Jamila has an autobiographical or miniature memoir-type post which is a must-read.
My mother was a Baptist who converted to Catholicism about the time it came to enroll me in school and to get a parish discount. I do believe her devotion, but the timing leads me to think that her god’s got wonderful timing. Except for a 6-8th grade reprieve, ALL of my education up until my final semester in college was at the hands of Catholic schoolteachers. And true to form, they taught me how to question and dissect everything.
I actually did consider myself to be an adherent Catholic… though it never did make sense to me. I put forth a good face.
The face started to crack in high school when my questioning Catholic doctrine and dogma and my growing understanding of my rights as a citizen were in eternal conflict.
She stuck a pro-choice slogan on her backpack, to the helpless rage of the vice-principal.
I spent more time in detention than in nearly every other activity except for forensics. I loved parliamentary debate just as much as I loved being in front of a room.
What an ideal combination, am I right?
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