Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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The world has been obsessed, since the World War, with a mania of unrest and change. There are now thirteen dictatorships in Europe where there were none before the war. If we realized how miserable life would be for Anglo Saxon people under a dictatorship without free speech, our national hymn would be, God Preserve Our Constitution. Helen Eveleth, Low Nine. A SERIOUS OFFENSE? We, the people of the United States, in order to, here Jack stopped reading. Leaning back against the trunk of the tree he took another bite of a delicious green apple. Then he sighed, Gee, I wish there were no Constitution. Laying the book aside and stretching into a more comfort- able position, he gazed wishfully into the nearby woods. He was aroused suddenly by a sharp poke in the stomach. Scrambling to his feet he looked around but could find no one. However, he did see something else. A large sign in rough, rough letters read, Unite the Underworld and Olympus, Vote for Pluto. Next to this sign was an- other which read, Re-elect Jupiter. Humph! personally I wouldn ' t have either, mumbled Jack, who was unaware that Eris, Godess of Dis- cord, had overheard him. What! Ho! Stranger, thou shalt pay for those words, cried Eris in glee. Come with me! You can ' t do this to me, cried Jack. This is a free country. It won ' t be after the election, when Pluto is president, replied Eris, as she led Jack to the White House, and repeated his remark to Jupiter. Well, young man, said Jupiter to Jack, I cannot let you remain unpunished for such a serious offense. In Olympus, everyone must vindi- cate himself if he makes bold speeches. You must do battle with Mars to prove your valor. Wait! Here is Mars now. You shall contest immediately. Let the fight begin! And here we are at the Olympic Stadium, cried Mercury, the sports announcer, through the microphone. The fight ' s beginning. A left! a right! our friend is down. Wait, he ' s up again. Mars gives him a left right in the stomach. He ' s . . . Wake up, Jack, commanded his mother. What is the matter with you? Oh! oh, cried Jack, holding his stomach. Open your mouth, commanded his mother. Just as I thought, Castor oil for you. Jean Anastas, Loiv Nine. Sunset Sunlight flickering through the trees, Evening sighing peacefully, Shadows falling, Shadows creeping; Purple, gold, and scarlet hues, Lone stars hanging in the west, Dusk enthralling. Nature sleeping. Anne Kidder, High Seven. [27]

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My Most Valuable Privilege Under the Constitution of the United States (First prize, American Legion Essay Contest, Berkeley, 1936) Early in the 1600 ' s, when my English ancestors left their comfortable British homes for new dwellings in the then recently-established Massa- chusetts Bay Colony, they brought with them what was to be my most precious heritage — freedom of speech. It had taken the middle-classes of England centuries to wrest this fundamental right from the dictatorial kings and nobles. The first great step had been the signing of the Magna Carta. Then had come an act of Parliament, called the Bill of Rights, which is regarded as the most important constitutional document in the history of England. When the thirteen colonies separated from the mother country and became the United States of America, a supreme law was needed. It was natural for them to turn to the Bill of Rights for their model. After the best minds in the country had worked on this project, our present Con- stitution was evolved. It has not only served its purpose satisfactorily, regulating the lives of the American people, but has been used as a model for a supreme law in many Latin American republics. Until recently, I have taken the Constitution for granted, rarely thinking about it at all. But after having studied Civics last year, and after having seen the ill effects of the loss of free speech and other con- stitutional rights, through dictatorships, in most European countries, I have become conscious of my safety under a well-formed Constitution. Like my Puritan and Nordic ancestors, I resent any interference with or suppression of my thoughts. Today, in Russia, a man ' s first allegiance belongs, according to an oath which he is forced to take, to the Communist party, and to the red flag. There is no free speech, no free press, no free radio, no right of assembly. Anyone in Russia who criticizes the government, as Communists criti- cize the American government, is sent to suffer in Siberia, or is shot with- out trial or mercy. Imagine such conditions existing here among my friends and neighbors! If America became Communistic, the following could happen every day: A miserable little group of friends sitting here, all thinking the same things but not daring to put them into words; Mr. Jones sent to Little America because he openly preferred the red, white and blue flag to the Communist red one; pathetic old Mr. Brown placed in a concentration camp for saying, My great, great grandfathers fought in the Revolution- ary War, and I fought in the Civil War, and my family has always been American, and 7 shall die American! In Germany, citizens are spied upon by employees of the govern- ment. If someone chances to say something disrespectful about Hitler or the Nazis, he may expect to be sent to a concentration camp by the gov- ernment, whose spies, undoubtedly, heard his words. Even the telephones are tapped, and any person may expect to be summoned to a government agency, to hear a record of his speech with another citizen. In America, anyone may express his opinion of the government, whether it be favorable or unfavorable to the party in power. [26]

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SUNRISE ON THE LAKE The tall, green pines are pale and ghostly, edging the deep white canyon which shelters the lake. The stream is muffled and the shivering pines are still, but through the curtain of mist, dusky forms are seen stealing to the water ' s edge. The deer are watchfully drinking. A fat, round shadow steals to a thicket but too late, for the deer have scented the intruding bear and are gone. The jay with his harsh cry has warned the forest folk. To the right, shadowy forms are taking shape, as the huge mountains which guard the lake appear. The mist is lifting and faint pink and yellow clouds are seen in the distance. The yellow fades to brilliant pink and then to crimson as the shafts of sunlight pour forth. The crimson clouds have rolled away and as a fiery ball appears in the East, we know Apollo has kept his promise by bringing us another new and perfect day. Marjorie McClellan, High Eight. Nativity There once ivas born in Bethlehem , A child of noble strain. The angels, %vith their diadems, Sang him their glad refrain. Gold and myrrh, the Wise Men brought, To the feet of the Blessed Child, Hands full of gifts, in far lands, sought, For the Babe and His Mother mild. Jean Irish, High Nine. Autumn Leaves Swirling, twirling, down the lane, Dancing, prancing, some are plain, Some are colored yellotu, red; Never seem to go to bed. Helter, skelter, this ivay, that , Each a fairy acrobat; Now they flutter ' cross your face, As the north %uind sets the pace. Brownies — each tuith pointed toe — Tripping in the twilight glow; Anyone, %vho just believes, Knows they are not Autumn Leaves! Barbara Jane Breckenridge, High Eight. [28]