“Ramona Convent? Did you go to a school for nuns?”
For students (and graduates) of Ramona Convent, this is a normal occurrence. Religious schools are already quite unusual, and so are single-sex schools. But an all-girls, Catholic high school that has the word “convent” in its name? That’s like asking for trouble.
Still, attending Ramona Convent wasn’t so much of a decision as it was fate. I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but going to an all-girls school gave me the opportunity to find comfort in an environment free from pressure to conform to traditional gender roles. It’s not like there were any boys at the school who were expected to take the role of ASB leaders, mechanics on the robotics team, or delegates at Harvard Model Congress—women were free to take all of those positions, instead.
In doing so, Ramona Convent taught us that we could truly accomplish anything we set our minds to. We learned how to fail with grace, and how to succeed with pride. Ramona gave 300 unheard girls, myself included, their voices and taught us how to fight for what we want. I’m sure they regretted doing that at times, like when we argued against school rules that we thought were unfair (and we did that—a lot). But we learned that our opinions mattered and that we, as individuals, mattered, and Ramona made an entire group of young teenage girls feel important.
More than anything, though, I left Ramona with a deep understanding of the strength of women. The sisterhood I experienced at Ramona Convent was something I doubt I will ever experience again. Was there fighting? Sure. Was there gossiping? Of course. But more than anything, there was an overwhelming sense of solidarity. We all wanted to see each other succeed in school and in life, and we were all genuinely proud of each other’s accomplishments. It was truly heartwarming to see that we cared about each other so much we forgot that we live in a world where women are pitted against each other in a competition none of us agreed to.
We weren’t that different from other high schools. We still scrambled to get our homework done in the morning before class, and we still had to run laps in gym class (although some of us got around that). But we wore our uniforms like badges of honor, and we sang our alma mater like it was the national anthem. And when we all stood together on graduation day, wearing matching white dresses and holding bouquets of roses, we all felt the same bittersweet feeling of leaving behind a school that had given us so much more than we could ever thank it for.
It wasn’t until I started going to college that I realized just how unusual graduating from a small, Catholic, all-girls school is. I’ve experienced quite a bit of teasing about it—all in good nature, of course. But I don’t mind the jokes about being a Ramona Convent graduate. It comes with the territory, and I am proud that I came from a school that empowered me in a way real life never could. Although I’m glad to be attending an amazing university in an amazing city, I will forever be grateful for the four years that I shared with 67 other wonderful women and fellow graduates. And someday, I hope to make as much of a difference in the world as Ramona Convent has made in me.
