Each day of the first eight years of my academic career began in church. My classmates and I would file into rigid pews, effortlessly recite verses and liturgical responses nearly unconsciously, and quietly endure an hourlong ritual by, admittedly, going through the motions.
Taking communion, going to confession, memorizing the Apostles’ Creed — all of these things were as much a part of my educational experience as learning to read and write. Prized just as highly as honor roll designation for high academic achievement was the Peacemaker award for exemplification of Christian values.
Of course, identical uniforms for all students were mandatory, but adherence to a disciplinary order parochial schools are known for went far beyond that. Morning and afternoon prayers were never missed, enforced community service hours were the norm and a student slipping out "Oh my God" was as punishable as any other of the myriad profanities in a sixth-grade vocabulary.
Then came Catholic high school, and the trend continued. Mine was particularly liberal for a private religious institution, but the Catholic religion was nonetheless paramount in mission and in practice.
Some would say an upbringing like mine would almost necessarily indoctrinate any student, however strong-willed, into the religion being preached day in and day out. Even more would say that at the very least, a student exposed to Christian values — and only Christian values — for the entirety of the impressionable first 18 years of life would be hard-pressed to identify strongly with a different belief system or to dismiss the one he was raised under.
This is simply not the case.
I am living, breathing proof that the fundamental tenets of organized Catholicism are subject to scrutiny and criticism even for those who lived and learned under them for almost two decades. For as many of my high school classmates who still regularly practice their faith after leaving religious schooling, I know just as many who have since re-evaluated their beliefs and decided on a different path.
Although I am sure it would pain some of my grade school teachers to hear it, I am one of those former Catholic school kids who — despite being a faithful person — has joined in the critique of organized religion. That being said, I am extremely grateful to my parents for having put me through Catholic private schooling and would have to be strongly convinced not to do the same if I have children.
Whether a Catholic school student will forever follow the organized practices of the faith is less important than whether the Christian values provided by an educational experience, based on that faith, offer a benefit notably absent in other areas of our society.
Arguments in favor of Catholic schools as more academically rigorous and financially endowed aside, a religious school demands what few other social institutions consistently provide: a profound sense of community and social responsibility.
A 1993 study published by Anthony Bryk, Valerie Lee and Peter Holland sought to examine exactly that, asking, "What was it about Catholic schools that fostered engagement in students and commitment in teachers?" What they identified were the communal aspects of the schools’ organization, which were centered on a set of shared values and a sense of shared activities.
The researchers further tested for "social closure," an internal focus that mistrusts the external, which is a danger critics of Catholic schooling warn is an inevitable outcome when one set of beliefs is consistently espoused among like-minded people. According to the study, and according to my anecdotal evidence, Catholic schools are in reality very diverse in terms of views and cultures represented and studied.
To be sure, schooling involves much more than the transmission of knowledge and the development of intellectual skills necessary for critiquing that knowledge. In the most fundamental sense, education necessarily includes the formation of a basic disposition for responsible citizenship in our democratic and pluralistic society. As the Bryk study put it, "if [schools] are to teach children how they should live in common, they must themselves be communities."
Private religious schools, in my experience, embody exactly that.
In an increasingly secularized world based on competition and material gain, a religious education can provide an invaluable balance in terms of personal values.
And, contrary to what would be immediately assumed, a religious education teaches a kind of tolerance valued in modern society both morally and socially. As rudimentary as it sounds, I learned to cope with unfavorable situations by tolerating a half-hour sermon on an uncomfortable wooden pew every day of my young life.
There is a reason why more and more non-religious parents are choosing religious schooling for their children. While factors such as academic rigor and safe environments are sometimes part of that decision, the values offered by a religious education are often an equally important product.
Kate Maternowski ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in English.