The other day, over grapefruit martinis, my friends and I were swapping stories about attending catholic schools. As can be expected, the stories were filled with molestation. Although the priest at my parish was boy crazy, I was not molested; I guess that was the start of my insecurity.
I do have fond memories of Sister Mary Guisey: A butch lesbian with a crew cut and a fire hydrant figure. In retrospect, I'm amazed that the Catholic Church would allow such a blatantly gay woman in the classroom...…well, on second thought, maybe it's not that odd.
Sister Guisey was hired to teach math, but she would spend hours entertaining the class with stories of fending off switchblade wielding students at her former grade school in St. Paul. I loved her tales of pre-teen gang warfare, but now that I look back, this was the cornfield, not the south side of Chicago, and her stories were pure fiction. She was fired for putting Jim Charbeneux - the class clown - in a half nelson when he pulled a piece of Juicy Fruit from his pocket. Sister Guisey swore he was reaching for a switchblade.
Later, I heard Sister Guisey left the nunnery and was tending bar at a local gay bar.