2,143 entries for Witness Testimony

On the other hand, although physical punishment from the nuns was not as severe, she found what she called the psychological abuse more damaging: I wish sometimes they would have beaten the living daylights out of me, it would have been easier, but the psychological abuse, it stays forever and ever and ever.

Sr McQuaid reiterated the point at the Phase I hearing: I suppose knowing human nature and knowing the length of the period of time and the number of children I think it would be unrealistic to say that there weren’t times when a child could have been treated harshly.

The Congregation stated that there was an emphasis on occupation and regimentation as a means of management and control of the children, ‘particularly in the 1940s and 1950s when the numbers of children were large’. It accepted that the impact on the children would have been restrictive and frustrating, but said that the atmosphere became more relaxed when numbers decreased in the period 1960 to 1983. It is interesting to note, nevertheless, that the staff-child ratio in the period 1940 to 1983 was 1:9, which was much better than the norm for the time: There were usually three Sisters and employed staff and that wasn’t counting the staff who came in, Sisters who came in in the morning and the evening, so it was amazing that it was that. Sisters of Mercy Records: Annual Reports 1934–1958

Under the heading ‘conduct of pupils’, details of the punishment of pupils was described in general terms. There was rarely mention of physical punishment: the most usual punishment was deprivation of certain activities or treats, such as an after-dinner sweet or the weekly walk, depending on the seriousness of the misdemeanour.

The punishment book covered the period from 1888 to 1950. At the opening public hearing (Phase I), Sr McQuaid said that the punishment book was still in existence but that it had not been filled in after 1950. She explained: Yes, we did have the book, which we gave to the Commission, but it was blank. And I must say I would have had the question that is probably in your mind, why it was blank. I don’t have an answer, except that I am conscious that in the couple of other institutions that I am aware of that had Punishment Books theirs seem to have ended in the 1950s as well.

The book in many cases recorded that no punishment was imposed and, where punishment was decided upon, the forms of reprimand included being: kept from Sunday walk, deprived of Sunday outing, deprived of Pictures Matinee, Placed at the Junior Table in Dining Hall, deprived of day at the Sea.

Emmett,4 who was in St Joseph’s as a boy from the early 1970s, described a frightening ordeal to which he was subjected in a very cruel punishment, when he was put into a small cupboard known as ‘the black hole’: The black hole is an area which is situated in the basement of the convent, right beside the kitchen area. It is about three, maybe four by four square, and in height also. It is totally black. One was thrown into there kicking and screaming, not wanting to go there, terrified and wanting to get out because it is not a nice thing to go into and just being left there all night. Myself and my brother were put in there. Why I can’t recall. I was terrified being put in there, kicking and screaming, wanting to be let out ... whatever I have done wrong sorry, just let me out, let me out. My brother also tried to calm me down but I almost turned my anger out onto him ... all I knew was that this is totally wrong and bad to be done and there is nothing one could do about it. One kicked at the door to be let out and only to be told that if you keep kicking on the door you are going to stay in there much longer. It could be five minutes and at the time it was all night. An incident which happened in which I was in there all night on my own, Sr Sienna5 put me in there ... In the early hours, it must have been six around o’clock ... I heard a noise outside and I thought it was Sr Sienna and I said, “please let me out. I will be good, I am sorry for whatever I have done”, only for one of the kitchen staff to open the door and say to me, “what are you doing in there?” Naturally I would be so scared to say it to her, because I wouldn’t want to get her into trouble because God knows what the nuns would do to her. She says, “well okay I’ll let you out but don’t tell the nuns that I have let you out.” I would have clambered out of it and creeped and went straight upstairs to my bed. That would be one of the worst times that it happened. Another time ... I did kick and push the door to get out but Sr Sienna opened the door and gave me a slap, and of course gave (my brother) a slap just as bad ...

The witness complained about being belittled: I always remember (the teacher) would say you are the lowest of the low, you are the worst of the worst. We would often go out to the grass and try to see what the lowest low was, how low could you put your hands ... That was constant. We were never encouraged to think beyond the four walls that we were in.

The staff did not do what the children needed in order to feel secure and loved: it was the psychological abuse that was generally meted out because people didn’t see children as children. We weren’t people, we were kind of fodder and nobody thought enough to give us a hug or love us, or do anything that would have made our lives better. ... I am not saying they were psychologically abusive. What I am saying is that they didn’t know how to look after children, they took on a job they were incapable of doing.

She could forgive the poor food and conditions, but found it hard to forgive the emotional abuse and lack of love shown to the children: But the food was bad. Although I don’t blame the nuns on the food, I don’t blame them in that. In my own reading in history we did have the war and there was the rations, I don’t blame them for that. What I always get annoyed with and I find no forgiveness was the psychological abuse and the lack of love. That would have cost them nothing. A kind word. But there was that constant – we were psychologically abused, like, whatever it was about poor unmarried mothers. I am glad it doesn’t happen today.

Elaine was born in a home for unmarried mothers and transferred at the age of three years to St Joseph’s, where she remained until she reached 16. When her first child was born, she began to search for information about her own mother, a quest which continued on and off for 30 years, with the help of her children. At the end of her search, in the mid-1990s, an elderly nun in St Joseph’s produced from her papers a letter written by the witness’s mother 50 years earlier, and this letter was sent to her along with other papers released on threat of court proceedings. This letter was a source of comfort and reassurance, and eased the sense of abandonment experienced by the witness down through the years. She explained: Well, my belief is that I was transferred to St Joseph’s Orphanage in Dundalk and my mother was never told. The only reason I know she was never told was because later on in 1946 she writes to the convent and she is looking to know where her daughter is. She is wanting to know would they mind if [she] sent me a little something ... I just believe that she should have been told ... It is the only letter. But she is quite upset about it, she‘s heartbroken in that letter. There is one line in it that says “next thing I know the baby is gone”. That jumps out any time I read it.

Sr Sienna who had been Resident Manager had meticulously retained papers relating to the witness, including this letter. Elaine was grateful that the Sister had preserved them but was frustrated when she would not hand them over. Only the threat of court proceedings forced their production. There was no understanding that children needed and were entitled to information about their families. She said: Originally when my first baby was born, and that would have been in the mid 1960s, I had gone back to the orphanage because the orphanage was still open and I was literally told to get on with my life. I wasn’t told who I was or anything like that. I did want to know because I had a child then and motherly instincts must have told me I had a mother and she must have had some feelings too.

She greatly treasured the letter which recorded her mother’s concern: ... I was absolutely thrilled to get it. Even though it hurts it is a letter that – I will always treasure it, it is heartbreaking. She couldn’t tell anyone, she was like myself she was alone. I did better than her I ended up with a family I could have. I do treasure the letter it says a lot. It says little but it says an awful lot. As I say, there is one line in it "the next thing I know the baby is gone". She doesn’t know and it is heartbreaking that somebody could take her child and not tell her.

He described his need to form attachments, and he expressed this in a letter he wrote in 1986 to the Resident Manager: I was just thinking to myself, as I have always thought, of that I can never say that I never had a mother and father because I have had that, and that’s you and Fr Burke.8 Just like all mums and dads, you fed me, clothed me, taught me to read and write, brought me on holidays. I will never forget and loads more and I love you both and always will.

He was asked if he stood by those sentiments today and he replied: Yes, I would ... Fr Burke ... I wish he was my dad, because I loved him so much. He’s one in a million ... Sr Sienna as much as there is a lot of good fond memories, and I stand over the letter and those words I have said in it ... there is a lot of good but yet there is bad ... I thought she was so good and the next minute she turned bad, by locking me in the black hole and humiliating me and embarrassing me and hitting me in her office.