Are Your Memories Like Mine?

by Carol Ann (Chunks) Monette

          From January 1959 to May 1961, I attended Marty. I was in high school and lived in the girls’ dorm that I learned to call St. Joe’s. I remember the first time I entered the dormitory and was shown to my bed by Sr. Dorothy. There it was—a single bed in the middle of the dormitory with a foot locker and apple box with a homemade curtain that I would use for a night stand. I remember sitting on the bed that felt very unfamiliar. I had left a small modest home on the Turtle Mountain Reservation where we did not have running water or electricity. The ceilings in the dormitory seemed very high and dark in comparison.

          It took me about two weeks to get over my loneliness as I made friends and got into my routine. I went to bed early. The bell rang early in the morning and I fell on my knees to pray. Then we hustled to get in line and walk to the church for mass. After mass, we walked to the cafeteria for breakfast. I remember the coffee cake. It was fresh and sprinkled with brown sugar. I loved it. And, we had milk and coffee to drink. The boys ate and left the cafeteria on their own. The girls ate and waited for sister to walk us back to the dormitory. Like most high school girls, we liked the boys and we waited for them to walk past the window so we could flirt with them. If we got a little wave, it was even better. And, there was the kissing wall. Those who participated know where it was!!!

          Some mornings, it was our "charge" to go to the cafeteria instead of mass to help prepare breakfast for the students. There was a big vat of some sort that was filled with hot water. We took a gunny sack filled with coffee grounds and dropped it into the vat. We stirred it with a large paddle until we turned it into coffee. We poured this into pitchers and put it on the high school students’ tables. One time I looked into the pitcher and there was a cockroach floating in it. I remember calmly pouring out the coffee and replacing it with fresh coffee. Sorry friends. I don’t remember washing the pitcher before I put coffee back onto it. I keep telling myself I must have washed it first, but I am not sure. We ate breakfast and went to do our “charge.” Over the years I had a number of different charges. I remember preparing breakfast, cleaning the dorm, cleaning the hallway in the high school, washing dish towels, cleaning the priests’ dining room, and working at the dish washer. When you were lucky enough to get to work with your best friend, the charge could be lots of fun. I remember when Loretta Morin and I got to work in the priests’ dining room together. We were off from the other students so we would sing country western songs, tell jokes and talk about boys. Overall, life was regimented and orderly. And, if you had a plain name like mine, you usually ended up with a nickname. Mine was Chunks.

          Our common experience was sports. I was fortunate to be chosen to be a cheerleader and that meant we went to lots of basketball and football games. And, we were lucky to get to cheer for winning teams. There is lots of information on the Marty web site about those talented teams. Another activity we had was elocutions. I did not participate because I was pretty insecure in those days. But, we had people who won those speech contests as well. I also recall going to Vermillion where we participated in a craft contest of some sort. We used to do leather work and ceramics and we entered our projects in that contest.

          We arrived at Marty in the fall and stayed until spring. We went home for about two weeks at Christmas. For the rest of the time we stayed on campus. We attended school every day and had study hall at night. After that we usually had an hour in the evening to wash our socks, take baths, iron clothes, or sit and visit. Lights were out early and the next day it started all over again. I have often wondered what life would have been like if I had gone to school on my home reservation throughout high school and I have always been grateful that my parents sent me to boarding school for a couple of those years where I found lifelong friends.