Beaver Country Day School - Senior Yearbook (Brookline, MA)

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FAREWELL It is difficult to express in a few words the love and respect we feel for Beaver. Beaver is more than just a building to us; here in an atmosphere of warmth and friendliness we have laughed and learned together. In informal classes, clubs, and committee meetings we have known our teachers as individuals and have felt their genuine interest in us. Throughout the year they have been sympathetic to our problems and have shared our successes. At Beaver we have had the opportunity of developing our extra-curricular as well as our academic interests. We have learned, through the achievements of the various clubs and committees, to appreciate each other's talents in areas other than scholastic. Our feeling toward Beaver will remain with us always and will be intensified by memories of our varied experiences here. Cheering at the All-Star games ... laboring over a drawing in the studio . .. receiving a birthday cupcake at class meeting . . . rehearsing for the Christmas Concert—all the ups and downs of life at school. In our years at Beaver we have been exposed to ideals and principles of the highest caliber, which in future life it is our responsibility to uphold. BARBIE RAY Senior Class President

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THE SENIOR YEAR Mother, 1 absolutely refuse to go to school! But being the responsible seniors that we arc (actually because we want to assert our senior superiority) once again we filed noisily down the cold, dark, stairway into Bradley Hall to be welcomed for the last time to Beaver. Once again the same refrain: Afr. Hodgman: I know you're ail happy to be back. Us: (laugh) Afr. Hodgman: I bet there arc fifty girls right in there (gestures to audience) who wish they were home in bed . . . (pause for effect) ... I do too. Us: (laugh) Afr. Hodgman: Now, about my trip . .. Us: (groan) School was fun, at least before it started. At Joan Tweedy's tea we met our three new members.Toko Kojimo, Pat Morss and Marty Wheatland. Everybody looked tanned and sophisticated—what a change! However, the stairwell was just as dingy as ever, and we discovered that all the rumors that we had heard from last year's seniors were true. Work was the order of the day—perish the thought. By the end of the first week we were wistfully humming Pomp and Circumstance”. In the depths of our despair, our teachers. Bicycling Bill, Warm-Hearted Werner, Trusting Theresa and Jolly Janet lent a helping hand with a grin and a pile of homework, but with a grin. With a grin (faintly malicious) we handed back Santa Claus spreading Christmas the homework thinking of the fun they'd have correcting it. chccr The lounge was alive with the cry for senior privileges. Mandy O'Neil: What's wrong with smoking anyway? It's not immoral. MA Ziegler: I think the seniors ought to be served coflfce instead of milk and crackers at recess, I really do. The whole thing is ridiculous. L'Allie Pratt: If you had to cat breakfast with a screaming mob like I do, you'd want vodka. Sherry Atkinson: I think we should give up classes and devote the day to honor study halls. We grumbled to deaf cars. The Battle of the Beanie was on! Skimmers? Tyrolean hats? Panamas with madras streamers? . . . C'mon fellers, we haven't got the money.” Poor Judi Sawyer! How bout Eton caps. They're original—haven’t had them for at least a year.” . . . Great! Pink and blue? Red and white? Gray with madras streamers? . . . “Cmon fellers. How about blue and brown. They haven't been used for a year either. Beat day was another black episode in our somewhat checkered careers. Beat Bancroft let down her hair and Gail Binney was way out—we mean like swingsvillc. Our new-found superiority was dealt a blow at the Alumnae luncheon when exalted old grads” returned to these hallowed halls and ivied walls. However, our confidence soared when Mr. Hodgman informed us that we were old enough ... we blushed and lit up. Although Mrs. Jarratt didn't think we would pull through for the Christmas Concert, we finally learned our music. The program was greatly enhanced by Silent Night” sung in several foreign languages, including Mr. Rija's Urdu, and Tokyo's Japanese. At the after-party at Eve's we gorged ourselves on punch and pizza and sang songs of a slightly different nature. Posed on the piano, hair draped in her eye, Susie Gardiner sang huskily, in true night club fashion It was Just one of Those Things and Sue Tucker confided to us that She was only a Faydeed Rose . To prove that they weren't totally talentless, many seniors had a chance to shine in the Drama Club production of Antigone. We had a chance to sec Pat Morss act the humorous part of the messenger, providing comic relief to an otherwise dramatic and serious play. The first day of school had been bad enough when we were informed that we would have to write two long papers before Christmas (the World Book wasn't sufficient for reference anymore). College Boards loomed nearer and nearer and, when exam time rolled around, life degenerated into a soggy morass. Mary, Ellen, Corny and Sue Lock-wood held tense conversations about the life cycle of chlamydomonas which inevitably Mrs. Pope opening her Beanie ended in I wish everybody would stop discussing exams . . . it's bad enough having to take them.” We had begun to realize the truth in the statement, The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. Never let it be said that Beaver doesn't champion progressive education. Bermuda shorts day was a booming success. True to form we all complained when Betsy Palmer told us that we couldn't wear short-shorts and bikinis, but it was probably just as well since we kept putting off those diets. Well girls, said Debbie after the day was over, It's different anyway!” Wightman, in the midst of one of her famous jokes chortled, Gee, I wish it was like this every day. Once in a blue moon there were vacations which did much to lessen our agony. Let's go back, go back, go back to the slopes, Cried Karen and Marty with heightening hopes. Back to the snow, the slush and the ice. To ski without falling would really be nice. Meanwhile back at Pam’s, the literary committee agonized, despaired, got writer's cramp and put off deadlines. Karen O'Keeffe had retired to the darkroom to develop endless films, and Meredith muttered unconventional phrases over a drawing. Class meetings were scenes of endless confusion. After Barbie had rung the bell for fifteen minutes to call the class to order. Cherry usually shuffled around to get candle, matches, cupcake and person assembled at the right time. However, There’s many a slip twixt cup (cake) and lip (stick). Yet for better or for worse it is over. It is sad to contemplate that our years at Beaver have passed, but we can find happiness in the knowledge that we as a class have been through this school together. Now, as we look at the fourth graders, we feel a wistful envy that they still have their lives at Beaver to look forward to. The literary committee getting writer's cramp

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