Come September of that year, a school had to be chosen for me. Our neighbor's kids went to a Catholic school a few blocks away called Immaculate Heart of Mary. The neighbor, Gloria, convinced my mother to send me to this school. On the first day of school, I sat in Sister Regina Mary's fifth-grade class. Even though I had already completed fifth grade at Saint Joseph's, I was forced to repeat it.
Life has a way of balancing out.
I loved dressing in my charcoal grey paints, crispy white shirt, and blue Immaculate Heart of Mary tie. I loved wearing that school uniform. I felt, for the first time in my life, that I belonged. Life was finally settling down. Since this was not a public school, it was not free.