Prompt: Embroidery Thread - Free Write #4

Part 1:

      The aftermath of a revolution birthed a Sisterhood that built schools for girls, hoping for a free t-shirt, but did needle point instead.

      Educate empowered young women, in an atmosphere, the faculty would say, overflowing with graces and blessings.

      The girls would point to their chests, naming their breasts. Graces and blessings.

 

Part 2:

      The Aftermath of a Revolution.

      A fleeing nun survived in France. An aristocrat spared the guillotine.

      A country to rebuild. Start with the children. Start with the mothers, wives, and homemakers. They will keep on teaching when the founders are done.

 

Part 3:

      Birthed a sisterhood.

      The abbeys were gone. The faith leaders fled or they were now dead. Both innocent and guilty. No money from aristocrats. No soldiers to protect you from harm. So lets begin in the small farming town of Namur.

 

Part 4:

      Built schools for girls.

      When no one thought is was essential or needed or a waste of time and money. “They are needed at home,” most would say.  But when you rebuild a society, you start from within.

      The power of hearth and home.

 

Part 5:

      Girls that just wanted a free t-shirt…

      To advertise their cause and concern with their copies of the feminine mystique. So far only one chapter read. The AP exams and honors latin ate up their time. Their restlessness for you change, bordering on anxiety. Sitting in lime green colored classrooms. Day after day after Day.

 

Part 6:

      In Catholic school, they tell us to pray everyday, thanking god for our graces and blessings. (The freshman giggle in the back row.)

      I would pray if I slept more then 5 hours.

      I would pray if my rosary wasn’t a bookmark in my ACT prep book.

      If I hadn’t been told that action must be taken and must be taken now, while I’m forced to do nothing.

      Just sit and loathe the nothingness that comes from prayer.

 

Part 7:

      But we did needlepoint instead.

      A religious history class, taught by the angel Mrs. Riley, and the importance of female roles. We learn about the saint and our founder, St. Julie Billiart and the blessed Francoise. We learn about the dear departed Sister Dorthy Stang who died defending the Amazon and the natives left to the mercy of the bulldozing corporations. A martyr for a just cause, a modern hero. Yet we’re still told to look both ways when we cross the street and don’t leave the house after midnight.

So we sit and we do needlepoint. A past-time tradition or from a syllabus at the turn of the century. Still a tradition that was better off in another era.

 

Part 8:

      Birthed a Revolution.

      Emily sits next to me, a daughter of Irish immigrants, says, “My dad saw me working on this and said, ‘that school is training you to be a good housewife.’”

      I was never sure if either were joking. I put down the needle. My finger red from the pricking. I didn’t pick it back up again.

 

Part 9:

      A Revolutionary Sisterhood.

      Or so they made it seem. Nearly 200 hundred years and like the vatican, so hesitant to change.

      The trouble with Angels, they would say as we cut off the hood on our hoodies. Defeating the purpose and doing our best to look scruffy. My girlfriends and I, dreaming of better times.

 

Part 10:

      Building Schools…

      Are like building bridges. Studying College Prep and thinking through the 17 year old horror:

      ‘Oh my God! What am I doing with my life?!’

      Keep moving forward. It will take you somewhere. It will take you away.

 

Part 11:

      Needlepoint…

      Is an art for home decor unless you create art and call yourself professional.

      Embrace the society yet work to change it.

      Personify, beautify, and portray.

      Prick the issue with a needle. Then its art.

 

Part 12:

      Sisterhood.

      I was never one for homemaking. I knew it then as I know it now.

      Only this time I don’t have a T-shirt to prove it.

 

Part 13:

      Girls.

      Between the founding sisterhood. The abundance of flowers, rosaries, and the gaudy painted statues of Jesus and Mary.

      We rebelled more then obeyed. Broke Rules and tried to exceed expectations. We weren’t conservative enough to fit in a box.

 

Part 14:

      The aftermath.

      College Years brought freedom. Still the restlessness remained.

      I struggled to find words and structure.

      And I hated myself for it.

 

Part 15:

      Free T-shirts.

      So such a thing once existed?

      Don’t see it anymore.

      Everyone’s pinching pennies now I guess.

      But nothing good in life comes free.

 

Part 16:

      So instead…

      Of freaking out about the future, our futures, we embraced it. Or we settled.

      I’m still not sure which.

 

Part 17:

      Build schools.

      Build bridges.

            My college years end and I feel restless again.