Immaculata Revisited

 

 

They come from Canada and Cuba—Trinidad and Thailand. From Italy, Iran, and India. They come from Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia; from Mexico, Puerto Rico, and Santo Domingo. They come from 29 foreign countries. They are, for the most part, bi-lingual. Some speak three or four languages; a few know only their native tongue. Some are little and lithe, with straight, jet-black hair and handwriting like a calligrapher’s. Others have round faces with soft features, large dark eyes, and melodious names. Arrayed in their native garb they would present, not a chaotic conglomeration, but a colorful kaleidoscope, crafted by an Infinite Creator. And who are they? Delegates to the United Nations? Member of the World Trade Center?

No, they are the 146 foreign-born students who comprise 20 percent of the enrollment of Immaculata High School. They are a polyglot people who enrich the lives of the native American students and teachers while themselves undergoing an acculturation process. Their presence is but one evidence of the myriad changes which have taken place since Immaculata began in 1921. Juxtaposing two generations would bring the gradual adaptations of the past 50 years into sharp relief. To do this, however, the school scene had to be viewed by someone from the early days who had not been witness to the year-by-year transition.

So, on a cold January day, while the 1977–1978 student body prepared for semester examinations, Lucille Mollan Hamilton, and Emily Smith Binsfeld spent a few hours at their Alma Mater dislodging anecdotes and comparing the pristine period of the 1920s with the supersonic 70s.

Spontaneous exchanges between Lucille and Emily spilled out as they decoded a portrait of their Junior-Senior Banquet and mentally updated the faces of dozens of the 183 graduates. Many are quickly identified because they had been present for the gold reunion of the class in 1975. Inscribed June 2, 1925, the 32-inch banquet photograph captured the two classes under the protecting Alphonso Iannelli sculpture of Our Lady which dominates the auditorium entrance of the school. Lucille and Emily have good reason to remember the scene, for there they are in the front row—members of the Charter Class. Remarkably, they recalled not only younger versions of themselves, but the banquet’s site and menus: a massive tent on the campus, roast spring chicken, au gratin potatoes, and butter succumbing to the Chicago heat.

Beginning a tour of the school, the two women stood momentarily in the library in the 1920s. Emily recounted the care with which a student handled the volumes on those rare occasions when she was free from class to use the small library. A similar regard for the treasures of knowledge and enjoyment hidden on the printed page seemed evident in the bright, spacious new library situated in the 1856 addition to the school. Here Lucille and Emily saw a collage of teenagers pursuing the time-honored custom of cramming for exams.

 

A three-room media center on the lower level of the school forms an adjunct to the library and encourages the faculty and students to explore filmstrips, records, tape recordings, and films as another avenue of learning. Acquaintance with the Eddie Doherty family prompted Lucille to look for one of his books while in the library. Her delight was complete when she was presented with a duplicate copy of “Gail and Honey.” A long visit would have revealed several volumes by Hilaire Belloc, the famous Paris-born British author who addressed the Immaculata students when Lucille and Emily were in school.

A discussion of assemblies ensued. In those days members of the audience had to be prepared to write a summary of the speaker’s main points. Less important, but better remembered, was the fact that the students kept their feet flat on the floor, crossing neither knees nor ankles of the “limbs.” Sister Mary Justitia Coffey, BVM, first principal of The Immaculata, had established high standards for deportment and scholarship. Throughout the social upheavals of a depression, World War II, the Korean and Vietnamese Conflicts, and the riots of the 60s, Immaculata has striven to retain the essence of these standards. Assemblies today still bring a bit of the larger world to the Immaculata scene. Recently, the students heard the Clarke College drama students’ production, “A Night with Dylan Tomas.” No one, however, would vouch for the number of uncrossed “limbs.”

The small oratory on the second floor evoked reminiscences of “chapel veils” and cautions against trying to look “like brides.” Lucille and Emily inquired about present-day religious practices and seemed pleased to learn that Immaculata has the services of a chaplain, and that school-wide liturgies are planned by the students in their religion classes. Several faculty members are extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist and have assisted in preparing students for reception of the Sacrament. Candlelighting and May Crowning have been modified, though not entirely forgotten. Retreats, too, have changed from all-school activities to smaller group experiences. The basic spiritual needs of the students have not changed, but the ways of meeting them have been modernized. Retreats today are conducted away from the school at the Cenacle, Resurrection Center, or other near-by facilities, such as Mundelein College or Loyola University.

Recollections of liturgies and retreats naturally evoked memories of choral singing, Sister Mary Rafael Bird and Sister Mary Emilia Henneberry, four-part Latin hymns, and the St. Cecilia Day recitals. Latin is not too popular these days, although the reintroduction of the subject into last year’s curriculum may bode a renewal of interest. The organ has been replaced to some extent by the guitar at liturgies, but all the stops are out when the student body intones, “We love you, Alma Mater, and your colors gold and blue . . .” And so the customs of one age are passed on to another.

