Bless Me Sister
A Slightly Irreverent Look at Attending Catholic Grammar School
by Tom Zappala
The Good Sisters Were Always One Step Ahead Of Us
“We cried on the first day of school because we were scared, and we cried on the last day of eighth grade because we were sad to leave.”
This light-hearted trip down memory lane will take you from the late 1950s into the 1960s as seen through the eyes of an inner-city Italian American parochial school kid. You’ll follow his adventures from the first day of school to graduation.
The Good Sisters Were Always One Step Ahead Of Us
“We cried on the first day of school because we were scared, and we cried on the last day of eighth grade because we were sad to leave.”
This light-hearted trip down memory lane will take you from the late 1950s into the 1960s as seen through the eyes of an inner-city Italian American parochial school kid. You’ll follow his adventures from the first day of school to graduation.
A Peek Inside The Book
The school was filled with kids who had good Italian values, great parents and a rich culture, but they were city kids who were always looking for an angle. The Irish nuns who taught them were usually on top of the situation and, more often than not, this leads to some humorous escapades. When the day was done, they learned, loved, and laughed, thanks to the good Sisters of Notre Dame.
A Peek Inside The Book
The school was filled with kids who had good Italian values, great parents and a rich culture, but they were city kids who were always looking for an angle. The Irish nuns who taught them were usually on top of the situation and, more often than not, this leads to some humorous escapades. When the day was done, they learned, loved, and laughed, thanks to the good Sisters of Notre Dame.
Bless Me Sister
Zappala Reminisces About Parochial Grammar School in ‘Bless Me Sister’
“It’s a nostalgic and often humorous look back to the late 1950s and 1960s in a six-block area rich in Italian-American culture, a time when recorded opera music drifted from open windows and mothers and fathers called out from stoops for their children to come inside from playing.
It was also time when the nuns who taught at the neighborhood parochial school had a steadfast place in students’ lives. To this day, Zappala can hear the wooden clickers that the sisters held in their hands, the number of clicks telling the children to stand, sit or quiet down.”
Bless Me Sister
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