Lorene Cary first heard about St. Paul's School 45 years ago when she was 14. Interestingly enough, that was also the first year of The Paideia School. The school Lorene attending all those years ago was about as far away from this school as one could be at the time. Today...well, that's another story.
What Lorene did all those years ago was probably being mirrored all across America. The Private School, the (College) Preparatory School, the Independent School (a term I'm not sure existed back then—it sounds so less loaded the private or prep school)—particularly the ones in New England that had existed for hundreds of years (like Phillips Academy in Andover, MA, founded in 1778, Phillips Exeter in Exeter, NH, founded in 1781, Deerfield Academy, Deerfield, MA, founded 1797, and, yes, St. Paul's School, founded in 1857)—were (and are) feeders for the Ivy Leagues. As Lorene knew even at 14: "I wanted to know the things [Mike Russell] must know: about science and literature and language, living away from home, New England, white people, money, power, himself." Power: even in Darby, a working class section of Philadelphia, she knew what what a New England prep school could bring. And about the time St. Paul's sent out students like Mike Russell and teachers like Jeremy Price, these schools, like St. Paul's, were finally admitting girls. And almost immediately, Lorene decides, "I had to be part of that. With the force of religious conversion, the great God of education moved within me, an African Methodist God with a voice that boomed like thunder. It took all my strength to hold myself inside my skin. This school—why, this was what I had been raised for, only I hadn't known it" (12). Years later, though, she acknowledges:
But I would not admit how profoundly St. Paul's had shaken me, or how damaged and fraudulent and traitorous I felt when I graduated. In fact, I pretended for so long that by the time I was twenty-six years old, I was able to convince myself that going back to school to teach would be the career equivalent of summering with distant, rich relatives. (4)
This is all happening to a fifteen year old girl who has never really left her home city, doesn't really know that much about the world outside her "enclave of black professionals, paraprofessionals, wish-they-was—, look-like, and might-as-well-be professionals, as we called ourselves" (9). Lorene is on a mission—"This school—why, this was what I had been raised for, only I hadn't known it." But can one argue that she even came out ahead of the game, feeling "black and ugly"? "Had they done that to me? Had somebody else? Had I let them? Could I stop the feelings? Or hide them?" (5). Lorene Cary indeed was a trailblazer: one of the first girls in what had been an exclusively male school since 1855. And one of the first African-American girls in what had been an almost exclusively white world. How could this have gone right or smoothly? Or could it have?
I'd propose one of the major questions that Cary asks in her memoir is this: Was the experience worth it? As Sylvia Snyderman pointed out two years ago when I last taught this book, Cary seems to contradict herself. This place, this experience, that so seemed to scar her—to bring her so quickly back to her own feelings of powerlessness that she felt as an adolescent at the school—was not "an aberration from the common run of black life in America. The isolation I'd felt was an illusion" (6). That's one powerful illusion she felt. St. Paul's is hers because she went there—but did it have to be such a daunting experience? And if so, was it the fault of the school—had "they" done it to her? Had she "let them" do it to her? Was this simply a part of growing up? The memoir poses so many questions—and the answers, no surprise, are not easy, not easily reduced to "illusion," no matter how Lorene Cary may feel about them. In my opinion. So...
1. Reactions to the book so far? What moment in it particularly jumped out at you in either a positive or negative way—and why—how so? Please quote.
2. Your reactions to Lorene Cary? Do you like her? Dislike her? Relate to her? What moment in the book so far jumps out at you that helps define this precocious young woman for you, positively or negatively? Please quote.
3. I'm curious, and it does tie in with Lorene's journey. Why did you come to Paideia School?
The St. Paul's website is here. Take a look at it. It looks remarkably like Paideia's website, I think. Take away the more formal dress of some of the boys, stick the pictures on our webpage, and no one would know the difference. The tuition is a little over $60,000. The school was in the news recently for a sex scandal involving a senior boy and a 15 year old female student.
This is Lorene Cary's website.
See you all Tuesday.
