It Takes Courage

A letter from Mitch Salm (2005):

I come from a pretty small town, and, excluding eye and hair color, everyone is pretty much the same.  Everyone shares the same ethnic background and the same culture.  Everyone goes to the same parties, sees the same faces, and speaks the same language.  Even those “rebels” who try to act like they are from some big city fail miserably at standing out, and usually resort to fitting back in after their façade has worn out its novelty.  Most people from my town end up staying there. 

Now, there is nothing wrong with that.  I love my hometown dearly as well as the people who live in it.  That is why, when my parents presented the idea of St. Lawrence Seminary to me, I gave them a disbelieving stare, followed by an incredulous laugh that echoed the deep insecurities and uncertainties hidden underneath my faux image of teenage strength that I worked hard to portray.  They could not be serious.  They would not do that to me.  Not a year before my high school experience.  The experience that had been drilled into my mind by television and movies as one that would rival winning a new car on “The Prices Right.”  The experience that thousands say they would not trade for the world.  You know, the one that would really open my eyes and help me find my individuality.  The one where I would claim my independence from the childish bonds that I had been chained to for fourteen agonizing years of my life. 

They could not be serious.

They were serious.  “Just try it,” they said.  “Just give the school a chance.  Maybe you’ll like it.”

Like it?!?  How could I like it?  Maybe they didn’t read the brochure carefully enough.  Yea, they must have missed the part about it being an “all guys school.”  Didn’t they catch the words “Catholic,” “Seminary,” and, worst of all, “Boarding School?”  Didn’t they realize what this would do to me?  Didn’t they know how much this would mess up my social life, my schedule, and my plans.

I expected my dad to feel for me.  He grew up in Chilton, and he knew what I would be missing.  Whether he  knew it or not, I read his yearbook and knew of all of the crazy and wild things he had done when he was my age.”

He was a guy.  He would know about the damage that would be done to me if I were to be separated from girls.  Wouldn’t this mess my body up somehow?  Didn’t he even consider the emotional and psychological damage that this school would most assuredly be inflicting upon me? 

I searched his eyes for some sort of sympathy, compassion, or pity, but there was none.

“Mitch, just give it a chance,” he said.

That was the axe, the final blow, the swift and deciding strike that would determine the rest of my fate for eternity.  I didn’t bother to argue with him.  I knew it wouldn’t accomplish much, and besides, at the time self-pity looked more appealing then having my father win an argument.  Later that day I forced myself to believe that I wanted to go on a weekend visit to St. Lawrence  and I almost believed me.

The Thursday of my weekend visit, before I actually got to the “Hill of Happiness,” I told my friends that I would be out of town for the weekend.  I was really vague, and thankfully, they didn’t interrogate any further.  That morning I had packed my bags, and when the final bell rang at school, my Mom was there to drive me directly to Mt. Calvary.  What kind of a name was Mt. Calvary anyway?  And what kind of people go to this kind of school?  Questions raced through my mind like horses in the Kentucky Derby.

The school was hard to miss as we entered Mt. Calvary.  It stood on top of this hill on the outskirts of a little town.  As we drove up the hill, I was trying to think of other things, you know, anything besides the painful experience I was about to go endure.  My mom drove to the guest house and I got out of the car, busying myself with my bags while my mom talked to Mr. Ken, one of the Admissions Directors.  Before I knew what had happened, my mom was gone and I was with ten other guys who I didn’t know. 

As you have probably guessed, my weekend visit wasn’t the tormenting anguish I had anticipated.  Instead, it was an eye-opening experience that changed my entire outlook on the world.  I was blown away.  I met kids from all over the world, including places like Chicago, Wisconsin, Korea, and Indiana.  We experienced the classes at St. Lawrence as well as campus life on the weekend.  We saw the Talent Show, where kids were rocking out in their bands and acting in skits.  We hung out and ate pizzas in the Canteen.  The students at St. Lawrence weren’t like any I had ever seen.  They were mature, but in a different sort of way.  People who didn’t even know me said “Hi” to me.  They held doors for me.  They asked me how I was doing, and they genuinely wanted to know.  In one word, I was treated with “respect.”

