Autobiography 7: Kieran's College!
Dírbheathaisnéis 7
When I was in the sixth class in primary school, there was no question that I would attend Coláiste Chiaráin, the school where my father taught. I first had to take an entrance exam, which hundreds of other students were also taking. I was shocked when I found out that I got first place in the same exam. I was even more surprised to learn that I received a scholarship thanks to my results. I was offered a place as a residential student for the next five years, free of charge. What would I do?
Decision Time!
My parents were delighted and said that they would leave the decision regarding the scholarship to me. We discussed the pros and cons honestly together. I didn't have to take the offer, because I didn't live far from the school. Not only that, but I would have a lift door to door every day. Without a doubt, it would have been more comfortable and easier for me to stay at home, instead of the leap in the dark that would involve a new life as a residential student. There were strong arguments for staying at home. Was there any reason to enter college as a boarding student? I thought at the time that there were a few reasons. First of all, 'don't look a gift horse i the mouth'! I won this valuable prize, so why not take it? Secondly, I was an adventurer, and I was never one to turn down a challenge. In any case, if the whole thing fell apart me, wouldn’t I be able to return home again. I remembered my time away from home in the Gaeltacht, and I loved the independence it gave me while I was getting the education of a lifetime. It was not difficult for me to accept the offer. Although my parents were happy for me, they were probably also sad for themselves. After all, their first son was already growing up so fast, and now he would be leaving home on top of that. Perhaps my situation reminded my father of his own situation, when he himself was about fifteen years old and leaving home to attend the seminary school. I think he was of two minds about the time he spent in church-run institutions. Anyway, he accepted my decision without saying a negative word about it. My mother held her tongue too, I guess. Without a doubt, she was conflicted about it. On the one hand, she was sad that she would lose her son from home. But on the other hand, she was very proud of me, and she only wanted the best for me.
New School - New Identity
At the end of the summer, when the school holidays were coming to a close and all the preparation complete, I was very eager to start my new adventures. We collected my bits and pieces and drove to the College to register me as a boarding student. The College staff members welcomed us all and then our parents left. Roll was called and then we, the new residential students, were assigned beds. At first, I was not in a dormitory in the College itself, but outside in Desart Hall, on Lower New Street. But after a few days, I was put into a small dormitory at the College. There were only ten beds in St. Columba's dormitory, compared to a hundred beds or so in the other dormitories in the College. I had a bed and a small locker with a basin of water on top. There was an internal screen between the beds which gave us the least amount of privacy. It was cold in that dorm too, but my bed was just a sheet and thin blankets that were almost worn out. I would have a hard enough life here, in the absence of the physical comfort I had available at home. But things like that didn't bother me, and I continued regardless.
The Custom of Nicknames
It was a completely different life for us in boarding school, as we learned social skills so that we would be able to live in the new environment of the school. Everyone in the school, both teachers and students, was given a nickname, and often the same names were not too flattering. For example there was one student who had an intolerance to gluten. He could not eat white bread and had special brown bread. He was christened 'Brown Bread'. Anyone with the surname 'Ó Murchú' was called 'Spud'. In my case, when it was discovered that my father was a teacher at the school, and nicknamed Peadar, I was given the same nickname. I was quite happy with that, and with the new name and the new people and the new environment in the College, I lost one identity and took on a new identity. In that way, the new life of the school began for me.
English 
Gaeilge