The women viewed the home economics laboratories before leaving the second floor. The modern kitchen areas, a microwave oven, washer, and dryer in a room redecorated a year ago by the students in an Interior Design class, proved a great contrast to the 1921 home economics department in the “carriage house” of the Ralph Greenlee mansion, first convent and school of Immaculata. After visiting the large, modern clothing lab where the students listened to music from a portable radio while they constructed their garments, Emily and Lucille looked out on the back campus. From their window view they tried to visualize the old mansion where all their freshman classes had been held. They remembered the groundbreaking ceremonies in December 1921, and writing poems to be placed in the cornerstone of the first Immaculata building. In September 1922, they started classes in a building hailed in a Chicago Tribune item as “last word in high schools” and “one of the finest institutions of its kind in the country.” The architectural achievement of Barry Byrne has proven the Tribune correct as witnessed in 1977 by its enrollment in the National Register of Historic Places.

Climbing to the third floor, Emily and Lucille looked in on the well-equipped physics and chemistry laboratories before going into the three-room business department. They were impressed with the number of electric typewriters available to the students but wondered if the adding machines and electronic devices produced more efficiently than Sister Mary Placidia’s girls in their “rapid calculations” demonstrations.

 

Gym uniforms became the topic when the women reached the gymnasium en route to the cafeteria for lunch. In vogue in the 20s were middy blouses and long black skirts over black bloomers, designed apparently to inhibit movement in direct proportion as they covered those offending “limbs.” Today’s athlete moves swiftly and surely, covering the entire basketball court, suited up for unencumbered movement. Of course, such radical innovations were not arrived at willy-nilly. Ankle-high gym shoes and one-piece suits worn in the 30s and 40s were as transitional as they were progressive. Lucille remembered Miss Bonnie Ann O’Connor, first director of physical education, preparing the students for their parts in the annual Yuletide Festival. Perhaps a search of the gym would reveal all those Indian clubs and dumbbells used for countless drills. Today’s students are more apt to demonstrate their talents in a variety show, drama festival, speech meet or debate tournament, and the dedicated sports enthusiasts bring home more trophies than the cases will hold.

From gym uniforms, the talk naturally flowed to school uniforms. E.R. Moore Company on Dakin Street would outfit the student of the 1920s in blue serge for a mere $23.75. Today a young lady pays almost that for a pair of slacks, an optional part of the uniform. Bright colors, plaids, and checks in washable polyesters have replaced uniform serge on students and sisters alike.

Modes of transportation in the 20s were part of the luncheon conversation. (The menu, as if testifying to the intransigence of some things, was chicken!) Most students arrived via public transit, street cars or elevated trains, although at least one student possessed an electric car. Generations of Immaculata students share with Emily and Lucille vivid recollections of the long line of serge-clad students being convoyed silently to the streetcar stops. Waiting fathers or brothers would have received warmer signs of recognition from amnesia victims than from their kith and kin.

There is ample material here for several research topics for the imaginative sociologist. And the exploits of Sister Mary Clemenze Adams and the big blue school bus of the 40s and early 50s pale the Orient Express. Students of the 70s still use the excellent public transportation to reach Immaculata. They come today, as they did in 1921, from every part of the city. More than one student now has a parking permit for the school lot, however, and on warm days the bicycle rack is crowded with ten-speeds.

Tuition is no longer $30 a semester or $50 yearly, paid in advance. Those white, yellow, and blue “weekly certificates” of conduct and grades have been replaced by computerized honor rolls and report cards. There are no gym demonstrations, but the annual International Festival sponsored by the Human Relations Club is a spectacle reminiscent of the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. Ukrainian and Filipino dancers, black American and Mexican singers mobilize for celebration. Every ethnic group has an opportunity to display a part of its heritage and customs. Election year calls forth all the political savvy of the daughters of Erin as the Immaculata auditorium turns into the site of a national nominating convention. Jimmy Carter was selected standard bearer at Irving Park and Marine Drive long before the delegates to the Democratic Convention made it official. Some fine Immaculata traditions have doubtlessly been casualties of progress; others have met with a timely demise to be replaced with others. What then does remain constant at Immaculata?

Both Emily and Lucille agree that there is an evident interest in the students by the faculty. The atmosphere may be more relaxed and warmer, but the concern could not be any greater than it was in the 20s. The school is still a place of serious learning. The curriculum is modified periodically to meet the needs of a changing society, but the fundamentals are still stressed. A high percentage of the students go on to further education following graduation. Seventy-five to eighty percent of the graduates of the past few years are now engaged in some type of post-secondary schooling.

There is an intangible spirit about Immaculata which seems impervious to time and resistant to age. Though much has changed, more remains the same. Providing a Catholic education, comprehensive in scope, is still the primary goal of Immaculata High School. The Sisters of Charity, BVM, collaborating with their lay counterparts, endeavor to continue the congregation’s tradition of meeting the religious and educational needs of young women. Adaptation has kept Immaculata vibrant and viable. The blue and gold haven’t faded, the friendships haven’t lessened, the dedication hasn’t diminished, and the learning hasn’t stopped in over 50 years.