I noticed some things inside of me after my weekend visit.

• I knew that I wanted more of what I had experienced at St. Lawrence.  Kids got respect by treating others with respect.
• I knew I wanted to experience the variety of cultures at St. Lawrence.  I found that the kids on that hill weren’t all that different from me.  They were teenage guys, just like me, and despite what all of my friends teased me about, the kids that went to this school were just as normal as anyone else.

At St. Lawrence, however, normal class segregation is turned into class integration.  At SLS, every freshman is assigned a senior at the beginning of the school year.  The upperclassmen are unbelievable signs of maturity and responsibility.  The freshmen look up to them, so it only makes sense for the two classes to get along.  The seniors act like mentors, friends, and companions throughout the school year.  They are there to talk to you, hang out with you, or do whatever.  Instantly, when you come here, you have friends.

The culture is amazing.  I’ve made friends with guys from India, Saudi Arabia, the Philippines, Chicago, New Orleans, Vietnam, Laos, Japan, Korea, Wisconsin, South Africa, Indiana, Ghana, Kenya, and South Carolina.  I’ve probably missed some places, but I don’t know if any kid here can name off all of the countries that his friends are from.  That’s a good problem to have.  With so many people from so many different cultures, you are prone to develop an open mind.  You will come into contact with people who don’t think exactly like you, who don’t hold the same customs as you, and who don’t talk like you. Diversity is inescapable.

Oh yea, and there aren’t any girls here.”

“What, no girls?!?  What do you mean, no girls?”

“No girls?!?  How do you live without girls?”

“I don’t.”

Just kidding.  I wasn’t kidding about there being no girls here.  Minus the lunch ladies, the teachers, and Sr. Mildred, I am pretty sure that no girls go to this school.  I was kidding about that last line though.  You’d be surprised how much of a non-issue the no-girls thing is.  I mean, sure, it’s tough and school is a lot different without girls, but you get over it.  The best part, however, comes later when you come home.

When something is taken away from you for a while and then given back to you, there is a new and full appreciation for that thing.  This mentality goes for family, friends, and yes, even girls.  You will find yourself treating these things with so much more respect and dignity than you previously did.  (And for anyone who’s wondering, girls love to be treated with respect and dignity.)

To be completely honest, I never bought into that “God’s calling” stuff.  Before I came to St. Lawrence, I pictured God as this old chess player somewhere in the sky, using humans as pawns.  With that image in mind, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that God actually cared about his “pawns,” and trying to picture him calling each and every one of his game pieces was even harder.  Still, I wondered, “Why does God want me to do this?” 

Imagining Your Future

At St. Lawrence, you are encouraged to decide why you are there.  Whether directly or indirectly, the faculty makes it clear that they want the students to find out why they are going to a boarding school in the middle of nowhere.  This is a Socratic journey that all who attend St. Lawrence must undergo to find any real meaning in what takes place there.  Initially, I figured that if God was calling me to come here,  he probably wanted me to get a good education so I could become rich someday and donate a bunch of money to some religious charity.

As you can imagine, this was a pretty mediocre explanation for the Will of God, and I saw through it in a second. 

I am constantly learning new lessons at St. Lawrence.  I have learned that society’s fads and idiosyncrasies are often temporal and immoral.  

On my vacations, I come home and see some of the paths that some of my friends have chosen, and for me, that only reiterates the statement, “What is right is not always popular, and what is popular is not always right.”

• I have learned that trusting God is one of the smartest decisions any young person can make, because putting our lives in the hands of society can skew our vision immensely.
• I have learned that building one’s faith is a process, not an event.

