Locker doors, elaborately decorated with photos and posters, hung open during the day. Gym bags sat on top of the lockers–not inside of them. Buttons with football players’ names and faces were fashioned on sweater sleeves and backpack straps. The halls were filled with collared shirts, pleated skirts, cardigans and khakis.

This was my view during my day as a Bishop Carroll student on Friday, Sept. 19.

I attended a schedule similar to one I might attend at Northwest–besides the Religions class, which was taught by a nun. Many classes opened with a prayer and a sign of the cross.

Classes proceeded perhaps with less profanity, or perhaps with more veneration for their teachers. Little socializing went on–until lunchtime of course, where meals were served on dishes with silverware (no sporks or paper trays). Students are not allowed to leave.

During their five minute passing periods, students smiled and greeted one another, but rarely stopped walking on their way to class. I didn’t see a single couple holding hands or kissing. Hardly any students had their phones out, even during lunch.

I had the chance to attend their Eucharist Music Festival at the conclusion of the school day. In the gym, most of the students in the school knelt down before a table, topped with candles, on small pieces of carpet. For around an hour, they worshipped together in song and prayer.

Most of my classmates seemed to have no real break from their learning experience, and no significant desire to have one. They appeared to be so deeply engaged in their schoolwork.

Student relationships, both with each other and with teachers, seemed to be less developed than those at Northwest. Their population is less diverse. There does, however, seem to be such a strong sense of unity amongst Bishop Carroll students. The common goals at school, the prayers, rituals–all of it creates a bond that only they can share.

Taylor Allen’s story

Two stories from the Bishop Carroll perspective