Emerson College - Emersonian Yearbook (Boston, MA)

Page 10 text:

COLLEGE! This was a word that we didn ' t quite understand in September, 1949 , but it sounded terrific. College was a big step towards maturity. It was a colossal undertaking which involved a new wardrobe of clothes, a medical examination, shots for typhoid and tetanus, and hundreds of well- wishes from relatives and friends. It was an important moment when we had finished packing and were in the family car on our way to Emerson College, Boston. But the three brownstone buildings on Beacon Street weren ' t quite as impressive as we had imagined, and our introductory convocation and tea in the theatre wasn ' t exactly what we expected. Our new friends, however, made those first few days exciting, so by the time classes began, we were still in high spirits. With the beginning of classes, we learned th ABC ' s of Emersonianism. Emersonianism was com- pounded of equal parts of The Polish War Song, Out to Old Aunt Mary ' s, The Pied Piper of Hamlin, and Brutus ' speech to Cassius, (the tent scene from Julius Caesar ), with liberal sprinklings of God of Our Fathers, and Whoal Since speech lies at the heart of Emersonianism, we became best acquainted with our speech teachers. Before long, though, we realized that the entire faculty and the administration, which inclu ded a new President, Dr. Godfrey Dewey, was thoroughly competent and well worthy of our respect. Towards the end of October, we were subjected to the rigors of hazing and Hell Night. We were forced to become the galley slaves of the All-Mighty Sophomores, addressing them at all times as Your Most Exalted Majesty. We suffered resignedly, and waited to sweep to our revenge the following year, when a new crop of Freshmen arrived. By November, most of us had settled down to one particular group of friends and made our headquarters in the cafe, the smoker or the ladies ' lounge. By June, we knew all about college. We knew about P. O. E., the Interclass Dance, the Junior Prom and the Senior Ball. And what more was there? Suddenly we were Sophomores. All knowing, all powerful Sophomoresl No longer was the idea of college, of Emerson in particular, an overwhelming impression. We were part of Emerson, very important parts. In fact, each of us felt a little bit bigger than the college as a whole. We were busily finding places for ourselves in the various departments of Emerson, and we were making our presence felt in the many organizations. We were, perhaps, more aware than ever before in our lives of the fact that we were individuals — individuals in a college which approves, which promotes, which demands even, individuality. Our most grotesque undertaking was the hazing of the Freshmen. Memories of sufferings we had undergone as Frosh made us eager for retaliation — taken out on the poor, innocent newcomers to Emerson. Were such torture chambers ever constructed before, even by the Spanish Inquisitors, like those devised by the Hell Night Committee? But soon it was over, and we lordly Sophomores unbent a little to become friendly with our erstwhile victims, who were willing enough to forgive and forget. Those of us who were taking the sophomore theatre course found an outlet for our melodramatic energies when the Bandbox theatre produced ' Phaedre the first semester. The rest of the school found travelling through the corridors dangerous because of the sweeping Greek gestures assumed by the theatre crowd. The second semester brought a Shaw production and a switch, therefore, from emotionalism to intellectualism. Other Sophomores began to feel philosophical twinges, and profound, abstract conversations became the order of the day. Meanwhile, the radio people were being initiated into the mysteries of the air waves and learning to form mental pictures for their unseen audience. And the Speech Therapy majors were frightening us all with horrible taies of what could happen to our voices. We showed that we could change our pitch by calming down enough to give the annual Sophomore Tea for the faculty. We came out of ourselves long enough to realize that some pretty important and exciting things were happening besides those for which we were personally respon- sible. Emerson ' s president, Dr. Godfrey Dewey, left us for Lake Placid, and Dean Jonathan French took over his duties. Emerson became accredited. And Emerson ' s campus was slowly being trans- Page Six

Page 9 text:

Dr. Richard J. Pierce Page Five

Page 11 text:

formed into a super-highway. These were momentous changes in the life of Emerson. The changes wrought in our own lives during two years of college life interested us more. For we had changed, we were sure of that. We felt different somehow — we felt like EMERSONIANS. We were ready to relate ourselves to the whole. Bridge, coffee and cuts. That ' s all, that ' s all, that ' s all. That ' s all college is. . . . We started our junior year feeling very cocky. The new Freshmen were mere babies who didn ' t yet know what it was all about. But we could tell them! Bridge, coffee and . . . but suddenly cuts weren ' t so funny anymore. After all, only one more year after this one and then . . . graduation . . . Junior activities took some of the bridge playing time ... we still needed the coffee, though. We had become realistic. We were in the period that accentuates tempo, and our tempo was pretty fast. So many things to do and so little time to do them. We started making plans for our yearbook, we made arrangements for our Junior Prom. One of the most vitalized pictures which we will remember is of our lovely queen, Marjory Perkins (now Mrs. Roche) reigning at the Parker House Roof. We assumed a larger share in the activities of the school at large. Two of our classmates, Les McAllister and Marje Perkins, held important offices in the Student Government. Other juniors became leaders in the religious organizations, the fraternities and sororities, and the ' Berkeley Beacon 7 We were prominent, too, on WERS, in debate, and in Mrs. Kay ' s productions. Our own Prom wasn ' t our only pause for relaxation. There was the Interclass Dance, the Zeta Musical, and the Alpha Pi Theta Courtyard Fair. Everybody went to the Berkeley Beacon Party to have Knickie tell his fortune. Those fortunes were encouraging for the future, which for us was beginning to look terribly important. We paused for reflection . . . Emerson wasn ' t the same without Mr. Kenney. The halls didn ' t echo with whoas anymore and the freshmen weren ' t scared into submission . . . Mr. Connor ' s absence saddened us — Phi Alpha Tau held a Joe Connor Day and presented Mr. Connor with a plaque in token of our esteem for him, — we winked back the tears. A brighter occasion was Hand Me Down Day, when our own Pat Collins was crowned as May Queen. Then there was Commencement. We sat up and took notice because next time it would be us. We didn ' t know quite how to feel. Our ratio of values had been changing; we had reached realism. Would wo achieve artistry? Now we were Seniors; we had reached the final stage of our evolution. We didn ' t feel ready for it somehow. We didn ' t think that we had magnanimity of atmosphere , nor were we ready to be obedient to our art. But we were determined to make the most of our last year. We elected our May Queen, Pat Collins, as our class president. Joe Falzone was made Editor of the EMERSONIAN. And the annual struggle of classes vs. cuts began again. The struggle was even more bitter because cuts just weren ' t allowed. Even if we weren ' t ready for magnanimity of atmosphere, we realized that the school as a whole was well on its way to achieving it. The radio department gained new vigor as Mr. Dudley resumed his position as its head. Soon it was campaigning for funds for a bigger voice. We were all happy to welcome back Dr. Justus McKinley. Dr. McKinley Had served as head of our history department for several years. When Jonathan French resigned, Dr. McKinley returned to become our President. As soon as mid-year exams were over, graduation loomed near. And what would we do after that? That question haunted us. It overshadowed our fun and made every other problem seem insignificant. It led us to look beyond Emerson. It led us to consider how well prepared we were to face the world we had to enter so soon. Most of us felt a terrifying sense of inadequacy. We had not achieved artistry during our college years. Perhaps we would atta in it in later years. Page Seven