This weekend my two older sons are
sitting for the Regis High School entrance exam – the closest thing
to an autumn rite in the annals of Jesuit education in New York City.
I came late to Jesuit education: I’d
never met a Jesuit priest, and hardly knew what one was, until I
applied to Fordham in 1983. That may be why Regis – a
tuition-free Jesuit high school just off Fifth Avenue on the Upper
East Side – has always seemed to me a New York institution that was there from the beginning, like the Metropolitan Museum, Central
Park, and Grand Central Terminal.
Of course, those institutions were not
there from the beginning: they had to be instituted, and then
developed, expanded, maintained, and guided so that (in Lampedusa’s
famous formulation in The Leopard)
they could change in order to stay the same.
Regis’s
story is told in Teach Me to be Generous,
by Anthony Andreassi, an historian who teaches at Regis and is also
the associate pastor at the Brooklyn Oratory; and it’s told in Father
Andreassi’s distinctive voice, as when he observes in a passage about the Regis endowment that “unfortunately, the early 1970s was a
terrible time to get into the stock market …”
To
spend a few hours with the book is to realize how quirky and
un-inevitable the history of even rock-solid institutions like Regis
can be. I wouldn’t have guessed that the school is named not for
some Latin variant of Christ the King but for a Jesuit saint, John
Francis Regis; or that it was founded by the widow of a mayor of New
York, who was its sole and anonymous funder for half a century; or
that she was one of twelve children from a Catholic family in Troy;
or that (anticipating an issue that, when it concerns public schools,
has gone to the courts) she forbade the use of the school building
for non-educational purposes; or that (again anticipating a current
trend) Regis wound down its football program to focus on basketball
as early as 1930; or that the current dress code (coats and ties) was
a relaxing of the original dress code of collars and cassocks; or
that – today – students come to the school daily from
Connecticut, Long Island, Westchester, and New Jersey as well as the
five boroughs, or that there is no daily Mass schedule.
Or
that the head writer of Saturday Night Live,
the brothers who run the Elias Sports Bureau, and the National Book
Award-winning writer Phil Klay went to Regis; or that Stefani Joanne
Angelina Germanotta – Lady Gaga – used to come over from
Marymount to star in the school’s plays; or that the school had
Manhattan’s first “green” roof. These things I learned from the
slide show given at the school’s open house – a striking contrast
to the dreary recitations at some other schools.
But
the most affecting aspect of the book – and of Regis High School,
evidently – is suggested by its title. Teach Me to Be
Generous comes from a prayer of
St. Ignatius of Loyola, and it is echoed in Andreassi’s dedication:
“To my parents, from whom I first learned what it means to be
generous …”
Teach
me to be generous: What more could a student – and the student’s
father – ask of a secondary school than that?