It all began back at St. Patrick School on 6th and Harding Avenues starting with kindergarten all the way through the eighth grade. At the time, the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts Society were in charge and operated the establishment as well as few selected dedicated lay teachers. Back then, requirements for teacher's credentials were a high school diploma and a willingness to teach. Discipline was the basic rule and corporal punishment was the common practice. I fondly remembered we use to have nicknames for some of our beloved tutors in those early days of matriculation. I can still see and hear our first grade teacher, Sister Mary Beatrice, whom we reverently referred to as "the Wild Beast". She had a high pitch screech and a distinct sternness in her voice to make any kid pray and look forward to recess time. She carried a heavy thick ruler solely dedicated for those who didn't pay attention or talked out of line. I can still hear the "whack, whack, ow-wee, ow-wee" from my poor old classmates crying out for heavenly mercy.
Quite possibly, many of them now have kids or grandkids experiencing the very same kinds of discipline we had back in those days at ole' SPS. Maybe not as physical as we had experienced, but hopefully, with more modern psychological approaches and behavioral disciplines of today's education system. Many would disagree with yesterday's practices saying that corporal punishment was cruel child abuse, but somehow when I look back, I couldn't see anything wrong with it. In many ways, I consider Sister Mary Beatrice one of my formidable mentors who influenced and instilled many of the disciplines I carry with me today due to that type of "holy fear".
There was also Miss Silva, my second, third, and fourth grade teacher. I guess she had an attachment for our class as much as we had for her that she voluntarily moved up with us for those consecutive three years. All in our class loved her as much as she loved us and treated us just like her own children. To this day, I don't ever think she married or was ever attached. Ah, Miss Silva, she was such a religious person who carried herself with grace and charm.
The cafeteria gang headed by Mrs. Hoke and all of the other friendly lady helpers were like our extended family. I can still remember and taste Mrs. Hoke's shortbread butter cookies that she sold after school for 5 cents a slice on a cookie sheet and the various flavored "ice cakes" for the same price. Root beer, strawberry, lime, grape, and orange all frozen in a small wax-papered cup. She also had Dairyman's strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla ice cream cups for 6 cents as well as double Popsicle sticks. During recess time, we dumb kids used to go and pick up the discarded Popsicle sticks and weave them into a triangular wedge to be thrown as a flying Frisbees disintegrating on impact. Now that I think about it, what an unsanitary thing to do! Oh, what the heck, we were just hanabuddah kids having fun.
Back in the fifties, it was common to have three to five kids in a family unit and all attending the same school. A few of my childhood friends attended public school where there were no dress codes like we had at St. Patrick's. We students were mandated to wear the long sleeved khaki shirt and pants with a long green SPS tie. The girls too had to wear dark green dresses and white blouses with the SPS shamrock emblem. The rules were strict, but if you wanted to a student there, you had to conform. Discipline and conformance was the theme.
We also had the so-called "gangs" not like what society calls them now but were quite tame by today's comparison. The "gangs" were social cliques of young boys and even girls going around trying to act tough. They had names like the "Belgians" and the "Tomcats". Occasionally, fights would occur when two bulls would meet behind the back of the kindergarten building and slug it out until someone would cry or give up. That was the extent of a "tangle" as we called it back then. The way one dressed would tell everyone how tough one actually was. The tough guys would comb their hair in the infamous pomade-greased "chicken ass" hairdos all while wearing the wide bellbottom pants or "drapes" as it was known then, to portray their so-called gangster appearance. The rowdy girls would wear several wide hooped-skirts or slips (the wider the rowdier) to be in current fashion. That sure seemed a far cry from today's version of being in a "gang".
On the festive side, I can remember one of the better and fonder memories while attending St. Patrick's and it was their annual carnival. Parents as well as students participated directly or indirectly in making the carnival a success. Product donations as well as physical services were welcomed. Oh, how I remember the teriyaki BBQ meat sticks for one script (10 cents) and the Ferris wheel and caterpillar rides for two scripts. The aromas of cotton candy and saimin broth still make me salivate as I think about it. It was a time when everyone pulled together and donated their time and effort all in for the betterment of the school and student scholarships.
Prior to the carnival, all of the students had to sell a minimum amount of carnival script during the Spring season of every year. The competition for selling script was hot and furious. Personal prizes were also awarded to whomever sold the most. The class or classes that sold the highest amount of script had the privilege to go on a school-sponsored field trip or picnic on the school buses with all of their classmates and teachers. The most common venue was either Ala Moana Beach Park or the beachfront facility of St. Stephen's in Hauula. Wherever it was, we didn't care. We were all so young, enjoying life, and whether we liked it or not, proud vanguard members of the new baby boomer generation. Ah, yes... to re-live the days of hanabuddah youth...all gone but not forgotten.
About Author
Clinton Lee lived in the Kaimuki area on Oahu andattended St. Patrick School in the 50's and St. Louis High School and Chaminade College inthe 60's. He now lives in Torrence, California.
