What My Catholic School Experiences Taught Me About Taoism

A Look In Retrospect

St Charles Preparatory School, Columbus, Ohio

As a studious Black kid growing up in Columbus, Ohio, my K-12 journey from the playground and school halls of St. Gabriel Catholic school  to the imposing stone facades of St. Charles' Preparatory School reflects how life can follow a natural course of bewildering twists.

Grade school at the predominantly black “St. Gabriel Catholic School” was a blur of starched white shirts and the intoxicating early romances of youth, punctuated by the relentless pursuit of marbles and the rhythmic dance of double-dutch ropes on the school playground. 

I was perceived as the quintessential goody two-shoes, a label that miraculously saved me from detention when I, in a moment of youthful passion and perhaps ill-considered chivalry, defended my honor—and that of Tina Hairston, the object of my affection—against Kenny Jones with a strategically swung book-laden bag.

Taoist philosophy teaches that true strength is achieved through softness and yielding. Yet there I was, hardening like the packed earth of the playground, convinced that my path to harmony involved a show of might. The universe chuckled, no doubt, as I navigated these early skirmishes, laying foundational stones on my journey.

My mother then transferred me to St Catherine’s grade school located in a suburb of Columbus called Bexley. It was a starkly different environment where the colors and sounds of my world changed. My first ally in this new realm was Michael B, a beacon of welcome amidst a sea of unfamiliar vanilla faces. Here, the Taoist concept of wu wei, or effortless action, manifested in our friendship—it was natural, easy, as if preordained by the cosmos itself.

At Bexley, I recall participating in a Civil War play that Michael had produced. When the scripts were passed out I naively chose to represent the Confederacy, oblivious to the nuanced historical contexts that would later color my understanding of such choices. It was a simple act, yet it spoke to the journey of self-discovery and the sometimes uncomfortable reconciliations between past actions and present understanding. 

This reflects how the Taoist journey is one of continuous flow and adjustment, much like navigating the shifting allegiances of history.

Playing basketball under Coach Knaur was another lesson in observing the natural order. Despite having what I thought were exquisite shooting and rebounding skills, I often sat warming the bench, a stark lesson in patience and acceptance. In Taoism, we learn that everything has its time, and perhaps lack of time on the court was meant to teach me about waiting, watching, and finding my moment.

Then came the note-passing incident among my school mates in class with the letters "KKK” etched across a sheet of folded up paper. This was one of my first stark encounters with ignorance and its shadows. It was a jarring reminder that not all flows smoothly in the river of life—there are eddies and undercurrents of malice that must be navigated with both wisdom and courage.

High school at St. Charles was a fortress of tradition and expectation, a place where the mundane rubbed shoulders with the profound. Latin phrases and U.S. history mingled with the realities of Ebony and Jet magazines, introducing us to a broader spectrum of Black history. 

Here, I was taught hypothetical moral dilemmas by a priest, a strange blend of the sacred and the all-too-human that typified my education. Each lesson, each peculiar encounter, was a stone on my Taoist path, teaching me to find balance and moral orientation in a world that often presents more questions than answers.

In reflecting on these formative years through the Taoist lens, it became evident to me that every moment was a step on my path of becoming. In Taoism, we are taught that life itself is the journey and that each experience, each challenge, is a part of the natural unfolding of our being.

From this philosophical viewpoint, a few lessons have crystallized for me in retrospect:

Flow with Change: As with the case of transitioning from St. Gabriel to Bexley, embracing change and flowing with it rather than resisting, ensures harmony with the Tao.

Embrace the Natural Self: In each phase of life, from defending my young love interest Tina to forming unexpected friendships, life is a journey that helps us discover and assert one’s natural self, a core Taoist pursuit.

Learn from the Low Points: The times spent on the bench in grade school basketball, the misunderstood actions — each low point proved rich with lessons about patience, resilience, and the subtle strength of yielding.

Looking back, my orientation to the world has been profoundly shaped by these early adventures, a mosaic of moments that teach, test, and ultimately, have guided me along the Tao, the mysterious, beautiful way of the universe. 

As the taoist sage Lao Tzu might suggest, we do not need to carve our path forcefully through the world; instead, we need only learn to listen, observe, and gently nudge our rudder as we flow along the river of life.

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