More importantly,

• I have learned the importance of questioning one’s faith because, if your faith is based on truth, then questioning it will only lead to a stronger conviction in the truth.  And Jesus Christ was all about truth.

My first day of school was a blur, but I remember laying in my bed that night thinking to myself, “Well, I hope God’s happy.”  That five-word thought was dripping with sarcasm, and inside I realized that for the first time in my life, I had accepted a challenge that I couldn’t back out of. 

For the first time in my life, I had people counting on me, praying for me, and watching me.  I felt that I owed something to those at home who supported my decision to leave my hometown at an age when most choose to defy authority, while conforming to their peers.  I started to feel the effects of responsibility on a kid my age and I was scared to death.

Today, I realize that God called me to St. Lawrence for a variety of reasons, mainly to bring Jesus’ message into my daily actions and thus the lives of all who I interact with.  Sure, I am receiving a first-class education at this school, but I don’t believe that that is the only reason for my being there.  I believe that St. Lawrence is a medium for people to discover who they are and what they stand for.  It is a means to help young men find God’s place in their lives, even if they have absolutely no intention of joining the priesthood.  It helps people assert their place in God’s plan for humanity.  Gradually, students begin to realize the message of Jesus that all to often gets forgotten in the chaos of teenage life – Selfless love is best shown through your actions.  If there is one concept that is stressed at St. Lawrence, it is that of taking the Gospel message into our everyday actions.  We are encouraged to move beyond talking the talk; we are encouraged to walk the walk.

You have a choice!

Contrary to popular belief, everyone who goes here doesn’t become a priest.  On my weekend visit, Fr. Dennis, the rector, said, “Do we make you become a priest?  No.  Do we make you think about God in your future vocation?  Yes.”  That sums up an attitude of the faculty.  They want the students to extend Jesus’ message beyond that building we call a chapel.  It is encouraged to take the Gospel message into your actions.  Jesus was all about action.  If you can’t walk the walk, then talking the talk is useless.
I am convinced that God is calling me to continue my life at St. Lawrence because He wants me to open my eyes to the Universal Church.  With the vast array of cultures at St. Lawrence, it is obvious to me that Catholicism is practiced in a variety of cultures all over the globe.  Keeping that in mind reiterates the all-embracing nature of the Catholic Church.  In a way, St. Lawrence Seminary represents that mark of the Church.

Chiefly, this experience has influenced my actions.  I am not blind to the diversity of cultures, beliefs, and lifestyles that people live with each and every day.  I am more sensitive to how my words and actions might affect other people.  A new caring and need for understanding has been instilled into my mannerisms.  In the same token, I am conscious of my own faults and failures, and look to God now more than ever.

In a world of clichés and conformity, St. Lawrence guys stand out.  In short, they don’t act like most high school guys.  Perhaps that is what draws the large groups of females to the St. Lawrence crowd at social events throughout the year. 

Granted, if you think that your number of female friends will increase by coming to St. Lawrence you maybe misunderstanding me.  St. Lawrence is still an all-boys school. 

However, St. Lawrence guys are taught to treat women in a way that is totally non-mainstream.  Hold on to your hats.  St. Lawrence guys are taught to treat women with a disposition of respect.  My girlfriends from my hometown have met some of my friends from St. Lawrence, and they have commented on the integrity and appreciation with which they were upheld.  Society might not promote an attitude of respect for one another, but St. Lawrence Seminary does. 

You can make one of two decisions after reading this.  One, you can forget about it all and remain comfortable with your current situation.  You can remain unwilling to go beyond what you know as your “comfort zone.”  No one is forcing you to try something new.  In the second decision, however, lies a world of possibilities. 

You could give this school a try.  You could come here on a weekend visit and experience it first hand.  I can only write so much on this paper, but what I am experiencing right now, and what you could experience just by giving the school a chance, is amazing.

I recommend that you choose the latter of the two decisions.  This school will change your life.  I know it’s changed mine.