Franklin Delano Roosevelt High School - Orbit Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 43 text:

Susan, what is your opinion on the current foreign policy now existing with the Far East? My heart skipped approximately 22 beats - ll countedi. How can Mr. Simmons ask me such a thing? How am I supposed to know that? I didn't do my homework since Lesson 7 and he's up to Lesson 27! I'll try to bluff under the circumstances and pretend to be rummaging about my papers for the assignment. Oh what's the use, Eagle Eyes Simmons can see that I'm just looking through my hygiene section. Mr. Simmons, why call on me today? I ALWAYS do the homework, and you decide to call on me on the only ex- isting day of my entire life when I just happen to be unprepared! I pray he fell for that excuse. He didn't. UBONG BONG BONG' -the euphonious song of the schoolbell - Aha - the grande finale has just terminated. Ecstacy, come and rescue me, the period has finally come to a more favorable, righteous, more virtuous locale -to my next period, LU NCH! SUSAN KATZ 39

Page 42 text:

My God! This period seems endless . . . perhaps, excruciat- ing monotony would depict this situation more appropriately! Mr, Simmons must be deranged if he thinks I give a hoot about who the prime minister of China was in 1905, I don't even know what a prime minister is or where China is situated on the map. If I ever had to take an exam with a map question on it, I'd never pass ... no way! Italy is the only country I can pick out- it is shaped like a Frye boot. I know as much pertaining to Chinese ministers as I care to know about the sex life of a tomato plant or how many hours it took Dick to overtake jane in a rate distance problem. Oh no! Now he's performing some type of rythmic motion in front of the classroom -IN FRONT OF HIS NOTES ON THE BOARD. He thinks he's DANCING! He believes he's another Fred Astaire! Isn't he embarrassed? .,, All I can say is that I'm surely embarrassed for him. I feel like I'm in a ballet studio. Ten o'clock in the morning. The thought of it is bizarre - my brain has a blockade disease before one in the afternoon. It's like an automobile. It needs a certain span of time to warm up prior to functioning. Twenty-five minutes until this glo- rious period concludes. Today there was an announcement that a five minute bell would ring every period. Thank good- ness, now I can pretend the period will end five minutes soon- er. The last five minutes never count anyway, because when the students hear the bell's melodious sweet tone, click is the sound of the closing pens from the fagged hands, slam is the sound of the closing books from the wearied eyes, and shrieking is the opening mouth from the fatigued teacher. What I fail to comprehend is why at the end of the period when all the kids have all their belongings away does the teacher at last decide to give a homework assignment. No- body craves such a treat - I could surely manage to survive the rest of my life without another single homework assignment. Only ten minutes have passed - I'm dying! Oh - Brian wrote me another note - he's my Flair Pen Pal. He shares the same desk as me the first period. We have quite a correspondence happening on this desk. He claimed he just wrote to tell me that he's really into the Allman Broth- ers and just thinking about them makes him want to party. Haiti.: .lr

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We participated only because we wanted to . . . and we loved it