We Belong

We Belong

 

 

When Gian Lorenzo Bernini began to construct his colonnade on St.Peter’s Square in 1656, he gave life to a structure designed to resemble the arms of Mother Church "stretching out to receive Catholics, so as to confirm them in their faith, [separated brethren] to reunite them with the Church, and [non-Christians] to enlighten them in the true faith." 

When Bernini had finished his structure, his students began to populate it with 140 statues of saints and martyrs. The statues represented saints, both men and women, from various parts of the then-known world, beginning with people from the beginning of the church until the-then present day. Bernini‘s communion of Saints reminds those in the square that “catholic” means “universal” and that while the Church is composed of people from all different races, ethnicities, and time periods, there is a place for all of us.

It is a mindset underlying the gathering hymn “All Are Welcome” which many of us have sung in our parishes.

Bernini’s colonnade came to my mind as I have been reflecting on the professional development session we faculty members attended last Wednesday. Led by our Assistant Principal for Faculty Formation, Keri Grady; Vice President for Ignatian Community and Belonging, Drew Hudson; and Director of Community and Belonging, Dr. Richard Austin ’10; the session focused on ways to make sure that our students not only feel welcomed at Saint Ignatius, but also that they belong here.

Over the years I’ve been privileged to teach in the Summer Enrichment Program where each June we invite rising eighth graders to sample life here at Saint Ignatius. They take 35-minute classes with a number of faculty members, interact with young men who will potentially become their classmates, and are led and counseled by some of our current students. Inevitably we talk about the spirit of brotherhood that so characterizes the experience of Saint Ignatius students.

It is one of the biggest selling points, I think, of the school.

Looking back over my own high school career I have to admit that it was a good experience. I learned from among the finest teachers anyone could ever have and I was introduced to young men who have been my best friends ever since. My experience was fairly typical for Saint Ignatius men: I’ve been in the weddings of many of my friends, I am Godfather to some of their children, and I married one of their sisters. It was—while not the best time of my life—a legitimately good one. I’m glad I went here and proud to be a Wildcat. Because no matter what difficulties and obstacles may have come my way when I was here, one thing was certain: I always knew I belonged here. The brotherhood is real.

At least for most of us.

Over the years I have spent time with many of our alumni where we tell stories about teachers and students and experiences that we’ve had. They are wonderful, heartwarming, and affirming conversations. Almost always. But while that tends to be the case, there are others who’ve shared with me—with all tact and kindness—that while they attended Saint Ignatius, they never really felt like they belonged. Building on his own research—including discussions with some of our students—Dr. Austin noted that things haven’t necessarily changed: “[s]tudents arrive with immense promise and hope, but their transition is often an abrupt shift to feeling like an 'outsider’ in their own school.” He quoted a student who revealed that he came to Saint Ignatius with all sorts of hope and enthusiasm only to, by junior year, feel like school was “just something I gotta get through. I just show up, try not to do anything that’ll get me into too much trouble and just leave as soon as I can."

Given the joy my Ignatius experience has given me, I find that a terrible tragedy. One of the Universal Apostolic Preferences of the Society of Jesus is to “accompany young people in the creation of a hope-filled future.” These are the marching orders for those of us joining our Jesuit brothers in their ministry, and one can’t meaningfully accompany someone who doesn’t feel connected. In a school that focuses on cura personalis, one student feeling isolated is one too many.

Rich Austin and Drew Hudson have shared with us some of the research about belonging and its impact on the academic success of students. But more importantly, they remind us that our students come from over 100 different grade schools and middle schools, some of which have different cultures of learning than most of us teachers grew up with…and that many of our students have grown used to. Many come from neighborhoods and cultures where signs of affection or belonging that are commonplace for the majority of our boys can come across as invasive or threatening. Our session last week focused on ways to make our students feel more part of our community—and it was decidedly not by lowering academic expectations or fostering an “anything goes” approach to student life. Rather, in keeping with the mission to accompany our young people moving forward, we were encouraged to acknowledge the struggles our boys may be experiencing—even if we have not experienced those difficulties or even fully understand where our students are coming from…or agree with their vision of things.

We were encouraged to maintain high moral and intellectual standards, but in a compassionate, loving way offer support to our struggling students as they learn what it means to be a fully participating member of our community.

To be a part of the family.

What is true for Saint Ignatius High School is true for the Church writ large: ours is a family where people should know they are loved and cherished unconditionally. The arms of Mother Church—so beautifully represented by Bernini—are open to receive her children, but they are also open enough for them to walk away. And walk away they have been, not because the teachings of the Church are difficult (it’s always been tough to be Catholic), but because they lack a sense of belonging. We can accept challenges and high expectations—and we can deal with criticism, no matter how personal or difficult to hear—when we know that such criticism comes from those who truly have our best interests at heart and who cherish us regardless of our moral failings or intellectual struggles. We speak of Saint Ignatius as our Alma Mater (literally our “nourishing mother”) who has fed and fostered us. The Church—in Word and Sacrament—is Alma Mater to us as well. Both form us best when, like the women who raised us, they shape us in the midst of unconditional love: a love lavished most intensely on their children who may feel most alone.

Though the curmudgeon in me winces when the organist begins Mass with Marty Hagen’s song “All Are Welcome,” I can see why people would like to gather with this song: all should be “welcome in this place” when we celebrate the Eucharist. But if, as Catholics, we are to be most true to our identity (and if we have to focus on ourselves at Mass ;-)), perhaps it would be more “appropriate” to leave Hagen and sing with Pat Benatar:

We Belong

 

A.M.D.G. / B.V.M.H.