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#ShesAHound - My Notre Dame story began September 1967

Arlene Kennedy
My Notre Dame story began in September 1967, significantly, Canada’s Centennial year and is ongoing…..
The reasons for people coming to Notre Dame are as many as the students themselves.  Mine was that my best friends had already gone to a boarding school the year prior and I couldn’t bear the thought of doing my final two years of high school without them - nor could I bear the thought of joining them at an all-girls boarding school run solely by Nuns. So, it was through someone who knew someone that had gone there that I learned of Notre Dame. With its’ Co-Ed life and Lay staff, it was the perfect compromise between me and my Mom who was heartbroken that I, her youngest, wanted to leave her nest before need be. Reluctantly she acquiesced and off to Notre Dame I went!  
From day one to my graduation two years later, Notre Dame was everything my curious, precocious 15-year-old self was looking for. It brought me friends from all across Canada, the US and Hong Kong which in 1967 was huge! I felt so worldly! Incredibly, the friendships that developed almost overnight, would be lifelong.   The governance of the Sisters of Charity of St. Louis, that at times presented challenges to blossoming romances among other things, would, through our assigned chores, teach me responsibility, accountability and respect.  Even cleaning stairs with a nail brush was a lesson learned! I relished the feeling of quasi-independence - being able to make decisions within the safety net of ND gave me the confidence to make bigger ones and taught me that even wrong decisions are a part of life.  But hands-down the most memorable part of Notre Dame was being taught by, inspired by and have my first ever drink of Scotch with one of the greatest, profound Canadian men and teachers, Pere Athol Murray. 
In many ways Pere’s values, beautifully articulated in The Notre Dame Man and Woman, aligned with my parents and after two years under his tutelage they were permanently etched into the person I became. It was his take on life, his Ecumenism, individualism, transcendentalism and his ability to smoke almost a whole cigarette without the ash falling off while dangling on his lip as he spoke, that had me transfixed when he taught us Christian Ethics.  It was this rough around the edges man who served with utmost finesse, the” best in Scotch” out of a glass that may have housed his dentures only minutes earlier; who marched to the beat of his own drum, and had an undying love for Canada, that shaped me into a confident, fearless, proud Canadian Woman.
And now 50 plus years later, I am reliving those two remarkable years of my teenage life vicariously through my Granddaughter, Ryan. As much as things change, they remain the same - the first dance, Football games and hanging out at the rink, hating the food, food parcels, Dorm life, Dorm parties, short-lived crushes and lifelong, worldwide friendships – it’s Notre Dame life, full circle. 
In  February 2020,  while I sat in the car waiting for my daughter to say goodbye to Ryan, and snow fell softly, I watched the silhouettes of kids running, walking, skidding from Dorm to rink to Dorm and back to the rink again- this little community of young women and men brought together from around the world to a school with strong and humble roots,  in the middle of nowhere. Young Women in the making who will be grateful to their parents for allowing them to spread their wings in the realm of  Notre Dame –  women, who without a doubt will tear up every time they sing the Notre Dame Prayer and Victory March -  like I still do 50 plus years later.

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