I've never fitted in. Born on the wrong side of Auckland to a hard-working Protestant factory worker and his intensely respectable Catholic wife, I was unaware I might have been considered disadvantaged.
I attribute this to my mother's pride, which cannot always be a sin, and to the priests, nuns and parishioners of Saint Mary's Church and day school. The nuns especially demonstrated daily, by words and actions, what it took to be a good Catholic. Number one was the duty to care for those less fortunate than ourselves. This was reinforced by sad little cardboard money boxes 'for the starving babies in India' in every classroom and regular fundraisers for war-torn areas.
We were also taught to be inclusive and accepting of difference. Each grade had a few kids nominated to act as big brother or sister to new migrant children. Our parish priest invited other denominations to joint services at a time when Catholics and Protestants were killing each other in Ireland.
Most of us came from low-income families, so there was no requirement to pay school fees annually. Uncle Jack collected our half-crowns (25 cents) each week and never questioned if we didn't have enough. Jack wasn't only our handyman and bill collector; he also played Santa at Christmas breakups.
I have a vivid memory of Santa offering me a lolly at the end of my first year at Saint Mary's. I stared up at him, before shrieking 'Liar! You're not Santa; you're Uncle Jack,' and I punched him in the crotch, the highest point I could reach at five years old.
Sister Barbara taught me in my fifth and sixth years; we were her very first students. She had a large multi-grade class, yet she found time to realise I wasn't 'a bit slow' but was actually half-blind, partially deaf and bored witless.
She ensured I was placed close to the front where I could hear, and arranged my first eye examination. To my excruciating embarrassment, I ended up with my mother's discarded Edna Everage-type glasses, at a time when everyone else had mod angular frames.
Sister Barbara also sent away for high school English books just for me and that year this supposedly 'slow' child came first in class. She changed the course of my life. I'm still the only member of my very large family with a tertiary education. My mother reinforced Sister Barbara's gift by getting me a library card