1. I’m really enjoying this book. It’s thematically complex, yet far more accessible than Heart of Darkness. By far the most striking moment so far was when Lorene Cary asked herself, “Wasn’t it time for me to play my part in that mammoth enterprise - the integration, the moral transformation, no less, of America?”(33). I can’t imagine asking myself this kind of loaded question at the age of fourteen. I can’t imagine carrying the weight of furthering the progress of my race on my back. I appreciate getting to hear this perspective, which is so different from my own. I was also particularly struck by the line where Lorene discusses the weight of the word sensitive: “Sometimes ‘sensitive’ was what kids called each other when they wanted license for cruelty, or what white people said when they did not want to bother to change”(27). This reminds me of the current controversy over the term “politically correct.” While I agree that political correctness can be taken to an extreme, I think that, for the most part, the people who throw it around like an insult are those same white people who don’t want to bother to change. Just like Lorene said, they claim that the people they are attacking are merely too “sensitive,” that they need to toughen up, which I think is a ridiculous excuse for their behavior.
ReplyDelete2. Though we’ve only really read the introductory segment of the book, I already feel very compelled by Lorene. I admire her determination and her intellect, as well as her perceptiveness. The quote that seems to speak to this single-mindedness most is her realization that “my going away to school would pull the family further apart. With unutterable shame I realized that I wanted to go anyway. No matter what, I wanted to go”(34).
3. When my family was contemplating moving to Georgia, my father said that his one condition was that we kids go to Paideia. If we hadn’t gotten in, we would have just staying in New York City, where I attended a well-regarded public school. My father grew up in Marietta, attended Wheeler, and hated everything about his high school experience, from the social life to the classes to the teachers, and he wanted desperately for my brother and I not to repeat that torment. He then went to Georgia State for college, where all of his favorite people had graduated from Paideia. He said that they all seemed so cool and confident, so worldly. So, he decided that, if he were forced to return to Georgia, his kids must attend Paideia.
1. I’m definitely enjoying it so far! I love the writing style, and I’m interested in how the whole story will pan out. I like the contradiction in feelings about what St. Paul’s was like for Lorene - decisions and places, especially important ones, always have those weird contradictions about feeling good and bad at the same time. Several moments stood out to me - the white mother giving her child peanut butter, the church in which Lorene felt out of place, but what really hit me were the people serving food in the cafeteria. “It seemed wrong for these people to stand there, separated from us […] It seemed wrong for them to remain stunted in the presence of growing, budding, blooming talent, able only to feed the young aristocrats who would go away and forget them,” 31. Just the incredible feeling of hopelessness, and unfairness - not only are opportunities withheld from these people because of things outside of their control, but they work to serve the privileged people around them. I was particularly distressed to read this text: “but aside form the rather predictable teenage cruelty,” 31. Not only does this mean the students ridicule them, but that it’s accepted by the staff. “Predictable” implies inevitable - natural cruelty. He’s essentially saying, “well if you discount all the bad parts, it's pretty good.” It’s absurd. The idea that someone could just accept this as natural, acceptable behavior is beyond me.
ReplyDelete2. I like Lorene a lot because she is writing honestly. She uses simple imagery to let you look into her life and her mind - her world and her understanding of it. “I wanted to know the things he must know: about science and literature and language, living away from home, New England, white people, money, power, himself,” 12. She WANTS an education at St Paul’s. She wants to be part of it. She compares it to a feeling of piety - an “African Methodist God with a voice that boomed like thunder,” 12, that moves her. I admire people with goals, I like people who are honest, and I love the way she writes. She’s struggling with who she wants to be and what she thinks people want from her. In the interview with Mr. Dick she lies to him. “'And do you like school?’ ‘Most of the time, yes.’ A bald-faced lie,” 26. She tells him what she thinks he wants to hear, and they both know it isn’t working. Just after that, she refuses to tell him about her favorite writers and protagonists, afraid he’d find them off-putting. “I memorized black poetry - stately sonnets, skittering bebop rhymes, any celebration of black women and i drank in the furry of my contemporaries. I did not tell Mr. Dick that I’d been reading The Spook Who sat by the Door, or that I was attracted to the murderous rage of the protagonist, a token black like me,” 27. Lorene likes righteous fury and push-back, but she seems afraid to show it, so it was interesting to read the application at the end of the chapter. “[Taking the christmas trees] was clearly a case of bald-faced stealing. I wrote as prettily as I could and dared them not to like it,” 34. She managed to let the awkward attempts at pleasing people go and favored herself and her story. It felt good.
