After high school

by Liz O'Neill

Background
We are now moving beyond high school for Lizzy.

After high school graduation, another girl and I who belonged to the FTA, Future Teachers’ Association, a school club, went to New York City for three weeks for a seminar. It had been a long time since I had traveled by bus so I had forgotten I used to get motion sick. Mother used to have little handi-wipes to distract Nike and me from being sick.

Now, I associate them with that strong odor in the packets from places like Kentucky Fried Chicken. Nauseated the entire ride to New York, I was almost on the floor. I was so relieved when we got into Port Authority. It was the first time either of us had left Vermont except for me, an occasional trip to my aunt’s in Massachusetts.

Panic began to take over. And ironically or providentially, a Sister of St. Joseph from Maine came to our aid and directed us toward our desired destination where someone was meeting us to take us to Mills College.

What a cultural opportunity to attend Broadway Shows and an Opera. Mother and I compared the shape of our feet and concluded that the pointy shoes of the 60’s had formed my foot into a more narrow shape than Mother’s which had a gradual slope from the big toe to the little one.

To dress formally for such events I wore those spike heels.

In one of the buildings, we had to go on an escalator. We did not have escalators in Vermont, nor had I ever seen one on television. I froze as I watched one potential step after another come up out of the floor. I’m sure there was a line of people forming behind me.

Finally, the right step came along and I jumped onto it. I was terrified I would get my tiny spike heel caught in the ridges of the stair, but it all worked out. I still have to wait an inordinate amount of time for the right stair to surface. As the stairs rise, so does my anxiety. Descending is worse when I get to the bottom, with the steps appearing to roll off into nothingness. When there is an option, I take the stairs or the elevator.

Elevators have not been a problem except for the express ones which leave my stomach back at the 1st floor and my head feels as if it’s going to puncture the top of the elevator cage ceiling.When we had to wait for our father at his office, Nike and I used to spend the times riding up and down in the elevator with the elevator man.

Another amusing experience I had that summer in New York was when we attended Madame Butterfly. We arrived a little late. Because I had never been to an opera nor seen one on television, I did not recognize the opera was in Italian as I didn't even know what Italian sounded like when sung. I had many classmates who had Italian-speaking parents, but they didn’t sing their sentences.

We figured whatever was playing would soon conclude and our opera would begin. I brushed it off assuming it was like the movies we attended. The previous movie was playing if we arrived early. When that one ended our movie would begin. Gradually, we recognized we must be listening to Madame Butterfly. We settled in with a translated script given to us and began to enjoy the performance.

The educational section included touring for the purpose of comparing daycares in the poor areas with those in the more well-to-do sections. We stuck very close to each other as we walked through the Bowery. Observing derelicts lying on the sidewalk instilled caution in me. I've had several slightly traumatizing experiences in New York but as I grew older and more used to it, events did not bother me as much.

At a later point in time, Mother and I were transporting one of the Sisters back from Kennedy Airport and accidentally detoured into the Bowery. I knew I needed to get out of there soon. Trusting I would drive us to safety, Mother did not seem to be disturbed by where we were, Another time while attempting to locate my friend’s house in Brooklyn. I found myself off course in Harlem, in the pouring rain.

My friend used humor but said, “It’s a wonder you didn’t get your face ripped off as you stopped to ask for directions in one place after another.”

I was being Divinely watched over one more time as I miraculously found my way back to the area from which I had strayed. I have loved driving in that city and riding the subway. Ah, the adrenaline rush of it all.

I experienced the ocean for the first traumatizing time at Jones’s Beach which I have visited many times since. I’d only swum in lakes and ponds and knew nothing of the surf. I felt I was going to drown when I walked into the water only to be immediately knocked down.

I was also unaware the sand under my feet would be unstable as it was pulling away. Attempting to get up, thrown off balance, I was thrust to the sandy floor by yet another wave. That was the end of my swimming in the ocean for another ten years.

While I was at the Seminar, Mother was making preparations for me to enter the convent. We had received a list of the required clothing and where to order it. There were to be no substitutions or additions. Mother had bought me an elegant sewing box. It was deemed unacceptable as it was not regulation size. She gave me an old cookie tin which I still use today.

This was the first of many deprivations I had to sustain. I don’t remember what I got for Christmas as it was immediately taken from me. She did let me keep the tree filled with Penuche fudge. I was the only one who could eat it, but at least I could eat it and remember my mother's fudge.

I vaguely remember a very handsome attache’ case snached away And probably given to our chaplain. He got all of our stuff. I received it honoring my ceremony to begin wearing the habit, the traditional dress of the community. After a while, Mother decided to comply, gifting me with only necessary items such as toothpaste and other female necessities.

She still contained that strain to fight against authority. It was in a box of female necessities Mother hid bubble gum. The contraband was discovered, confiscated, and a penance to go with it. I'm not certain if I told my mother about that but I probably did as a precaution for further infractions of the rules.

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Events after high school

A chapter in the book A Particular Friendship

After high school

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