So as I’ve mentioned before, I’m currently in Dublin, Ireland, visiting my family. My sister is attending a Catholic school (as you do in Ireland) and she’s being fast-tracked through the process of becoming as holy as possible.
She asked me to be her sponsor for her confirmation (a ceremony for being “confirmed in the Catholic church”, it’s not as cult-like as it sounds) and I said, “Does that mean I have to give you money or something?” No one exactly explained what my role was other than show up for the ceremony but I didn’t have to write a check so I agreed.
As part of the ceremony being run by her school, they decided to take the opportunity to scare children away from drugs and alcohol. The whole family was invited down to the church to light a candle and listen to kids chant about not touching the good stuff until they’re at least 18.
We, of course, arrive about 20 minutes late in the middle of the sponsor’s oath. A decent amount of the crowd was standing but we didn’t understand whether we were to sit or stand so we bobbed up and down for about a minute in confusion with one hand up like we were boy scouts. I almost put my hand over my heart for the pledge of allegiance.
Once we settled into our seats a priest got up to tell us all a story.
“Now children, have you heard about American Indians? I mean Native Indians, I mean Native American Indians…”
It went on for a while until he settled on the most politically correct term he could muster.
“Well, do you know the happiest place in the world? I’ll give you a hint, it’s in Florida.”
Kids squirmed with excitement, “Disney World!” they said in unison.
“Exactly, well that beautiful theme park is sitting on what used to be the home of thousands of Indian Americans (he still didn’t understand the concept).”
Where was he going with this? Well, he proceeded to tell the story of how Disney basically stepped on the necks of Native Americans and how you can’t assume everything beautiful is without flaw. I think. I think that’s what his metaphor was. I got lost and couldn’t find my way back.
But that was only the first of three Native American metaphors. Apparently, it was a theme for the night.
Then he starts talking about a Native American paddling in a canoe down a river but he’s surrounded with plastic bottles but with one teardrop all the trash disappears. This may have been related to Earth Day but no one questioned him.
The last one he spoke of a Native American boy who climbed a mountain, met a rattlesnake who asked to be carried down the mountain because he was cold. The boy was like, no you’ll bite me and the snake was like, “Nah”. So he carried the snake down the mountain and it bit him. The boy was like, “Ah! You promised!” and the snake was like “Sorry kid, you saw what I was. You knew what you were getting into.”
The snake was a representation of drugs the whole time. Or maybe the boy was on drugs. I forgot the metaphor already.
The priest then listed out a bunch of alcohol brands, like almost all of them. Like, he sounded hella thirsty.
“Yeah, marijuana, speed, cocaine, all beautiful stuff. But not until you’re 18 okay?”
They then all chanted together not to touch this beautiful stuff and lit candles. The wax was dripping all over Abigail but it was in the name of God and meth so it was fine.
“OK, let’s wrap this thing up. If we leave now we can catch the second half of the game.”
Afterward, I needed a drink.