6. 8th Grade Science Project

DID I mention that I was a dog freak from an early age? Here I am in eighth grade with my science project. I'm in white (I especially like the bow at my neck – I think that was the first of many fashion accessories that I dropped when I started buying my own clothes at 18) and, as you can see, I loved bold colors. What a nerd.

4. Making the Grade

THE BEST lesson I learned in Catholic school was this: I am the best judge of my own progress.

I'M NOT against letter grades, but, when it comes to art, I'm the only one who knows if I'm happy with my improvement. Thank you Sister Rose Anita for teaching me that.

JUNIOR HIGH. I wasn't beautiful. I wasn't popular. I wasn't even funny. But I knew who I was and I liked myself. That did not endear me to the Immaculate Heart sisters, and it didn't take me long to be labeled.  I clung fiercely to my identity (rebel) and refused to give in (disobedient). I continued to laugh (stubborn). And, most of all, I loved to paint and I knew I had talent (proud).

ONE ART lesson stands out. It's Christmas time – the assignment is to paint a stained-glass window design. I'm in my happy place, quietly working, when Sister stops at my desk and asks if she can show my piece to the class. She takes it to her desk, folds my art into a tiny square, then proceeds to cut it up with scissors. She unfolds it, it falls in tiny pieces onto her desk, and she says, with a smile, "Oops, I did that wrong. I was trying to make a snowflake. But Nadi won't mind. She'll make another one."

I REFUSED (obstinate) and, as a result, received an F on the assignment. It was my first F. I should have been upset. I should have argued my case, told my parents, even cried. Nope. Not me. I smiled. I think I actually enjoyed it. I know I enjoyed the look on Sister's face.

I CONTINUED to paint at school, but only when assigned, and I never cared about my grade. But I loved working at home on my own. Only one painting remains from those days – Siamese Cat – and only because my parents framed it and hung it in the living room, where it remained for 40 years.

AND I ESCAPED those corridors. Not with humility and grace, maybe, but with anticipation of new adventures (hopeful), and with my confidence intact and tucked safely away in my back pocket (happy).

2. Crazy About Dogs

SIXTH GRADE was coming up, and my parents decided to send my 2 older siblings to Catholic school. I cried and begged to go as well, and they relented. The phrase 'be careful what you wish for' comes to mind.

I ARRIVED at my new school equipped with a solid understanding of what learning was all about: questions, curiosity, exploring and laughter. I was shocked when I learned I had been led astray and, for the next 3 years, I struggled against being stuffed into a box way too small. Everything was upside down.

I WAS TOLD to repent and ask forgiveness for my bad thoughts and actions. What bad thoughts and actions? All I wanted to do was hold puppies, read stories about them, and draw them.

I WAS CRAZY about dogs, something I've never outgrown. By 10, I had owned 2 of my own and been to my 1st dog show. But the nuns were worried. If my love were for horses, that would be normal for a girl my age, but because my obsession was for 4-legged animals of the canine variety, it was cause for concern. They considered it unhealthy and advised my parents to seek help for me, which they ignored.

A FEW YEARS ago, I painted this picture. I included it in shows with every intention of selling it. One day I looked at all the books and realized they were the best part of those school days, and so I decided not to sell it. It's hanging in my bedroom.