(Contribution)
I joined the Christian Brothers at 12.
I don't mean I first went to the CBS at age 12; I signed up to become a Christian Brother.
It was 1973, I wasn't long out of short trousers having just made my Confirmation.
No one could stop me, not even teary pleas from my mother and stern looks from my soldier father who simply asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
I wasn't taken screaming and kicking, I volunteered. I had a vocation. Even at the age of 12 I thought I knew everything. I am not sure if I wanted to save the world or to see the world, as the Brothers had schools everywhere.
In Monasterevin CBS I met my share of Brothers who believed in corporal punishment, some of them embraced it with such enthusiasm you'd think they were the east coast distributors.
There were variations on the theme from the weapon of choice, the infamous leather. A ruler across the legs or palms would sting, a blackboard duster cut the knuckles off you but it was six of the best on each hand from the fat rung of a chair which was most feared.
"Come up here you Arab", would be the summons as you were grabbed by the locks or your ear lobe and lifted from your tubular desk to your tippy toes for your punishment to be administered at the top of the class.
Why anyone in their right mind would want to join such a band of Brothers is hard to explain now in hindsight. What seems ludicrous today was the norm back then. Corporal punishment wasn't just legal it was popular.
Difficult kids were not spoken about as children with emotional and challenging behaviour, but as delinquents.
While I was not coerced, or even encouraged, to join the Christian Brothers I know of boys who were forced in that direction.
It was 1973, I wasn't long out of short trousers having just made my Confirmation.
No one could stop me, not even teary pleas from my mother and stern looks from my soldier father who simply asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
I wasn't taken screaming and kicking, I volunteered. I had a vocation. Even at the age of 12 I thought I knew everything. I am not sure if I wanted to save the world or to see the world, as the Brothers had schools everywhere.
In Monasterevin CBS I met my share of Brothers who believed in corporal punishment, some of them embraced it with such enthusiasm you'd think they were the east coast distributors.There were variations on the theme from the weapon of choice, the infamous leather. A ruler across the legs or palms would sting, a blackboard duster cut the knuckles off you but it was six of the best on each hand from the fat rung of a chair which was most feared.
"Come up here you Arab", would be the summons as you were grabbed by the locks or your ear lobe and lifted from your tubular desk to your tippy toes for your punishment to be administered at the top of the class.
Why anyone in their right mind would want to join such a band of Brothers is hard to explain now in hindsight. What seems ludicrous today was the norm back then. Corporal punishment wasn't just legal it was popular.
Difficult kids were not spoken about as children with emotional and challenging behaviour, but as delinquents.
While I was not coerced, or even encouraged, to join the Christian Brothers I know of boys who were forced in that direction.
I have been as shocked by the revelations in the Ryan report as anyone else, but quite honestly not at all surprised. If you take a coterie of young boys away from home and school them in a surreal, sexually suppressed environment over a period of years the dangers seem obvious.
The Christian Brothers were cradle snatching and in later life these boys-turned-men in black, armed with leathers and rungs of chairs were fundamentally flawed and potentially dangerous.
With many Christian Brothers, the air of menace was never too far from the surface.
Putting them in charge of hundreds of young boys in an enclosed environment without adequate supervision was begging for trouble.
Putting them in charge of hundreds of young boys in an enclosed environment without adequate supervision was begging for trouble.
The manner in which the Christian Brothers inducted and indoctrinated their personnel was a recipe for disaster and the outcome, which has now finally been laid bare, inevitable.
Because of the authoritarian and domineering culture which prevailed, the foundation was in place for what was to follow.
Some Christian Brothers did not join the order of their own free will and were forced into the clergy by their families. Put that pent -up anger, sexual frustration, and corporal punishment into the mix and you're asking for big trouble.
But there was another side to the Brothers. They were for everyone and affordable. So when the Christian Brother recruiters, Bro Hutton and Bro Flannery, came around when I was in sixth class, I signed up. I wanted to be a Christian Brother. My desire and idealism drove me on for almost five years, pulling up just short of getting the sutane in the novitiate in Booterstown.
When I arrived in Carriglea Park in Dun Laoghaire it was a world apart from my home in St Evin's Park -- four large dormitories named after saints, a massive refectory, recreation halls, playing pitches, a church, big kitchens with Aga cookers and a farm. We were fitted out in our black blazers with their facere et docere crests, To Do and To Teach.
I met boys from everywhere, Mount Sion, the North Mon, O'Sullivan's Quay, Tralee, Callan, Limerick and other Christian Brother strongholds in Dublin, Synge Street, Drimnagh Castle and James Street, and lads from places I had never heard of until then, Two-Mile-Borris and Ballyea.
I learned a lot and I prayed a lot. We were preparing to take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. The latter two were later to prove the deal-breakers.
The average day ran from 7am to 10pm, punctuated by a lot of study, St Thomas Aquinas and silence to permit reflection. The only woman in my life was Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.
My favourite times were the Sunday walks to Dun Laoghaire pier, the obelisk in Killiney or along the Vico Road in Dalkey and back then for tea and buns. There were the occasional trips into town on the 46A or Croke Park for the big matches.
Each term there were the hikes to Three Rock, the Sugar Loaf and the Scalp, followed by a big nosh-up at the foot of the mountain and a movie back in the study hall. You were allowed one visit from your family a term and we went home for holidays, with a note to our parents urging them to keep us out of the cinema and away from girls.
In all my years there I never heard of anyone being sexually abused or even approached, though there were whispers of two particular brothers being 'queers'.
There were regular 'talks' about 'special friends' not being allowed, and at first I hadn't a clue what they were talking about.
There was plenty of bullying and physical abuse both from the Brothers and fellow students. You just took your medicine and got on with it.
Even though I had never kissed a girl with intent, even back then I thought the whole idea of a celibate life was stupid and unnatural. But in the end I parted ways with the Christian Brothers, not over a woman but two Cork men.
An easy-going Bro Healion from Mayo had been replaced as superior by a more hard line Bro Long. His nemesis was Joe Hyde, who had a mad smile and the stocky build of the classic nippy corner forward.
In a seniors versus teachers GAA match, Joe Hyde was the star and had already knocked over five points when I put him through on goal and he duly obliged.
Turning away in celebration he was bursted by the Bro Superior, who stood over him as he lay stretched on the ground.
I had to be physically restrained as I let Bro Long know what I thought of his bloody Christian Brothers.
I packed up my suitcase for the last time and got ready to go home.
I contacted my folks and my mum simply asked, "Are you okay, did anything happen, do you know what I mean, did anyone touch you?"
No one touched me, but unfortunately the Christian Brothers failed to live up to their name and founding principles.
I have never heard from the Christian Brothers since.
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