Wrapped in the Flag by Claire Conner Read Free Book Online

my mother’s positive assessment of my new school. She described Regina as “orthodox” and its curriculum as “traditional.” To my ears, these terms meant that my new school had passed parental muster; my father and mother would have no reason to continue their feud with the Catholic school system in Chicago.
    Besides all of that, in early 1959, my parents had escalated to really big worries: international conspiracy and imminent overthrow of the United States government. Words in textbooks had to take a distant back seat . . . or so I thought.

    The night before my first day of high school, I could barely sleep. I fretted about my hair, finding my classes, and whether I’d have a place to sit at lunch. By morning, I was too tired to talk and too worried to choke down my breakfast. “You’re acting like a prima donna,” Mother said. “Eat your meal and go to school.”
    That day lasted forever, but I survived. The next day and the one after that got easier. Before long, Latin declensions and conjugations made sense; solving for X became possible, and I could diagram complex sentences. New friends greeted me in the halls, and I found a group to share lunch.
    One day, I looked in the mirror and smiled. “I’m a Regina girl and I’m glad.” I had to give my mother credit; she’d picked the perfect high school for me.
    A few weeks later, my mother announced her plan to look more closely into my education.
    “Why? I thought you approved of Regina,” I said.
    “Don’t question your mother, young lady. Bring your books home, all of them.”
    Soon enough, Mother and Dad had uncovered a nest of “errors, lies, and mistakes” in every one of my books.
    “We have to go to the powers that be,” Mother announced.
    The next day, in hat and gloves, Mother strode to Regina’s main office, the click-click of her three-inch pumps echoing across the tile floor. White index cards, marking dubious passages, poked from the top and sides of the books she carried. Before long, the girls in my classes noticed.
    “She’s here,
again
,” someone would whisper. I’d groan and turn away.
    At first, the Regina staff accommodated Mother, but as the year progressed, she became a nuisance. Sister Mary Kevin, the principal, and my teachers found as many ways as possible to avoid her. Calls were not returned;scheduled meetings were abruptly canceled. Even her letters went unanswered.
    Mother grew frustrated and enlisted Dad’s help. When he tried to ratchet up the pressure, the administration dug in all the deeper. Finally, my parents decided to take their concerns public.
    During the spring meeting of the Regina Parents’ Association—even though they weren’t on the agenda—Mother and Dad interrupted the proceedings to give a detailed analysis of the pro-Communist, anti-American materials hiding in the textbooks. When other parents shouted my parents down, the meeting abruptly ended. Mother and Dad packed up their materials and left. No one spoke to them. 3
    When I heard about the spring-meeting fiasco, I kept saying to myself, “This has nothing to do with me.” I tried to keep my head down, my grades up, and my opinions to myself. For the next few months, I thought I was successful.
    Shortly before summer vacation, Sister Mary Kevin called me to her office. She spoke about her prayers for my future and the need to find a suitable place for me.
    “What? You’re expelling me?” I said through tears.
    “Well, I’m sure you’ll be happier somewhere else,” Sister told me.
    “I’m perfectly happy here.”
    “I’m sorry, dear. God bless you.”
    With that, I was escorted from her office to my locker. My things had already been removed and stacked neatly on the floor. Before the dismissal bell rang, I was out the door where my mother was waiting to drive me home. She said nothing about what had just happened. “I have a flock of pressing things to finish before dinner” was her only comment.
    That evening, my