Photo c. 1950 - 1952
(The dolls were mere props and taken off us after the photo - the only dolls we ever had were little rag dolls we made ourselves with scraps of material.)
BACK ROW L - R : ?, Margaret Hope, Ann Roy, Phoebe Connolly, Mary Richardson?
FRONT ROW L - R : Kathleen Brennan**, Josephine Sewell, Maureen Seery?, Frances McDonald
** I recall one particularly harrowing incident involving my friend Kathleen Brennan who was punished for hitting a member of staff. She was taken into a room upstairs by three or four nuns where she was severly beaten by them. I can still hear her screams ringing out and the chunks of hair missing from her head when she emerged from the room. Kathleen was very badly bruised after the assault and was absent for school for a long time thereafter; it was said she had fallen down the stairs.
Following this incident, Kathleen, who I remember as a very feisty and determined girl, ran away from the home and managed to reach her father who she evidently related the abuse to, for shortly afterwards I recall being made to regularly put our 'best' bed-spreads on our beds which were normally just for 'special occassions' - these were orange and white stripped covers compared to our normal, dull, coarse green ones. The reason for this 'show' was that the incident must have been reported and inspectors started to come into the home.
During my years at St Joseph's it was, unfortunately, so easy for physical injury inflicted by staff members to go 'unnoticed'. At school it seems 'a blind eye' was turned and if I recall rightly, our medical was a once-a-year affair when a doctor would come into the home and we, in single file, were made to walk up a large flight of stairs which lead to the infirmary, past the doctor and out the door at the other side of the room and down another set of stairs at the other end. The doctor would stop a girl now and then - perhaps at random, perhaps if he observed something to investigate, otherwise that was it - no individual consulation, or inspection, no verbal exchange at all.
(The dolls were mere props and taken off us after the photo - the only dolls we ever had were little rag dolls we made ourselves with scraps of material.)
BACK ROW L - R : ?, Margaret Hope, Ann Roy, Phoebe Connolly, Mary Richardson?
FRONT ROW L - R : Kathleen Brennan**, Josephine Sewell, Maureen Seery?, Frances McDonald
** I recall one particularly harrowing incident involving my friend Kathleen Brennan who was punished for hitting a member of staff. She was taken into a room upstairs by three or four nuns where she was severly beaten by them. I can still hear her screams ringing out and the chunks of hair missing from her head when she emerged from the room. Kathleen was very badly bruised after the assault and was absent for school for a long time thereafter; it was said she had fallen down the stairs.
Following this incident, Kathleen, who I remember as a very feisty and determined girl, ran away from the home and managed to reach her father who she evidently related the abuse to, for shortly afterwards I recall being made to regularly put our 'best' bed-spreads on our beds which were normally just for 'special occassions' - these were orange and white stripped covers compared to our normal, dull, coarse green ones. The reason for this 'show' was that the incident must have been reported and inspectors started to come into the home.
During my years at St Joseph's it was, unfortunately, so easy for physical injury inflicted by staff members to go 'unnoticed'. At school it seems 'a blind eye' was turned and if I recall rightly, our medical was a once-a-year affair when a doctor would come into the home and we, in single file, were made to walk up a large flight of stairs which lead to the infirmary, past the doctor and out the door at the other side of the room and down another set of stairs at the other end. The doctor would stop a girl now and then - perhaps at random, perhaps if he observed something to investigate, otherwise that was it - no individual consulation, or inspection, no verbal exchange at all.
When the month of May came around so did an event that would light up our lives: 'Our Lady's Day'. Our drab, ugly every-day clothes - coarse, brown, box-pleat pinafores- were exchanged for what seemed to us the most beautiful, finest white dresses and pretty, flowing veils. For once we felt 'nice', parading the stature of the Virgin Mary around the pleasure garden by the nursery. To be allowed in that garden was another treat in itself as normally it was 'out-of-bounds', too nice for us, only the nuns worthy of such a priviledge. The garden was located on the top of the hill which, on this unique occassion, enabled us to see out down onto the world below - our unsual view of the outside world normally blocked from within the high walls of the yard and confines of the home.
Two of my friends in the home, popular girls, were sisters Olivia and Theresa Richardson. I recall that one year the annual play the nun's had chosen for us to perform was 'The Doll's House Party' by Clementine Ward. Olivia and Theresa had been assigned the role of 'little nigger dolls' and cheerfully sang song number 4. 'The little Nigger Doll', today so very politically incorrect, the words, which I still recall to this day being:
"I'm a little nigger doll, black as ebnoee,
The more I'm wash'd, The more I'm scrubb'd, The blacker I shall be!
My hair is thicky blackee wool, And always in a frizz,
For I was born in Nigger-land, By niggers I was riz!
(Chorus): Nig, nig, nigger doll, Worth a dozen whites,
Whish-y wash-y whitey folks,
Nigger thinks 'em frights!"
"I'm a little nigger doll, black as ebnoee,
The more I'm wash'd, The more I'm scrubb'd, The blacker I shall be!
My hair is thicky blackee wool, And always in a frizz,
For I was born in Nigger-land, By niggers I was riz!
(Chorus): Nig, nig, nigger doll, Worth a dozen whites,
Whish-y wash-y whitey folks,
Nigger thinks 'em frights!"