Broadview High School - Beam Yearbook (Broadview, Saskatchewan Canada)

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Valedictory Graduation—what a host of emotions it evokes; wistfulness, for the days that are gone and can never come again; anticipation, for what life will bring us; happiness, for this is a day that we have long awaited; satisfaction, for we have finished the first stage of our journey in life; hope, for our dreams to be fulfilled. Remember that day twelve years ago? Big-eyed tots we were, bowled over with the wonder of it. Remember the buck teeth and bubble gum stage? We were old hands at school then. We were bored, even a bit cynical, for there seemed still so much farther to go. Oh, well, we’d stick around and endure it, we told ourselves—not to mention the friendly persuader applied to the seat of discipline. Parents urged us, teachers nagged us, and we continued. Besides there was always that interesting thought of what big wheels we’d be when we hit high school. Suddenly we were in grade eight. Girls could flutter their eyelashes, the boys show off. Next year we went to high school! It wasn’t so funny anymore when someone asked you, “What are you going to be when you grow up?” We were growing up, and the thought scared us a little. And then grade nine. Oh boy, we had ’er made! Nine and ten were the growing pain years. We were pulled back to the safe, comfortable realm of childhood, yet yearned for the privileges of adulthood. Then we were in grade eleven, and we made a sudden discovery. Teachers were people, and most of them were nice. Parents weren’t such old kill-joys as we’d formerly thought. With this came the final realization. We were here not just because you said so, we were here to prepare for life. This was it. Grade twelve has been a strange year. We felt surer in an adult world, yet somehow hesitant to try our own capabilities. It was a year of decisions. What will I do with my life? What will I live by? What will I live for? And now the day has come. We must bid good-bye to the joys and sorrows of growing up. Ours was a half-way class. We had two years in the old building, two in the new. Great changes have come. Classes have swelled; new opportunities, social, sporting, and academic, have arisen. Many and sweet are the memories we will carry in our hearts: creaking stairs (you never could sneak in late), ticking clock, buzzers and bells that caused your hair to stand on end, the thrill of playing hard and well, the satisfaction of getting a “tough” algebra question, room reports, quotable quotes, humorous incidents, the host is numberless. It is now, only now, as we look down the misty corridor of the years, that we can truly realize the great debt of gratitude we owe. To you, our parents, our teachers, and our friends, our school board, to you we can only say, thank you for the future you have given us. Now we can face the challenge that life offers. Yes, to us, the young, life offers a tremendous challenge. This is not a happy world we go into, nor an easy one. Perhaps it is the most difficult world youth has ever faced. Materialism, communism, the H-bomb, prejudice, the conformist cult, loss of faith, all these problems face us. Each must cope the best he can, and each will govern his actions by the truth as he interprets it. Truth—What is truth? Wisemen throughout the ages have pondered this question. Is truth the fact that two and two make four? Yes, reason tells us this. Is truth the formula, energy equals mass times the velocity of light squared? Yes, Albert Einstein proved this theory. But is not truth also in the commandment, “Love thy neighbour as thyself?” We are able to see then that truth exists in two forms, concrete and abstract. Concrete truth, that which can be proved by reason, manifests itself in science. Abstract truth, or moral truth, channels itself into philosophy of religion. The next question that comes to our minds is, “What is the connnection between truth and our problems of today?” We are creatures of thinking, willing and feeling. Tremendous technilogical advances have been made by thinking and willing. Feeling for emotionally or, understanding our-

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Editorial The ’60-’61 school year is almost over now, and the second annual “Beam” is completed. The year-book is again being printed by the Grenfell Sun, to whom we must give credit for their helpfulness and fine work. We hope this year’s copy of the year-book will maintain the same high standard of quality that has always been a characteristic of Broadview High School annuals. This year we are very proud to dedicate our yearbook to our principal, Mr. Leibel. Mr. Leibel has always been a strong supporter of the yearbook and willing to help in any way possible. As the! end of the year comes closer, so does the time when our graduates will leave us. Some will be taking further education, others further training, and some will be going to jobs. We wish them the best of luck in their chosen careers. I would like to take this opportunity to thank those on the yearbook staff for their hard work, those who sold sponsorships and ads for us, those who contributed pictures and write-ups, and everyone who helped in any small way to make our yearbook a success. In conclusion, I would like to wish everyone “the best of luck.” —Don Perrie, Editor. Yearbook Staff Back row: Sharon Rink, Jean Keinas, Don Rask, Tom Cook, Fred Link, Don Perrie, Sherri Carnahan, Mr. Shenher. Front row: Penny Schettler, Joan Listrom, Iona Farkas, Greta Boger, Glenda Donison, Marian Fockler. Editor .. Assistant Editor Girls’ Sports ... Boys’ Sports ... Social . Log . Artist . .... Don Perrie Marian Fockler ... Sharon Rink . Tom Cook .. Joan Listrom ... Jean Keinas Sherri Carnahan Typists . Penny Schettler . Glenda Donison . Greta Boger . Iona Farkas Sales Manager . Fred Link Business Manager. Don Rask Staff Advisor . Mr. Shenher

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selves in relation to these advances has lagged far behind. Practical, technical truth has overshadowed moral truth. We create but we cannot understand what we have created. The emotions of the Stone Age rule us, while we think in the terms of the Space Age. For we may send a man to the moon, but his black brother’s child is barred from the school whose purpose it is to teach the use of freedom. The secrets of life itself unfold in a test tube, but man cannot live with his fellow man. We may want a new split-level bungalow, but we are quite content to let o ur brother live in a slum as we do not have to see it. When we build armaments it is to protect ourselves. When our so- called “enemy” arms he is threatening attack. We are still living in the fear that has followed us through the centuries. Prejudice, superstition, selfishness, and ignorance still claim us as their own. “Solum veritatem quaerite.” Seek truth only. A fitting motto for our school, for is this not the chief challenge to education, to make the truth available to all? And to teach men to judge facts wisely? Seek truth only. It has been established that truth possesses two faces, factual and moral. Technical truth has given us the power to survive, but, on the other hand, has given us the power of destroying the whole human race. It has brought us to a chasm it cannot bridge—the H-bomb. Now man must apply what moral truth has always taught, “I am my brother’s keeper,” or surely perish from the earth. But it is also true that moral truth cannot fill the belly of a starving child. Love thy neighbour means little when life is an endless battle against the elements for bread. But it is now possible for every person here to carry on a comfortable physical existence. It is incumbent upon us then to turn to the great task of making one world, one people, whose desires are unified. We have the means. The search for moral truth compels us to reach out the hand of brotherhood to the less fortunate. As one writer expresses it, “At our stage of evolution the struggle for morality and spirituality has replaced the struggle for life.” This is the challenge to the youth of today. We must seek truth—not only the truth that will give us three meals a day and a bed to lie on, but the truth that will make all men brothers in freedom. Herein lies the immortality of our race. —May Edwards.