What Makes an Education Catholic?
Series: The Labor of Christian Education
Imagine that you meet up with a friend and begin discussing the “state of things” in the world right now. Part way into the conversation, one of you says that the schools are messed up and that you no longer trust other people to educate your future or current children. Your friend mentions that it’s technology, too, and especially social media. This eventually leads to the idea of a homestead, where you and your friend (and perhaps a few others) will retreat to several acres of property and raise children who actually have an imagination, which so many children today seem to lack. Does this sound familiar?
I have had this exact conversation countless times in the last three years. My husband Nolan and I have played with the idea ourselves. If we found a property with a few acres, could we buy it? How successful could we be raising livestock and growing vegetables? Should we heat whatever house we build through a wood-burning stove? Have we become doomsday preppers?
At first, I didn’t share my idea with most people because I thought it would seem too outlandish. But I realized we weren’t insane at all. In fact, people from every area of my life seemed to have the same idea. When I told my parents we were hoping to get a couple acres one day and grow some of our own food, my dad told me that he was trying to see how close he could come to living off the land on their small half-acre. When my husband brought up the idea of a homestead on our yearly extended family camping trip, his older cousins were totally on board with buying a larger property and all building on it for the same purpose. My in-laws said they would want to join, as well. My old high school friends told me it was something they were thinking about, and that if we ever had a homestead, would I tutor their children please? At this point, Nolan and I have about twenty people who want to buy a joint property, grow food, raise livestock, and homeschool their kids. We’ve created a little village in our heads where we won’t have to rely on the outside world, and where our kids could grow up without being so heinously targeted by social media and twisted school systems.
Discussing the implications and realities of this lifestyle is an article for another time. What I want to explore is how I can help students in my classroom to grow imaginations and a love for the Lord without believing that the only possible solution is a homeschooling homestead.
Over the last few years, parents have taken a more critical look at the education their children receive at public schools. As a result, Catholic schools received a boost in attendance. Many parents initially made the switch because Catholic schools were the only organizations daring to allow children into their buildings for the 2020-2021 school year. Other parents surely saw the uptick in criticism of public school curriculum blowing across social media; particularly the parents showing up to school board meetings with startling examples of what was being taught to their children.
Needless to say, it’s unlikely that such a boost has come from parents’ sudden desire to instill Catholic teaching into their children. In fact, the cynical part of me wonders if so many parents would have made the switch at all were their local Catholic school boldly upholding doctrinal truths in all their glory.
I am very fortunate to be teaching at a school that provides a solid foundation for its teachers to incorporate the Catholic faith seamlessly into the classroom. Nolan and I have always wanted to homeschool our future children. However, if we decided not to, we would send our children to the school where I teach. It is attached to our parish, and before applying for my position, our priest explained that his priority was to find authentically Catholic teachers. My time as a substitute showed me that the school’s desire to build a solid Catholic foundation was legitimate. For a long while, I was thinking that most Catholic schools had become just as corrupt as public schools. On the contrary, my school has shown me a good example of Catholic education, and it has changed my views on the efficacy of Catholic school as a choice for my future children. I am going to list a few practices my school has that set the Catholic foundation. I will italicize the practices that never occurred at the Catholic high school I attended.
Daily prayer together in the morning, before and after lunch, and at the end of the day
Daily readings are read by students on the announcements every morning
Special intentions are offered each morning in homeroom
Phones and smart watches must be powered off and left in homeroom all day
Students and teachers attend Mass together every Friday
Students are trained as sacristans, altar servers, lectors, and cantors for Masses
Each classroom has a crucifix and a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Each classroom has a prayer table
Teachers are required, by contract, to represent the Catholic faith to its fullest
Teachers acknowledge, by contract, that our first responsibility is it bring our students closer to Christ
Of these last two I am uncertain—I’m sure those are terms included in all Archdiocesan schools, but looking back, I am surprised at how few of these practices occurred in my Catholic school. Now that I am older and actually practicing my faith without my parents reminding me to, I can see that these elements should be the minimum at Catholic schools. These should be present in any school that claims to be Catholic, even if only 50% of their student body is practicing. Frankly, even a school that enacts all these standards can still avoid what I believe to be the true essence of Catholic education: wonder. Wonder is ultimately what people are searching for when they consider retreating to a homestead with other families. They seek a world that is not so distracted by politics and the pressures of social media, but one that focuses on beauty and the pursuit of wisdom.
Going into my first year as a full-time teacher at a Catholic school, I considered how I might achieve the true essence of Catholic education in my classroom. I found that my subject, ELA (English Language Arts), was a subject natural to this pursuit. Literature may very well be at the forefront of the fight against insanity. Without a complete upheaval of the way we think of education in general, there is only so much the administration can do to make a school Catholic. That leaves it to the teachers—like me—to create a Catholic classroom and to format lessons with the goal of instilling wonder in children rather than destroying it.
During the first week of the school year, I started off by asking my seventh-graders why they think they have to take my class. After getting a few sarcastic answers out of the way, one of them said,
“Because ELA is one of those subjects you have to take every year.”
“But why do we have you take it every year?” I asked.
“Because it’s important,” another student said.
“Why is it important?” I insisted. A moment of silence.
“We read and write every day, even after we finish school,” came the answer from the back of the room. Exactly right! I displayed a slide presentation titled The Importance of Learning to Write that gave five primary reasons for my class: imagination, thinking, communication, influence, and reflection. In the course of the lesson, we talked about how reading and writing can help you become better at each of these. I also asked students why becoming better at each of these is important. On the last slide, I students reflected on how they will use reading and writing in their future vocations or careers. They could all come up with answers—even the ones who are going to become professional athletes (because they will need to read and revise contracts, of course). At Back to School night, I had parents coming up to me who said their children told them about this lesson. They said that their children actually seemed excited about their ELA class for once.
I have only been in school for three weeks, but I have one other example I want to share about an area where I have incorporated the faith into a lesson. I decided to assign a short project to introduce the concept of etymology. In the future, I plan to use etymology during our vocabulary lessons to provide some background on the history of language. This week, students had to discover the meanings of their names. Most students discovered that their names originated within their cultural or religious heritage. This links them to their ancestry and traditions, something I think is important in creating a sense of wonder about the world. Another part of the project was to ask their parents why they chose that specific name. This brings parents further into their child’s education, which is something I hope to do consistently. As important as teachers are, parents are meant to be the first teachers. Any time I can encourage a conversation between parent and child, the more wonder is invoked for all parties involved. Finally, in the presentation of this project, I mentioned parts of the Bible where people’s names were changed. I explained that names only change in the Bible for or by God, and that a name change would have been a very important reflection of a change in purpose. We also discussed the significance of the sacraments where a new name is taken, particularly Confirmation and Marriage.
I learned an important lesson during my presentation of this etymology project: most of my students were not comfortable with or confident in discussing the faith. I got the impression that religion, for them, was isolated to religion class once a day. I am more determined than ever to bring the Catholic faith into my classes as frequently as I can. The Bible has incredible examples of storytelling, poetry, imagery, metaphors, similes, personification, and characterization. Further, I intend to choose more texts written by Catholic authors for future lessons. Although the Archdiocese gives teachers a lot of creative license, most schools end up employing many of the same texts that are used in public schools; and anyone who has taught in public school knows that they avoid the Catholics at all cost, which means the parts of curriculum that mention Catholicism usually don’t have anything good to say.
My goal as a seventh-grade ELA teacher has shifted in these first few weeks of school. At first, I thought I was meant to teach the students about how to identify literary elements and figurative language. I thought I was meant to teach them how to write academic papers so that they would be successful (a vague concept, really). Now, my goal is to show them that there is a great mystery in the world to be discovered—literature and writing are just the vehicles we are using to get there.
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