I spent eight years in Catholic grammar school, and I think I only got hit once, and that was by a lay teacher. Our nuns, the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus, weren’t generally a bunch of hitters. They used psychological warfare. I guess life as a Bride of Christ can get pretty boring sometimes, and I just had this vision when I was in school of them sitting up at night figuring out how to make our lives a living hell.
Sometimes it wasn’t so much psychological warfare as just getting a bee in their wimple about something. The nun we had in third grade, for example, was from somewhere in either New York or Pennsylvania, where, apparently, they had a different pronunciation for merry, Mary, and marry. In Chicago, we didn’t waste our time with that, because we could figure out which one it was based on the context. If we were to say "I’ll be merry when I marry Mary" we would know that the first was an adjective, the second a verb, and the third a proper noun.
To Sister J’s way of thinking, that was just wrong with a capital R. The way she spoke, merry was pronounced in a way that sounded like murray, marry sounded like MAH-ree, and I can’t remember how she pronounced Mary, but it wasn’t pronounced like it rhymed with "fairy," which is the way we said all three. So, one convenient afternoon, she decided to waste most of it by trying to teach us the correct (i.e. her) way of pronouncing each. When, after spending most of the afternoon on this folderol, we still said it wrong, she mercifully let it go.