By Anita Patel.
Walking to confession
Bless us Father
two by two in checked pinafores
and straw hats – glad to escape
out of the classroom into the sunshine…
just a short stroll to where you are waiting
to forgive us…
For we have sinned
mocking Sister Mary Immaculata’s
bum wobble and lying to our mothers
and smoking in the toilets and swigging
from a stolen bottle of Blackberry Nip…
We have sinned flaunting
our scarlet lips and boob tubes
and glittery toe nails and hot pants…
We have sinned hopping into panel vans,
hitching up our sports tunics
and unbuttoning our blouses to lure
hapless boys…
These are our sins…
But what are your sins dear Father –
sitting behind the shuttered
window in that dark cupboard
listening to our girlish misdemeanours,
mumbling benedictions
and handing out Hail Marys like bitter pills
to cure us of our badness?
What are your sins?
Have you confessed them?
And can they be instantly forgotten
walking back to school on a sunny Tuesday?
The conviction of George Pell prompted the writing of my poem:
“What Are Your Sins?” (on the following page)
Note from the author:
I was raised by a devoutly Catholic mother and sent to Catholic schools. I was not surprised by the uncovering of systemic sexual child abuse in the Catholic Church but it did make me reflect on so many moments of my childhood and my teenage years. The fact that the highest ranked Catholic in the land has been convicted of this crime is mind blowing – not because I have any doubt of his guilt but because this patriarchal institution is finally being called to account for its deeds.
How many priests who heard our confessions had so much more to confess?
Finally this narrative is being retold.