Every time I read about the dismal state of public education across America, I revisit my parochial school days.
First off, let me be clear: I hated Catholic school! Being taught by nuns, was no fun. Mostly humorless, by-the-book disciplinarians, they never missed an opportunity to humiliate under the guise of teaching a lesson.
No student was allowed to slide by or fall through the cracks. After all, that is precisely why my parents "sacrificed so much" to send their children to private school.
They wanted accountability and they got it. I also get it now.
By the time I reached eleventh grade, I switched over to public school, a decision for which my parents were none too pleased. But I was a restless teenager, so I chose to move on.
In English class, my peers were (still!) being taught what I learned in third grade: the differences between there, their and they're, here and hear, your and you're, know and no.
You get the idea.
Since the material was not new or challenging, eventually the teacher sent me to the library for individual study. It was there that I really learned. After one year in public school, it became crystal clear: I did get a better education at parochial school.
Fast forward to 2008. How often do we see misspelled words or typos on public signage, in memos (by management!) or elsewhere in our daily dealings with the world? Too often!
This is when I remember how fortunate I am to have had a private school education, one where the teachers didn't give any breaks or slack.
I had no choice but to learn. And learn, I did!
