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“Where is your accent?” That’s the first question people ask me when I confess that I attended St. Joseph’s Convent, POS. This is usually followed by “You are so not a convent girl eh!” which more often than not brings me great satisfaction. Not that I am ashamed of having attended SJC. I passed my Common Entrance exam with flying colours and passed confidently through the front door of my first choice. No shame in that game. It’s what I found when I got there that makes any association with the Convent Girl stereotype problematic.

What is the Convent Girl Stereotype? The Convent Girl is a cute well groomed Roman Catholic girl who is both snobby and wealthy (or maintains the appearance of someone who is wealthy), has what is known in some circles as a ‘Westmoorings accent’ and most of all keeps herself separate and apart from ‘the masses’. Frighteningly, the Convent Girl does not speak unless she is spoken to, has the best etiquette and manners and simply could not hurt a fly. While she will more than likely become a housewife, the Convent Girl has also been known to enter the traditional professions where she won’t make much of a name for herself because unlike those aggressive Bishops girls, she knows her place.

This stereotype is not unfounded. In my seven (7) years at SJC there were many students and teachers who fit this stereotype to a T. They were quite comfortably the Convent Girl poster children who were pampered and applauded by the school’s administration as if they were the cat’s finest pyjamas. These girls would add an “ah” to every single word they spoke and go up an octave at the end of each sentence. They would do exactly as they were told without question and would usually be rewarded by a Prefect’s badge at the end of their mindless tenure. Afterall, for the school’s administration, forcing everyone to conform to one particular stereotype was the simplest way to exercise control and when faced with an easier way and a more challenging one, who wouldn’t choose the easier way?

Furthermore, the SJC has its foundation in the Roman Catholic faith, which if we are honest is one of the most conservative religions in Trinidad and Tobago. To stay true to its roots the administration had to ensure that it was unacceptable to behave, dress, speak or adorn yourself in a certain manner. Creative outlets that encouraged critical thinking such as sport, drama, dance and journalism were not given much priority. We were taught that academic performance was most important since that was what we were there for. No matter how hard you may have tried to put this aside very few persons have the conviction not to be persuaded by this conservative way of thinking. The end product would inevitably be elitist lady conservatives destined to spend their lives following the straight and brainless narrow.

Some would even say that persons of a certain social grouping were favoured at SJC. They would say that these persons came in on the 20% at Common Entrance or through a ‘bligh’ transfer at form 2, teachers were mortified to tell them what to do and they were allowed to circumvent school policy. I cannot say whether ‘they’ would be right but I remember in particular, that when I graduated the principal didn’t want me to accept my award in a thin strapped LONG dress but allowed a student’s mother from that self same social grouping to accept her daughter’s award in a mini white dress with her ENTIRE panty printing through the back.  

I do not doubt that pandering to particular classmates helped secure some much needed funding for the amenities which we enjoyed equally, such as a fully stocked science lab, an air conditioned audio visual room, a form six study room and a well stocked library. In the end that is surely a lesson in life, because the real world is not much different. Sometimes the rich just get away with stuff. Did witnessing such behaviour influence some of us to adopt the mannerisms of this certain class so that one day we too could get away with stuff? Well it’s possible.

Once you understand the background to the stereotype you should also understand that many of us, including myself, are nothing like this. For the most part my friends and I are down to earth, natural, intelligent women who have taken the world by the horns. We have carried our bottomless inquisitivity to the next level becoming professionals who live our lives in accordance with our own values. When I asked my classmates to weigh in on this topic they were very excited to talk about our Alma Mater and the famous stereotype. Some felt that the administration was not to blame for the stereotype and believed that many students were already sheltered and elitist when they entered the school. Therefore, although SJC did nothing to alter their behaviour, it was not the root cause. One classmate noted that her sister went to Convent and sported blonde dreads for most of her school life without being subject to any pressure. Others were happy to be called Convent girls because for them it was a positive association with over achievers who maintain their femininity. These young women have redefined the stereotype accepting some aspects and rejecting others thereby making it their own.

In the end, no secondary school is perfect. In our young Republic they remain works in progress. Personally, the negative experiences at SJC encouraged my interest in areas of law which focus on socialism and fairness. While at Convent I found my creative voice writing for the Vox and it is this past time which continues to ease my frustration in what is sometimes an unjust world. Most of all, my family and friends continue to lend me incredible support through a journey made more colourful by my SJC past but not determined by it.


I want to be a billionaire so bad, buy all of the things I never had….

I completely love that song. I heard it on the radio a few weeks ago and I’m totally sold. Not only because I love Travis Mc Coy but because I would so not mind running into a billion dollars (USD of course). We all daydream about winning the lotto and striking it big and the song does make us think of what we would do if we one day became billionaires. Would we use the money to ‘heal the world’ or would we spend it all on ourselves. Hmmmm….