3. I started in half-day and never went anywhere else. Paideia was recommended by our neighbor, whose grandson went here. When my parents looked into it they felt like it was a good place, and that the administration really knew what they were doing.
1. The first thing that jumped out at me was when she says "The isolation I'd felt was an illusion". It was interesting that she was able to relate her experience to what many would consider vastly different experiences that occur outside of "the common run of black life in America". In that introduction, I didn't know exactly where she was going to take the book, but when she said that it showed how she was going to connect her experience to the feelings and experiences of others in ranging situations. Coming from race day, it really showed how the same issues, perspectives, and oppressive ideas can permeate any system, not just our government or institutions like that. Of course I don't know what will happen, but I can see how her experience could show how isolation could occur on a smaller scale, and then that could be related to greater issues in society.
ReplyDelete2. I like her so far. She seems ambitious yet understandably nervous and apprehensive. I enjoyed it when Lorene's mother tells Lorene to call the alumnus judge to get information about the school. She suddenly imagines this judge's chambers as a very fancy and important place. She thinks of him as "a man who was not used to being interrupted by phone calls from strange black girls". It shows a separation that exists in her mind between her and this type of successful white man. It seems that she already sees herself as living a different existence than this man, and she already feels strange about entering into 'another world' by becoming part of his alma mater.
3. I came to Paideia because my parents wanted to send me to an academically strong school. They decided to spend a huge portion of their income on education, and they had a lot of help from grandparents. Obviously, they only made this sacrifice because they truly value education. They didn't think my local public school would be anywhere near as challenging and effective as Paideia would be. Of course, I also wanted to come to Paideia. My siblings had gone to Paideia, and I liked the set up of the school. I had also been accepted to Woodward Academy, but I felt that the culture there was too strict and rigid. I liked Paideia because there was a lot more freedom for both students and teachers to explore ideas that don't get discussed at other schools. The school also appealed to me because it seemed to strip away some of the unnecessary policies that other schools instituted that don't really help students learn (no uniforms, no bells, etc).
1. I love this book. The writing is novel-esque but rings true and genuine, a great balance for a memoir. Reading the introduction definitely changed the way I approached the book because I began chapter one with Cary’s reflections and criticisms, reservations, about the school. It is clearly not a perfect place, but she still feels a sense of belonging to it and because of that I want her to get in, want her to enjoy being there. The moment that struck me was when she visits the church at St. Paul’s. The contrast between her church at home is profound: “My music would not fit here. Neither would my God. He whom I had held onto, just barely, through the music that spoke comfort and retribution, and the community, the perfumed and bosomy women who approved of me, and the old en who nodded at me each Sunday. I could not conjure my God in this place, and it seemed His failure.” (24). She feels the coldness, the quiet of the church and it is nothing like the warm community filled with voices and music that she associates with God. She feels that her God doesn’t belong there, and that to me was powerful—God is (from my understanding) universal, but she doesn’t feel that, doesn’t feel wanted or welcomed in this place of God.
ReplyDelete2. I like Lorene and I definitely feel like I can relate to her. My parents want me to do well, want me to make them proud, just like hers do. She loves to read as do I. She is observant and sensitive and determined. Her drive shows through in her feeling that St. Paul’s is her destiny: “I cradled the desire gingerly, as if I would keep it a secret even from myself, but the visit had given me a feeling of necessity. I had to go to St. Paul’s. I had been raised for it.” (32). She feels a pull towards the place, like it is an important part of her journey to adulthood. She is smart and resourceful and proactive—she thinks about her future and she wants to make a mark on the world.
3. I didn’t really have another choice for school. My dad’s cousin Maggie had taught at Paideia when it was first founded and it was the only school we knew in Atlanta. I visited Georgia for the first time during my Spring Break, was interviewed (I really enjoyed my interview, so after I had seen Paideia I wanted to come), and then started in the fall.
