sorry for what you did?
Patrick: Yes sister, I am. (Sort of like, Thank you sir may I have another)
Nun: And how disruptive it was to the class and to the entire school?
Patrick: Yes sister, I know.
Nun: Will you ever commit that sin again?
Patrick: I hope not to sister. (Hold please, this is where they get you. Of course you are going to commit that exact same sin again, if you can call it a sin anyway, but they made you answer)
Nun: Perhaps after you go to confession this Saturday, you can add some extra money to your mass donation.
Patrick: Yes sister, I will. (A bold face lie!)
Nun: And in your student church envelope, maybe you can sacrifice a little more and add some extra money as well. Jesus needs it more than you do. It wasn’t enough that our parents gave a weekly church envelope, (Pay off) but the student had one as well. With our names emblazoned on the front.
Patrick: Yes sister, I will try. (Not in a million years you old fuck!)
Nun: OK, recess is almost over. You have just enough time to erase and wash the chalkboard before the next class.
Patrick: Yes sister. (Quietly imagining duct tape over her mouth, her hands tied, and me kicking her into a well so deep that not even Lassie could save her)

Soul, money, and ass. One, two, three. Absolution. That is how the Catholic Nun Mafia rolled in the 1960′s.

I wondered where that extra money the other students gave in their envelopes when they were subjected to the whack and yack. (I say other students because I never put an extra red cent in my envelope.) Every beginning school year, we would have to pledge (Payoff) an amount of money to give in our church envelopes. Did the sisters remove (Skim) the excess to further fund their organization? One can never be certain. However, they never seemed to lack or want for any tools or equipment needed.

The Catholic Nun Mafia affected more than just the students. It also affected the Parrish priests. And more importantly, the confessional. Everyone knew the Catholic priests were just as afraid of the nuns as the students were. (The Nuns knew everything that was going on in the school and church. Nothing ever got by them.) To avoid confrontation, and keep their secrets, we had it on good authority that they would inform the nuns of the juiciest sins the students committed so they (The Nuns) would have more leverage and play more psychological mind games. That’s why I always disguised my voice in the confessional, so the priest wouldn’t recognize me.

The other day I received a small package at my house. In the package was a chalk board eraser. Smeared in blood. With a note attached saying, “You can easily be erased!”

Amen!

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LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL