Betsy Kneepkens: Catholic schools saved a broken childhood

Faith and Family 

A few months back, my article mentioned the family struggles we had while my mother was in the end stages of her life. Admittedly, I was not close to my mother, and we never did have much of a relationship. We did not fight; there were no apparent signs or actions of disrespect, and I am not sure we ever had any significant conflicts. I followed what my parents wanted me to do, much like every kid I knew. In short, there is no reasonable explanation for the disconnect between my mother and me; the circumstances were what they were. My mother was intentionally connected to several siblings, and I was happy about that. 

I surmise the Holy Spirit had something to do with the fact that the two daughters my mother was least in a relationship with were the ones providing the bedside vigil until her earthly end. We were grateful we had this time with our mother. While there, I had the opportunity to visit with my siblings as they dropped in. There were several brothers and sisters I hadn’t seen in years, for some even decades. We talked about old times. 

My siblings retold childhood stories, and we laughed, and occasionally someone would admit to some mischievous behavior that previously was an untold mystery. Many of the stories took me back to my childhood home and the days my brothers and sisters played all day. 

Unfortunately, our stories weren’t all good. I don’t recall us ever discussing our childhood in such depth before, and some of it was like putting pieces of a puzzle together. I learned things I either didn’t remember, wanted to forget, or had never heard before. 

I have often referred to my Catholic upbringing as essential. We had to attend Mass, receive the sacraments, and pray before meals. We certainly knew where the Catholic moral lines were, and the older of the 13 were much more adherent to the rules than the younger kids. 

In the past, I have described my upbringing as crazy, chaotic, and out of control. In today’s standards, which are different, it would be considered unhealthy, dysfunctional, and poorly parented. As all the siblings gathered to visit my mother over her last few weeks, we discussed this situation repeatedly. For the most part, as children, we were clueless about anything unusual because we thought our family experiences were like everyone else’s. 

Although our childhood was difficult and wounded, most of my siblings are in solid marriages, raising exceptional children who have grown into adults. There were two things, even in our dysfunction, that my parents agreed were priorities: being Catholic and attending Catholic schools. All 13 children attended Catholic schools for most of their education, and we all went to college. Looking back, our positive generational outcome is a statistical miracle. In other words, my brothers and sisters are not repeating the same parental mistakes as our parents. 

While we had time together, as brothers and sisters, we discussed why we didn’t become our parents’ behavior. We had many varying opinions, but the one thought or point of view that most of us agreed upon was that our Catholic school upbringing was the difference-maker, even for those who no longer practice their faith. We shared story after story on how the teachers, staff, and sisters always filled in the gap when our parents faltered. 

Somehow, our difficulties at our Catholic schools (we attended many different schools) taught us compassionate resilience. While reflecting, my siblings shared stories about how school staff seemed to know when things were rocky at our house. We were not coddled; we were given ways to problem-solve and cooperate to overcome hardship. They let us see that the situation was the challenge and that we are the children of God, and that separated us from being “the” problem. 

We talked about how the school culture shaped us into knowing our identity was not found in others’ perception of our less-than-perfect family situation, but rather it is our path that God uniquely called us to. 

The culture was intentionally in tune with when we offered less than what we were capable of. For instance, I struggled in chemistry, and Sister Ellen took me after school each day. She was working hard to teach me, and I would be daydreaming. She asked me if I got it, and I said “I think”; she kiddingly said, “No, Betsy, you don’t think.” We both laughed, and I surely paid attention from that day forward. Her time and humor made me strive to do what I was capable of. 

Tolerance at school meant showing us how to cope going forward, never letting us be victims of our circumstances. For example, there was a strict uniform code. My siblings talked about when it was crazy some mornings, and we rushed out the door with two different socks on or our uniforms not ironed. A sister would call upon one of the older siblings, me sometimes, and ask what was happening. One time, she drew up a plan. She instructed us to have everything ready each night and have the older siblings check to ensure the younger ones had everything ready. We got a pass the first time, but there were no excuses when we came unprepared the next. Through incidents like this, the valuable lesson was that we show others dignity in all situations, because we have an obligation to others. 

I know there are great teachers at every school. However, I feel what makes Catholic schools different is that it is a culture of care, not on an individual, but the call of the community. I believe this systematic approach has a long-term positive impact on children’s lives. An institution committed to keeping Christ at the center creates a mission call for a healthy outward disposition. This approach strives to take personal struggles and calls one to act and think for the sake of others. The culture and, eventually, holiness, prevent an individual from dwelling on inwardness and point your eyes toward Christ and others. 

Every February, I highlight Catholic schools because we celebrate Catholic Schools Week. I am grateful beyond words that my parents’ greatest gift to us, even in their dysfunction, was Catholic schools. Over 30 grandchildren live healthy, happy, and holy lives because our parents loved us enough to have the peace of mind and sacrifice to send their 13 children to Catholic school. 

This year, especially, I hold up Catholic schools because I realize more than ever how their difference, a Christ-centered approach, literally changes the course of many lives. Confidently I can say, Catholic schools shaped and, in many ways, saved our broken childhood. Forever grateful! 

Betsy Kneepkens is director of the Office of Marriage, Family, and Life for the Diocese of Duluth and a mother of six.