Ursuline Academy

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken”

In 1950, the 24 young ladies of Ursuline Academy’s Class of ‘54 came from all parts of the city as well as from places as “exotic” as Kennett Square, PA and Penns Grove, NJ. For many girls such as I coming from an insulated ethnic community, entrance into Ursuline Academy was the first foray into America’s melting pot. What did we encounter?

First of all, rigorous academic standards, discipline, and the idea of SERVIAM burned into our consciousness every step of the way; instruction not only in math but also languages, literature, art, and music, plus drama and sports with a strong emphasis on culture and faith. We may not have known it then, but our education was preparing us for a lifetime of leadership as we sat on a launch pad of sorts before blazing out into a new, unfamiliar, and uncertain world.

What was that world like in the fabled fifties? Duck-tail haircuts, the pulsating sounds of Bill Haley’s rock ‘n roll at local dances. A car cost about $2,000. Most of us walked to school. It cost a dime to mail a letter, minimum wage was $1 an hour, gas was a whopping 25 cents a gallon, and for the class rebels who dared to defy convention and smoke!, cigarettes cost 25 cents a pack. Tuition at Ursuline was $200 a year; much more than the $1 a month charged at the parochial schools from whence we came, and much less than the tuition of today. There was American Bandstand on TV if you had one, the first leak-free Paper-Mate ball point pen, Peanuts cartoons, the ubiquitous Burma-Shave signs on family drives, and our “in” words: hip, groovy, and cool (not too different from today’s). In the fifties, teenagers were not yet a separate class of consumers as they became years later, unendingly courted by media and merchants. At the time, we were considered and, rightly so, as mere clay models of the eventual sculptures which would emerge.

Our horizons expanded significantly when Sputnik blasted into the sky and the nuclear submarine was launched. The Korean conflict raged, soon to be followed by an escalating Cold War. Can we possibly forget those atomic bomb drills, ducking under our desks for cover only to later realize that in a real atomic war, that maneuver would not have saved us.

We were different, we Ursuline girls, set apart not only by those dreary baggy green gabardine uniforms coordinated with clumpy oxfords – plus the requisite hat quickly ditched as soon as the school grounds faded in the distance. Did those endless diagrams of Latin sentences help our vocabulary, our English comprehension, and our ability to deal with the humdrum? Did the lectures on Shakespeare and ventures into poetry open sparkly new vistas? And did our motto, Serviam, presage the era when volunteerism and community service became the rallying cry, as they are today? Most would answer in the affirmative.

This spring, nine Class of ’54 graduates returned for their 55th reunion. On a lovely Friday evening, the years melted away in the banter and laughter over hors d’oeuvres and wine in the auditorium filled with the whispered secrets of yesteryear, where we once attended assemblies and school plays, and where we received our diplomas before setting out on our individual life’s adventure. Through the mists of time, anecdotes resurrected the good nuns of yesteryear: Ma Mere and her trilled r r r French drills. Mother Kathleen and the baffling algorithms of geometry. The Peach sisters: Mother Aloysius and Loyola, who prepared us in Latin and history. Mothers Angela Merici and Berenice…strict and demanding, yes; but as we found, the world was even more demanding than they ever were. The next day, the class gathered for Mass in the chapel, followed by a luncheon. Of the original 24 members of the class, 16 are still living, which meant a hefty 50% attendance. Now…will we be back for our 60th?