St Patrick's Marist College

I attended this school from 1975 in year 5 through to 1980 in year 10. It was an all boys school then and the Marist Brothers with teaching positions lived on the school grounds in a small monastery. During that period the school lay at the edge of, arguably, one of the largest public housing estates in Sydney, encompassed in the suburbs of Telopea, Dundas Valley, Ermington and Rydlemare. It led to an interesting mix of students, those from clearly disadvantaged backgrounds and a significant portion from middle class Carlingford, which overlooked “The Valley” with its plush red brick mansions, and also falling within the schools catchment zone. The school also assumed a feeder role to an orphanage in Westmead then known as St Vincent’s Boys Home. A real problem with this institution was a lack of identity. Its misconceived diversity precluded it from standing for anything. It wasn’t strictly a school of hard knocks, due to the Carlingford element, as much as it wasn’t a school of academic or sporting prowess, as those attributes are built on a rich history of solidarity and pride and there was never any traction to be gained there, probably due to the confused ethos. Similarly, any suggested affiliation of the school with any of the arts could be appropriately dismissed as laughable. We were consistently beaten in rugby league and cricket, which of course were like a religion in catholic boys schools back then. Some of the margins were outrageously bad too, with the worst examples exhibiting losses of more than 100 to nil on the football field. It was also of poor academic standing, perhaps even anti-intellectual. I don’t know of anyone who even went to university. The classes of Mathematics, English and Science were ranked from 1 though to 4, with the latter uncharitably being labelled “The Dumb Class”. Somewhat tellingly, the bottom classes were made up entirely of the housing commission boys and the orphans and I hasten to say that this undignified endorsement wasn’t just one assumed by the students. I personally witnessed the head brother providing a guided tour to a new teacher. In his repartee as they swanned along the verandas he nonchalantly motioned towards a lower end Science class and explained with a wry grin that the students therein were the “mistakes” of his establishment. There was racial abuse, with a refugee from war torn Vietnam, who was a resident of the orphanage, being told to “go back to where he came from” because he could not pronounce words properly. And there was physical abuse, strikes to the head at the hand of a teacher, lashings with a cane or section of garden hose or a cricket bat were commonplace. Even the deaf weren’t spared, with the school’s only hearing impaired boy, a casual student, used as the butt of a joke when a teacher farted loudly in his presence and jovially noted the look of disdain on the deaf boy’s face when struck by the foul odour. A chorus of laughter followed the teacher’s heartless remark which I still recall. It was “See, that’s why farts stink, it’s to let the deaf know you farted”. The so called high achievers from the “advanced” classes joined the NSW Police in droves, and I guess that the remainder probably became tradesmen or worked in basic middle management positions in department stores and the like. Definitely no surgeons, barristers, elite sportsmen or for that matter, anyone of note, came out of the place. The school play when I was in year 6 said so much. It was about Noah’s Ark and all of the Carlingford boys were given the prized singing, acting and dancing roles, their middle class parents proudly watching on and clapping, whilst the orphans and socially disadvantaged made up the numbers and played the part of the animals, their faces covered by cheap lion, zebra and giraffe masks. It was a school unfortunately characterised by stark mediocrity and a very unpleasant place to be. I hope it has improved.

They suspend you for having a slightly wrong uniform and you pretty much have to treat the staff like gods

Went to this school under Brother Thomas. While he was a good guy the rest were Cain happy. Very brutal in every way. BAD start too my young life. 1961

St Pat’s is a very mixed bag, with a lot of great staff being bought down by the rampant bullying issues and teachers who clearly don’t care. When I attended, there was a big issue of social exclusion and bullying that often went ignored and was sometimes encouraged by particular members of staff. Students who would disrupt classes and mercilessly torment their classmates were consistently let off the hook and received no punishment while good students were punished for small misdemeanours or sticking up for themselves.

The thing that truly made the school special was the teachers, particularly the humanities teachers and the teachers in administrative roles, who cared deeply about each student in their care and did everything in their power to ensure that the students were happy and understanding the content. Unfortunately, most of those teachers were on temporary contracts and eventually had to leave after only a few years due to not being offered permanent contracts whereas a lot of other teachers who either didn’t care, couldn’t teach, or we’re just plain rude.

I graduated before the new principal came to the school, and the previous principal was pretty good. I’ve heard from current students, including my own younger siblings who still attend, that the new principal has greatly diminished the school environment. Many new obscure, useless, and often restrictive rules have been added and it seems like they care more about the school uniform and measuring skirt lengths than actually teaching or focusing on other issues such as bullying.

My memories about St Pat’s are mixed. It is not a good school yet, but with the brilliant staff and facilities that the school offers it could be great.

The school in 2020 was pretty good but it seems to have gotten worse since the new principle joined, useless rules have been added and it seems as though uniform is their top priority.