1. I think the book is incredibly interesting in that, like Do the Right Thing, it does not hesitate to criticize black Americans alongside white Americans. Blacks in Philadelphia clearly experience racism on a personal level, as evidenced by the teacher's decision not to include Lorene's science project in the fair. Yet, at other times racism feels less personal and more societal, like the general economic oppression that Lorene's family faced when they attempted to get out of West Philly. "What America will do for a buck," (20) Lorene's mother says as they drive through the industrial wasteland. Furthermore, at times Lorene's family themselves seem to fall victim to this societal feeling, the desire to make more money. Their ambition drives them to get the new house in Yeadon and send Lorene to St. Paul's. But even though they have so much ambition, it doesn't seem to be working for them. The new house in Yeadon doesn't make them happy. It's even unclear if Lorene's education at St. Paul's made her happy, at least in the moment. And is she only happy at the end because St. Paul's changed her so much that she's unable to recognize what her former self would have thought? I guess what I'm getting at is I wonder if Cary is attempting to claim that the model for white happiness, working hard in the capitalist system, is simply that, a model for white happiness, where blacks need to find there own way. But there's also the sense that it's impossible to escape the system; she wonders if she's just a pawn in the whites' game. Or, another option: is she arguing that Capitalism itself which drives our desire to be above other people is the problem driving things like white flight?
ReplyDelete2. I like Lorene, but I feel like I don't have the same sense of ambition that she does. Lorene desires so much for herself and so does her family, but I guess I just don't feel that same sense of hunger for something more. She feels a sense of destiny, like she had "been raised for" (12) St. Paul's. While I have strong beliefs, I doubt my personal worth a lot and I don't think I would be able to advocate so strongly for myself without feeling like a cheat.
3. I came to Paideia because the legislature underfunded the public school system and the county was forced to make changes; so they closed my neighborhood school. I would have had to get bussed for 45 minutes to go to another school which was academically much worse. So my Mom, who knew about Paideia from her best friend Tommy (Mary Lynn's brother), got me to apply. I also applied to Pace and Westminster, just because. I got into all three, but we couldn't afford Pace and Westminster so while it wasn't much, the financial aid we got from Paideia was enough to send me here and I've been going here ever since.
1.So far, this seems like a pretty good book. I like the writing style, and see a combination of depth of the material and ease of reading that could be refreshing after Heart of Darkness. One moment that I saw as particularly sad was Cary's moment in the chapel. She writes:
ReplyDelete"The aisle was wide enough for a mummers' procession. My music
would not fit here. Neither would my God, He whom I had held
onto, just barely, through the music that spoke comfort and
retribution[...]. I could not conjure my God in this place, and it
seemed His failure. Surprise, as cold as the electric blanket had
been warm, overwhelmed me. (24)
She realizes that this is a place where she can't be who she has been up to this point in her life. For the most part, Lorene Cary presents this as a fresh start. She wouldn't be living down the same stories she'd heard for the past ten years. However, there is a recognition that there's more to it then a fresh start. It's not that she can change, it's that she'll have to. Cary realizes that this is a place where the culture she's grown up in, the God she believes in, won't fit in.
2. For the most part I like her, but we're not too far into the book yet. I don't think I really know her very well as a character or as an author yet. There's nothing that makes me dislike her, but that could change. Cary writes, "Wasn't it time for me to play my part in that mammoth enterprise—the integration, the moral transformation, no less, of America?" (33). This is not someone who's unwilling to push themselves. She wants to do something. This impresses me. Not many teenagers want to leave home to further their education and participate in the "moral transformation" of America (33).
3. I was in kindergarten when I came to Paideia. My parents sent both of my older siblings to public school for a couple of years, but each time they were frustrated and decided to find other options. Paideia is what they ended up choosing.
