The Hallowian - Volume I 2021 - Flipbook - Page 42
We talked about long absences and the tyranny
of distance (‘in my four years at All Hallows’, mum
and dad never came down once’), and the joys of
long journeys home—made more tolerable by the
company of Nudgee boys on the train!
But most of all, what I was witness to that day was
the strength of sisterhood, the loving, supportive
bonds of friendship forged on cold Sunday mornings
(‘the pathway up to the Chapel was freezing’) and
across interminably hot summer terms (‘The girls
you lived with became your family. You shared your
highs and lows with them’.).
What struck me was that these women—mothers,
grandmothers, wives and widows—all active,
independent, loving, giving, contributing members
of families and communities—were products of
an education not only based on Mercy values, but
also of a progressive, socially responsive, feminist
philosophy embedded long ago in Catherine
McAuley’s strident belief that, ‘No work of charity
can be more productive of good to society than the
careful instruction of women.’
It started with a request from our Archives team. They
were looking for first-hand information about what it
was like to be a boarder at All Hallows’ in the 1950s,
and thought I might contact some past pupils who
could provide a few facts.
I sent out an email—a polite request containing a list of
standard questions despatched to some names I knew
or who had been recommended to me. If I got a couple
of responses (after all we are talking over 60 years ago)
I would have been happy.
Instead, I got an invitation. ‘Your email has got us all
thinking, and remembering, so we’re meeting for lunch
this Friday. Would you like to join us?’
And that’s how I came to share lunch and a sentimental
journey with four fabulous All Hallows’ girls from the
Class of 1959.
40
The Hallowian | 2021
There was our host, Rosie Russell (Brady), Di Joseph
(Geyer), Rita Farrell (Kettle) and Colleen Smythe
(Wallis). Rosie was in fact a ring-in. She had been a day
girl (‘I can remember going home on a Friday afternoon
and thinking those poor kids. I used to think, thank
God it wasn’t me!’), but Di, Rita and Colleen had all
been boarders.
Despite the fact that back then, day girls and boarders
were actually discouraged from being friendly, this
group clearly shared treasured experiences and mutual
respect that had sustained them for over 60 years.
Not surprisingly, they welcomed me with warmth and
candour, and ushered me kindly through a catalogue of
their reminiscences.
We talked for hours, and could have talked for more.
We talked about the Sisters, their strength and their
kindness, their standards (‘they were great teachers’)
We talked about music lessons (and sister Mary Oliver’s
unexpected passion for jazz), sub-Senior concerts and
performance anxiety (‘my knees were shaking until I
looked down and saw Sister Mary Ronan smiling’).
“
“
Ladies I Lunched With
and their expectations (‘they wanted us to be ready
for whatever happened [in life]’), their genuine joy in
weddings, babies and careers (‘they liked to be part of
your life’), their kind letters that continued long after
school days, and their unexpected presence, even years
later, in times of sadness and loss.
But most of all, what I was
witness to that day was the
strength of sisterhood, the
loving, supportive bonds of
friendship forged
Case in point, these four women became a
microbiologist (Rita), a physiotherapist (Diane), a
nurse (Rosie) and a teacher (Colleen)—not much
different to any quartet of past pupils you might
encounter today. Except that they graduated over 60
years ago.
We talked about dining room pecking order and protocol,
the day the Queen went by (there was a funny anecdote
about Elaine Dunlea virtually throwing stuffed animals at
Her Majesty), about contraband razors slid surreptitiously
under shower doors as shaving legs was taboo and
plucking eyebrows, well it was a ‘mortal sin’. We talked
about the fallout—literally and metaphorically—from
the day one boarder cut her hair, threw the tresses out
the window and they landed at the feet of Sister Mary
Loretto!
And so the story, the friendship and the legacy
continue, curated by every cohort and accumulated
across each generation.
We talked about the popular girls and their unbelievably
tiny waists (double belts apparently), Pauline with
peroxide hair that went green after swimming, the clever
girls, the talented girls, and sadly, the ones we’ve lost.
Maree Nugent – Past Pupils’ Liaison
Thank you for lunch, ladies. I went away uplifted by
your memories and moments, and weighed down
by a cache of memorabilia destined lovingly for the
Archives.
Let’s do it again sometime.
2021 | The Hallowian
41