Calvin College - Prism Yearbook (Grand Rapids, MI)

Page 29 text:

My head is a crucible. Inside everything is broken, mixed. The heat separates the silver from the slag. I play with mathematics, weighing, reducing, playing with possibilities. I am in the sciences to know everything there is to know concerning crickets, rats, and this creation that hangs on my bones, I am intrigued by tongues. And I by sounds. By colors. By a poem. Think how the place is part of you. Across Almost a century, think all the people it has been: you are: feel all those souls pump through your veins like blood. The places they have been: you places. You walk the streets they walked. you read the books they read and more. You find yourself a creature of their histories and dreams as much as of your own. Hear each of several thousand say: See here, I have my private dreams and prayers, I have my place and know it, and am comfortable with family, good friends, and still I find' myself caught here, or drawn back here, not as playing with taffy, but caught by the blood. This place and its people are not only some kind of institution, some silver of nationality. See ourselves, each other Onze School, lohn Calvin-College in an American idiom. See apple seeds. Ourselves, each other, and this place, small, sometimes hard and indigestible, still, seeds of promise. This place a prelude to the orchard. Ourselves, each other, the seeds of the apples of paradise.

Page 31 text:

it is all of these grass bricks trees glass bodies brains guts bones eyes nails how you are given the pieces blocks components elements you are told to assemble them do you know what it is you are doing understand the outcome do you know what it is you are doing understand the outcome do you proceed to predetermined ends or make it like soup out of whatever is at hand you see how hard it is to say this is this essence of these people 81 this place