For sure I would like to think that I would do as Travis claims in the song and buy a better life for disadvantaged youths, give unappreciated artists an opportunity to make it big and share up the rest for my friends and family. But what if you were given a billion dollars with the proviso that you could only spend it on yourself?

For some people this compilation may take a while but not me. Here it is. My top five picks if I had a billion bucks to spend on me alone.


  1. Buy Denzel Washington. (If every man has a price, a billion dollars should cover him)

     


  2. Move to my own island complete with Mansion, pool, wait staff and entertainment centre. (No criminals, politicians, parents, or annoying people allowed and importantly no cleaning, laundry or nagging)

     


  3. Make sure my kitchen was constantly all you can eat ribs, chicken fingers, bacon cheese burgers, honey bbq wings, burger king fries, haagen daz ice cream (all flavours), cheesecake (all flavours), vodka and coca cola. (I’m rich, who cares if I’m fat).

  4. Buy my own shoe factory and hire top end shoe designers to make me new shoes on a daily, weekly or monthly basis, depending on how I feel from time to time.

     

  5. Buy my very own fully loaded private jet to fly me all over the world to major exotic locations. (First up the Andean mountains and the Serengeti)

 

So it will probably never happen but you can’t deny it’s a fun thought. Dare you to make your own list.

 

Dear Guys,

Ok so World Cup fever 2010 has gripped us and with it comes the music, the packed bars, the extended lunchtimes and breakfast breaks, the team rivalry, the questionable referee decisions and the incessant bragging from supporters who have been lucky enough to see their team succeed. Since the year is 2010 then just as in every other aspect of life on this planet women are both interested and involved. Not only do women now play football from childhood to professional level, but women have become increasingly excited about watching the sport.

I am one of those women. I am not as obsessed as some. I only tuned in on the second round. I don’t live my life to watch a football match. I don’t spend my money betting on games which by their very nature are unpredictable and basically I have a life. But I have enjoyed the World Cup. I like watching the games, involving myself in the idle banter amongst rival supporters and most of all I love the lime. For that you have branded me a bandwagonist. Mostly by you men who seem to think you have the exclusive rights to team support.

Now firstly, let me break it to you dudes. The rules of the sport are NOT that hard to understand. You may think its rocket science but believe you me if we can land on the moon, build skyscrapers and run a country then I think we can grasp the concept of onside/offside, corner, free kick and penalty. Every team sport has offence and defence and well you gotta have someone in the middle. As Mexico and England learnt the hard way, the referee’s decision is always final. And once you get the ball into the net more times than your opponent, guess what? You win. My 5 year old god daughter could grasp that!

As for who won what when? Well, what’s ‘google’ there for? There is simply no need to sit down with that ‘by now ratty’ piece of paper and lecture me about who has been playing like what since round one. Who cares? Point is even if they made it this far and their past performance cannot save them from elimination, as all you German fans learnt on Wednesday and as all you Spanish fans will find out tomorrow.

Furthermore, last time I checked, FIFA, TV Stations, Radio Stations, Sports Bar proprietors, Host Countries, Merchandisers and the football players themselves could not care less whether I am spending my hard earned money dissecting every second of football played or trying to see Cristiano’s abs through his sweat drenched t-shirt. Why? Because my money spent counts just as much as yours.

That said, let me proudly explain who I have been backing and why?

Brazil


My favourite colour is and has always been Yellow

I love watching Robinho spend 30 seconds running circles around his opponent. It’s actually kind of funny.

Watching the team and their supporters celebrate a goal would bring happiness to anyone, unless you have no soul.

Argentina


Who doesn’t love the colourful personality of Maradonna?

Who doesn’t enjoy watching eleven little Rico Suaves running up and down the field in itsy bitsy shorts, their long tresses waving in the wind?

Who doesn’t look good in baby blue?

Portugal


Cristiano Ronaldo (even if he is hotter than you)

Cristiano Ronaldo (even if you think he is gay)

And oh yeah Cristiano Ronaldo (because the man is just damn fine)

All African Teams


Taking a ‘wine’ on the sideline after scoring a goal, now that is something I can relate to. Nuff said!

Tomorrow I support Holland because you Spanish supporters are just being downright annoying!

Does this make me a bonafide bandwagonist? Possibly. But the reality is all human beings under the sun are born free and until you can show me where the law states that you HAVE TO HAVE a particular reason for backing a team, leave me to drive my bandwagon in peace.

To you I say (accompanied by a slap on the bum)
“Go get me some chips tuts the game is on!”

 

Love always

Gabby aka Bandwagonist Extraordinaire

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