1. I like the book so far; it grabbed my attention from the preface. It's easy to read but it deals with some very heavy subjects which are still very relevant today. One of the things that really stuck out to me was the line, “I wondered if they knew, or if they would learn, that just as St. Paul's was theirs, because they had attended the school and contributed to it, so, too, was American life and culture theirs, because they were black people in America”(5). I think that this addressed a real issue and a real feeling that kids especially those of color sometimes feel in private schools as well as in the country. Maybe I haven't read enough books, but this is the first time I've read a book that addressed this feeling of ‘not-belonging’ on collective rather than individual level.
ReplyDelete2. I think she's very perceptive and understands the racial dynamic both in private schools and the US. She describes her experiences and the things she saw in subtle details which I think reflects the subtle –yet important and prevalent– nature of race in America. This is displayed when she talks about a boy and his mother: “When I said hello, he did not turn his head to look at me, but only peeped out of the corner of his eyes and nodded, as if we might bolt out of the house together and go howling into the Chestnut hill woods if were to look too hard at each other” (10).
3. I applied to a couple of private schools because my middle school said that I should and I don't really know why I chose Paideia. I think it was combination of knowing two other people who were also going to Paideia and it being closer to where I live. Im kind of glad that I chose to go to Paideia because I think it's a better fit for me than the other schools would've been.
I like the book. It doesn't feel like an autobiography- it has an almost song-like presence. One particular line that exemplifies this is when Mrs. Cary describes her love of reading: “I sped through my grandfather's paperbacks that lined the wall of their mint-green sun parlor and read and reread the dirty parts until I was damp. I memorized black poetry—stately sonnets, skittering bebop rhymes, any celebration of black women—and I drank in the fury of my contemporaries.” The sound quality of the word “skittering” combined with the image, or sound rather, of bebop, made me think of a intricate and detailed poem, something you could drown in.
ReplyDeleteI like Lorene Cary. She accepts and confides in the the reader both sides of her life: her intimate and black life and her external white life. She shoves this dichotomy to the forefront: she contrasts the St. Paul's church with her A.M.E congregation, in a few instances her white facade slips and her black persona shows, such as when she responds harshly to the question of whether she does her homework: “'I do my homework,” I said” (27). Here, feeling categorized and judged by her race, she responds defiantly, revealing her offense and her self-consciousness.
My sister came here a year before I did after she graduated from the children school. My parents disliked the commute, so they decided to enroll me in Paideia. I remember my “interview.” I came into a large room filled with may other young kids, and was told to play. I sat down and pushed a bunch of thin wooden blocks around the floor with Dean Farris. Then I somehow got accepted.
1. I guess I like the book. I just don’t feel that strongly about it yet. So far, I find it her story well written and its messages important, but I can’t say it’s all that interesting yet. I miss the puzzles of “Heart of Darkness” and “Apocalypse Now”. I know that’s a terrible thing to say as this book, her story, is something powerful and ever present in my classmate’s lives, and I’m empathetic to that, but as it is so early in the book, I can’t say I truly care about her yet, nor am I all that interested in what’s to come. Just to know that she did indeed walk “down the same aisle as a graduate, and nine years later as a teacher,” (1); it’s an assurance that makes her story slightly less interesting for me. I’m sure this will all change once I become invested in her character and the struggles she faces, but as of now, that’s how I feel, and I’m rather guilty for it.
ReplyDelete2. I like her, I suppose, but as I’ve said before I don’t feel that much for her. While this probably stems from whatever inhibitions I face when attempting to relate to her as well as how little I’ve read of her story thus far, it would be a lie to say I care about her enough to say whether I love her or hate her. I’m sure once I hear more of her story, I’ll be able to find moments that reflect some of my own experiences, but as of now, all I can do is try to understand that while I cannot relate to her or the inner turmoil she faces, I can still empathize with it being real and constant to those around me whose experience is different. I am a young, white girl who has never lived anywhere other than Atlanta. I come from a loving family that takes expensive vacations and sends me to a good private school. I’ve never known anything other than this privileged life where my privilege stems from some unconscious sense of belonging in a world where many are not offered the same indulgence. This book, this woman’s story, I know will be good for me, will teach me, but even then, I feel guilty for making her teach me. She shouldn’t have to educate me in empathy and understanding by sharing the most intimate stories of her past, but she does. I feel like I’m exploiting her. I realize she wants to share this story, but as she says, “I am writing this book to become part of that unruly conversation, and to bring my experience back to the community of minds that made it possible,”, this story isn’t meant for me. I know that sounds like an excuse for not putting myself out there to receive the messages she’s so clearly sending, but that’s how I feel.
