The nicest people on the outside were very different behind closed doors. I have been getting pushback, particularly about Barbara Roberts tweets.
A memoir from Written on: January 20, The year was I did not want to go to Bergen but my domineering father whose self-interests for me showed no concern whatsoever for mine, or anyone else's, feelings forced me into the school.
I remember taking a long test for placement in the school in the gymnasium and I recall receiving the acceptance form. I had mixed feelings about this, having just spent eight years under the tutelage of Dominican nuns and the Sisters of Charity.
The experiences with the nuns during those years were traumatic. Many of us kids were humiliated and intimidated by the nuns on an ongoing basis.
The image of a stern nun in full habit, bearing down on you with ruler in hand is the stuff of nightmares. Unbeknownst to me then, my experiences with the nuns were nothing in comparison to what was to come at the hands of the Irish Christian Brothers in Bergen Catholic High School the following two years.
Kevin Malone - Ven. Kobutsu Malone The first days in Bergen Catholic were disorienting. It was my first exposure to an all male environment and my first dealings with Brothers. I was assigned to Room 34 as my homeroom, in what was then the new extension to the original school building.
It was intimidating at first meeting the teachers, Brothers and lay men, who taught at how to write a killer sat essay college confidential school. Up until that point in time I had only had women as teachers and suddenly the teachers were all men.
As teenagers in the mid sixties, we were very naive, not having been exposed to much beyond the confines of the Catholic schools that most of us had attended before coming to Bergen Catholic. We had universally been taught that teachers, and especially, priests, nuns and brothers were to be held in high esteem and could do no wrong.
To us, they represented the direct intervention of the Church and God himself. We had no knowledge of the psychology of oppression or the idea of child abuse, or even heard the word "pedophile. Only in retrospect, looking back at the experiences some thirty five years later can I even begin to communicate what I, and certainly many of my fellow students, went through in that place.
In our freshman class we were introduced to the teachers of the subjects on day one. Brother Charles Borromeo Irwin was his name; he taught us freshman mathematics and served as the school treasurer. Charles Borromeo Irwin I remember clearly the first day this individual came to the classroom.
He was unkempt, smelled of stale tobacco, with nicotine stained fingers, yellow teeth and had the most hateful demeanor I had ever encountered. He would make snorting noises in an attempt to clear his sinuses instead of using a handkerchief.
He would wipe his nose with his hand and then wipe the snot from his hand on his clothes or into his hair. He would terrorize us orally with tirades of abuse, shouting out loudly without warning, calling individual students "cretin, retard, pot-head, idiot, bungler" and "toad.
A kid'll eat ivy too, Wouldn't you? His behavior was bizarre to say the least; he built on the terror he projected, taking delight in the trauma and meanness he spewed forth on us kids. This individual was given total authority over a class of thirty some odd adolescent boys.
These young men were subject to him in private for forty minutes every day of the school week, we endured his presence through over classes that year. His irrational behavior was obvious from the start; we all feared him right off the bat and as time progressed, our unmentionable fears became paramount in our days at school.
Irwin was a math teacher, and well accustomed to having his way with students. He had the habit of walking up and down the rows of the classroom while he talked or while we were doing tests or assignments.
Periodically he would assign us work and retired to the back corner of the classroom near and open window and have a cigarette, heaven help the boy who dared to turn and look at him thus disposed.
Irwin's most traumatic actions consisted of engaging in a verbal tirade over the stupidity of a particular student followed by a walk down the aisle next to the targeted student's desk.
Irwin was a tall skinny man, with an evident potbelly and pronounced slouch, he was far and away taller than all of the boys.
His physical size coupled with his nasty demeanor and our lack of ability to communicate was totally intimidating.
I sat in the desk directly in front of the teacher's desk in the classroom and we were required to sit at the same desks throughout the school year. I remember distinctly the first time Irwin molested a student in the classroom.Watch "Awaiting ruling in CNN v.
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