Italian Catholic

Posted by alwayshasastraw on April 1, 2010 · 1 Comment 

I grew up in Northern New Jersey, in an Italian Catholic household. The town was small, population 2000. There were 6 houses on my street. Five of the families attended the local Catholic Church. Every Sunday, the five families would meet in the church basement which served as our church home for a number of years, sit in the cold metal folding chairs, recite the same prayers, wish peace to the same people. I remember the feeling of the cold metal chairs. How, because of the size of the church, there was no CCD, and thus I was made to sit through the entire Mass. My mom didn’t believe in bringing a book or small toy to keep her children occupied, because that would take their attention away from the Mass. At that age, I was resentful. Years later, I’ve grown to respect her for that, as boring as it was to sit through something I didn’t understand.
A number of years later we moved to Richmond, and I was given the option of going to public or private school. I looked at my options and decided on Saint Gertrude High School, in Richmond’s Museum District.  My parents were proud that I made that choice, mostly so they could say they had a kid in private school, and eschew their mutually fair weathered West End friends, blaming it on a private school function.
For the most part I thrived in the small all-girls community. The classes were challenging and the teachers treated us with respect. It was refreshing to be in an academic atmosphere where the teachers looked forward to coming to work, and my classmates, my fellow 50 sisters, were joined by common bonds.
Not everyone at the school was Catholic, yet we were required to attend weekly Mass with the Cadets from Benedictine High School, much to the dislike of our principal, Sister Charlotte. We also had weekly class chapel, a half-hour worship service designed to promote relaxation and bonding among the individual classes.
I would be remiss to say that my faith grew during my four years at the school. I became more involved in my home church; teaching Sunday school, attending Confirmation retreats as an ‘adult’ advisor (I was sixteen…the word adult is used loosely here), and heading up the Lay Eucharist Ministry. As far as the Catholic Church was concerned, I could go no further unless I became a nun. I heard that repeatedly during my high school years, yet was always told that nuns aren’t sarcastic, so I was out. That was fine with me, as I continued my theological studies; I began to question my faith.
During my senior year, I was elected to the position of state youth representative for the Catholic Diocese of Richmond. Along with the two other girls from the Richmond region, I was tasked with planning local retreats, getting Catholic youth excited about their faith, and planning the summer Convention, where Catholic youth from the state of Virginia would gather and worship for a weekend. As much as the Council seat helped my personal life during my last year of high school, it helped shape my current faith life. It was there, during the weekend retreats, that I began to question my faith. Did the wine really turn to blood? What is so special about wafers that are bought at the store before Mass on Sunday? (I was told as a child that the nuns bake the unleavened bread before services). Why are babies who are not baptized before an untimely death punished to Limbo instead of being received into Heaven? If God so loves, why was there a Hell?
I remember not too long after my parents left the Church, on the morning news, the anchor announced that the Pope had decided to do away with Limbo. My dad, who went to church because it was what you did on Sundays, asked my mom what that was. She shrugged and looked at me. I explained that Limbo was the place a baby would go if they died before baptism. My mom turned indignant. “That’s why we had you baptized in the NICU,” she said accusingly. I’m not sure if she was accusing the church or me. I tried not to care. My dad again glances up from the New York Times. Stuttering, he says that he doesn’t understand. Why don’t babies go to Heaven? That’s where they belong. I slowly nod. He angrily shakes his head. “That’s stupid,” he said, his version of the worst insult ever, and went back to his paper; giving the news story a glaring fuck you.
I left the Church after graduation due to personal reasons, and did not return, save for two family funerals, for about seven years. I found a church that was holding a contemporary praise and worship service for young adults. It was completely different from the rigid church experience I had grown up with. It took getting used to, and it took being comfortable enough with myself, since my family was not okay with my decision, even though they themselves had long since left the Catholic church.
That service has since disbanded because the young adults were not providing enough funding towards the service, according to the church. Right now, I tend not to define my spirituality outside of ‘Christian.’ I have seen enough political greed, ruined families and abuse of power in organized religion that although I would love to find a church home, I am comfortable blasting contemporary Christian music from my Jeep, from my room, from the TV. I find myself in a local coffee shop that plays Christian music, sipping coffee, attempting to get work done, and the next thing I know, I am getting glances from other patrons because I am singing to the all too familiar songs.
My spiritual journey is private. It is one thing I have to myself and I guard it with intensity. I am an empathetic person, yet tell me that my views are wrong and how you believe, how your church worships, is what I should be doing, tell me that because the Bible, a book written over 2000 years ago, with many translations and even more interpretations, is meant to be taken literally, and my empathetic nature is replaced by a defensive Italian from New Jersey. Who knows where my journey will take me next. With an open mind and an open heart, I continue to explore my personal, private theology.

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The next WriteClub meeting

Posted by Tommy on January 25, 2010 · Leave a Comment 

WriteClubRVA will meet at Panera Willow Lawn at 7:30 pm on February 21. If you need directions or have any questions call Cristina at 804-426-2119.

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Notes from first Write Club meeting

Posted by homeslice on October 5, 2009 · 3 Comments 

Thanks to everyone who came out tonight!  I was honored to be in the presence of so many talented people (and brainiac nerds).  Some notes from tonight:

  1. No, you don’t need to be a member of this site to attend meetings.  The benefit to membership on this site is that eventually when @JasonKenney, @knownhuman and @trevordickerson finish setting up the blog properly, you will be able to contribute and control what kinds of feedback you receive on your writing.
  2. We met at Capital Ale House tonight and while most of us enjoyed the beers and $1 burgers, there were a couple of problems.  It was pretty loud, and there are not enough electrical outlets for laptops.  Actually, there were NO outlets.  Tommy has offered up his comic book store near 288 and Midlothian Turnpike for the next meeting.  Please leave comments if this location works for you.  Bring your own B (beverages, beer, bratwurst)
  3. Speaking of the next meeting, it will be on October 19th at 7.30 pm. 
  4. Don’t forget your goals for next meeting!  Write them down, then write your  heart out!
  5. If anyone wants to get together for a write-up, please let me know.  I’m writing every day between the hours of 9am-12 pm and 7-10 pm.

Thanks again.  I’m feeling quite inspired, and hope the rest of you got as much out of it as I did.  ;-)

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Agenda for 10.5.09 #WriteClubRVA Meeting

Posted by homeslice on October 5, 2009 · 1 Comment 

Hello to everyone who is planning to attend tonight’s inaugural Write Club RVA meeting (7.30 pm, Capital Ale House at Innsbrook).  Below is our agenda.  In future meetings, the first half hour will be devoted to standard business and updates followed by at least one writing exercise, then open writing time. 

I. Purpose of writeclubrva:  to bring together local writers from various backgrounds to encourage, critique and support each other.

II.  Introductions. Who you are,  a little bit about what you like to read, what kind of writing you do, and why you’re here.

III.  Upcoming projects:

IV.  First Assignments/Goal Setting:  In the next two weeks, what is your plan?  

V.  Update on writeclubrva.com website.

VI.  Open networking/writing/freelance opportunities in Richmond

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