Fieldston School - Fieldglass Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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FESTIVALS The First and Second Form Festival started off with a bang. as balloons burst and one hundred Mid- dle-Schoolers poured out of the side doors into the au- dience. It was a Fieldston .llucy's Day Parade. Big people and little ran up and down the aisles, dressed as anything from sugarplum fairies to painted horses. Everyone got the chance to display his talentsg the dancing. singing. and scenery were blended together into a first-rate Tonmsone production. A scene from Little Women came first, followed by the Robin Hoof! skit, in which the boys obviously enjoyed shooting their imaginary arrows as much as listening to the applause their efforts drew from the audience. Father Time, looking very fetching in his top hat. chased the diapered New Year through the Calendar Scene. It was the last day before Christmas vacation, and, al- though the First and Second Formers were a little sorry it was all over. everyone left the Assembly Hall in the perfect mood for two weeks of celebration. All through February, people were puzzled about the Fourth Form Festival. 'flfirlzclg what's that?', hltls Einstein's equation, dope. Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared. Girls ran from the auditorium in abbreviated costumes. Strange noises were heard from the Physics Lab. Then there were the usual festival signs: people talking of classes they had skipped, a perpetual state of frenzy in the Art Building. and general excitement in the Fourth Form corridor. The acting was goodg the lighting and scenery were spectacular. The first bomb dropped on Hiro- shima spread over the earth the ominous shadow of man's powers of destruction. The story of Atom her- self. with the vital problem of controlling her newly liberated energy. was portrayed in dramatically terse scenes. Perhaps some of the creatively imaginative effects usually associated with festivals were lost in the presence of a world shaking subject. but we all did gain a clearer sense of the importance of this thought-provoking theme.

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PUBLICATICDNS The wheels turn. the ink runs smoothly. and thi- reeord ol' a yearis work if preseryed in hlaelx and white. Points seored and poetry. festixals and free- dom ofthe press. these are the parts that make up the whole. fused hy our ereatiy e powers. We are praetieal people as well as dreamers. For the unfortunate mm-mhers of the Lil .llug Board. Sunday is no longer a day of rest. Aspiring authors experienee their first literary pangs of joy oi sorrow. depending on the dem-ision of the almighty erities. hut getting up early is often repaid hy the tliw- eoyery of an unusual story or true poetit' talent. Fielzlgfrlss eomes hut onee a year, hut leading up to the date of puhlieation is the most complex jolt ol' organization and planning that eonfronts the staff ol' any puhlieation. Meetings take place on Tuesday nights. and roast heel' sandwiehes are forgotten in the midst of layouts. photographs. and seramhled copy, while the deadline dates loom darkly oyer the hori- zon. Spring draws near. and the final jolt of pasting up is completed hy ha rried editors. The end result-A a thin volume with aetiyities and emotions appearing as words on a page: hut they are words whivh have the power to make us rememher and recapture the excite- ment and pulselreat of a year that if now history. In the printshop. pieees of lead and type have to he assemhled and coordinated hefore a single idea eau appear on a printed page. There are noise and confusion. hut out of ehaos eomes a finished product. The Fielflslon .'Yf It'S eomes out on time. for news is only as good as it is fresh. and the deadline is all- important. Again we have rlltlwll that the pen is mightier than the sword. for the pen van deserihe the sword. and the minds of men can ereate heauty and power even out of the unproduetiye horror of war. For. with typewriter and printing press. we replaee eannon and hattleship. and the thoughts of free men. forged in hlaek and white. van pieree more deeply than a steel hullet.

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PILLARS CDE TENNESSEE MARBLE After a long train ride punctuated by cries of Freiheit and Peet Bog Soldiers, we arrivedm-most of us whole-in what to civilized New Yorkers looked like a cave, but to Washingtonians served as a railroad station. We were hurried into busses that swept through impressively clean and wide streets. From the windows we got our first glimpse of the nation's capital city. We gaped at buildings, parks, and people who looked important. Given the opportunity to view Congress in session, we stared at faces we had here- tofore seen only in magazine pictures, and important people suddenly ex- isted as themselves instead of as written statements in books and newspapers. We were flattered and pleased that Representative Roosevelt and Sen- ator Lehman found time to speak to us and answer our questions. We were awed by the magnificent Supreme Court building and the realization of the importance of each member of the group that holds the balance of Justice. At the Smithsonian Institute and the Library of Congress, at Lincoln Me- morial, and at Arlington Cemetery, the past became unified, and the history we had learned in books took on new meaning. In our few spare moments we felt adult and adventurous, occasionally to the distress of the teachers, but more often to our benefit and enjoyment. We climbed more stairs than there are in Fieldston and saw more famous people riding in a subway then we ever see in New York. Leaving a practically deserted hotel behind us, we boarded the New York train, enlightened and exhausted. For four hours we slept, read, sang, played cards, and compared souvenirs. The next morning we all rushed for the newspapers to look for familiar names and faces.