Discovering there is a `Notre Dame family'
Letter to the Editor
There are a lot of reasons to complain about Notre Dame. We can start with the reigning queen of complaints, parietals, and throw in single sex dorms, lack of diversity, ultra conservatism, gender relations in general, an administration that treats us like children, poor dining hall food and a lack luster football season.
Complaints like these appear in the opinions section of the Observer on a daily basis. They are things that I gripe about, too. Things that need to be changed. Things that may change in time. But, I complain less these days.
Lately, I love Notre Dame. I always liked the school, from when I got here freshman year — the beautiful campus, nice people, fun, if not always successful, football season. But now I can say, with all honesty, that I love it.
Along with the torturous forced interaction of freshman orientation, new students are bombarded with somewhat cheesy talk about the "Notre Dame family" and the "spirit of Notre Dame." To me, (I am, perhaps, a bit on the cynical side), this talk seemed rather hollow. That's nice that the administration wants us to feel welcome, I thought, but it's just a school. I had not yet been enveloped in the "spirit", as it was called. I would not be for almost two years, until three weeks ago, when we learned that my good friend Conor Murphy (a Zahm Hall resident) has leukemia.
Although my realization of the Notre Dame family is just one of many latent effects of this horrible news, it is an important and a comforting one. At home in Cleveland over spring break, I was able to visit Conor in the hospital and witness first hand the strength he draws from his connection to Notre Dame.
Letters and cards, many of them from people somehow connected with Notre Dame, brighten the walls of Conor's room. There are the obvious ones from those who are close to Conor: roommates, friends, his rector. But the ones that make me smile the most are from people that hardly know him: a former TA, Coach Doherty, among many, many others. There is even one from the mother of another sophomore. She writes that her daughter (who, herself, barely knows Conor) called to tell her about the terrible news. She sent along an inspirational tape that helped her when she fought her own battle with cancer.
Father Scully talks to Conor on the phone on a regular basis, has been to visit him and will go again. During his last visit, he relayed information from the doctor that Notre Dame arranged to give a second opinion for Conor's situation. Father Jim Lies, rector of Zahm Hall, has also made the trip to Cleveland several times. He says mass for Conor's family in his hospital room. Other priests whom Conor barely knows, call and give him advice and spiritual guidance. Even the student body, with attendance at the 24-hour grotto vigil held before break, messages in journals and banners and prayers, give Conor extra strength and support.
A friend of mine and Conor's, who attends the University of Virginia, remarked over break that, at times, she regrets not attending a Catholic school. She said, through all of this, she realized that Notre Dame has such community, such a bond of faith and common purpose. Realistically, she is probably much happier at UVa than she would be as a Notre Dame student. There are other aspects to a school, other reasons to attend, some benefits from diversity rather than the homogeneity here at Notre Dame. But, this community, this "spirit", has become an aspect that I value highly. An aspect from which I, too, can draw strength in hard times.
I realize that some people see my thoughts as hollow or cheesy. Once I mentioned the Notre Dame family, many people probably zoned out, moved onto the horoscopes or the goofy cartoons that poke fun at our school. But, coming from a borderline cynic, someone who used to roll her eyes at phrases like "spirit of Notre Dame", there is a sense of community and family at our school that is hard to find elsewhere. I hope you don't have to go through hard times to appreciate it. Maybe you will never find it. But know it's out there … if you ever need it.
Katie Sanders
Sophomore, Farley Hall
March 29, 2000
All Viewpoint Stories for Friday, March 31, 2000