3. I came to Paideia in first grade after one year at Cliff Valley. I really only came because my big sister did, so perhaps hers is the story more relevant. She came because after three years at Mary Lin, my parents were fed up with the inexcusable lack of care the they believed teachers should offer young children. My sister was slow at starting to read, so the school, instead of giving her extra help, just kept her back a grade. This indifference to the individual needs of specific children drove my mom crazy, and that was that. Isabel came to Paideia in third grade and I followed a year later at the ripe old age of six.
1) It's only been 34 page so far, and I've already related to the book so much. Honestly, the book sounds it was written from my perspective, especially this section on the application process. I felt so determined to attend a boarding school, sharing her sentiment “I had to go to St. Paul’s. I had been raised for it.” If you replaced every “St. Paul” with a “Choate,” this really could be my story. To be more specific, the part that really stuck out to me was wen she described why she wanted to leave her school for St. Paul’s. “I guess what I would look forward to most is being where all the students want to learn. In my school, if you get a really good report card, you feel like you better hide it on the way.” It's essentially the exact same reason why I left. To be surrounded by people who take pride in intelligence and knowledge, by people who would push me to learn more, not to feel ashamed for I sought to learn.
ReplyDelete2) I like her a lot. She's honest. The story feels unfiltered. We are getting the full story with every emotion and detail included. The moment that really shows cased this was her interview, when she was asked if she liked school. “’Most of the time yes.’ A bald faced lie.” Of course she lied on her interview, but we, in this reading, get her true thoughts. She then goes on to give an amazing description of the different aspects of the school environment that were displeasing. The language isn’t as complex as Conrad, but it's true, honest, vivid, relatable, and just as detailed.
3) This may sound cheesy or cliché, but just read the story and you'll know why I came to Paideia. It's an escape. A cop out from the environment I was in. A door our of the school that traps people into basketball, poverty, or danger. I didn't want to be another kid that went to Westlake just to return to that community two years later after a failed stint at Georgia perimeter. I didn't want to be Cam Newton (who attended my local school) and only make it out because I was good at football (or track in my case). I was curious and I wanted to learn, so I came to Paideia.
1. I've really enjoyed the book so far because it is refreshing to read something that is relatable in a way that Heart of Darkness isn't. The scene that stuck out most for me was when Lorene and her parents were at the house where they were introduced to the school and they were shown the slide show. Everything in the slideshow was idyllic: Lorene sees students enjoying the beauty of the campus. "I saw blacks boys. I saw girls, a few of them black, too." (13) Everything about the slideshow seems entirely perfect, there are even black kids getting the education and time of their lives. What stood out to me was the reaction of Lorene's mother to this slideshow because she instinctively doesn't trust anything she sees. "He [Mr. Price] did not answer the black mothers' fear of their children's powerlessness, their vulnerability to white adults who might equate sharpness of the mind with sharpness of the features." (14) Even at 15 Lorene is completely aware that what she sees in the slideshow isn't the truth and that there are serious concerns to be had at this school because that is the way the world is for blacks in America.
ReplyDelete2.I think Lorene is a very relatable character because she thinks like a 15 year old. She is well aware of the dangers she will face in going to this school, and she knows the reasons why she is prepared to face this danger. Lorene says, "It [St. Paul's] was almost too good. And yet it was true. I knew it. It was as true as the estrangement that had settled between them like chill damp in our basement." (25) For me, this statement really captures a lot of Lorene's internal conflict that she experiences when chooses to go to St, Paul's. Her family has become estranged even after it bought a large house, and Lorene is realizing that her relationship with this school and its people could become estranged in a similar way.
3. My parents wanted to send me to a "progressive" school that was relatively close to where we live. I had little say in the decision of where I would go to school back in 6th grade when I started at Paideia.