Greensboro College - Echo Yearbook (Greensboro, NC)

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gencia on Piety Hill. We are the new frontier, the billowing faith of tomorrow — reveling in an atmo- sphere which reflects charocter — a character which has evolved from a great educational tradition — a pro- ductive tradition. Our lives are only incidentally affected by commence- ment speakers and voices who fin- ally call your name at the end of the line, shake your hand as you pass over the plotform, and give you a leather-bound piece of sheepskin.

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The mind sees the world as a thing apart And the soul makes the world at one with itself. A mirror scratched reflects no image — And this is the silence of wisdom. — Ernest Hyde College is an idea, a myth, a plan — a sudden burst of expansion — a movement from one way of life to another — a process in which the Page Fourteen total person is affected — it is no longer a time when students are called out of life to spend four years in academic sanctuary — it is a con- tinuous involvement in the life of society — it is extension and intensi- fication of our time. College is an afternoon swim, wrapped towels and cups of coffee — it goes on forever; from time passed on the eve of fire escapes and dormitory windows — it ' s three by five cards on Saturday morning, required chapel. College is lonely Saturday nights in your room, the hours spent in painful self-analy- sis over why you are such a social failure. College is a community — one of genuine friendliness and warmth and depth — one of search- ing young minds striving for cultiva- tion — maturation — on atmosphere in which we belong and find a place for service and growth. We are the parties, the shakers, the aftermath of empty bottles — we are college. We are not the cloistered intelli- 5J«iii '

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To us — college is a way of life deep rooted as a pine, a singing stride, final exams, passive awareness, vic- tory and defeat. We are the wash ' n wear button-down clowns, smashed in cranberry and bottle green. We are summer moments — tossed hair — wrinkled blouses— silhouettes against the dawn — spawning suns. We are the prisms of the modern — full ash tray — procrastination, mind — a song too soon a memory — Abstroct discussions over coffee and a quiet strand of beach — footsteps a deck — county fifty-two — hot dogs — college. It ' s an empty coffee cup — and bridge. The fountain — a silvery thrust raised majestically against the splendor of tall white columns — verdant cherry trees — dreams of spring afternoons — once upon a time — now still the fountain — silent sentinel of a dormant world once flowed life — waterfowl curved droop proud heads — dejected sur- render to a greater power — remem- bers fountain gleaming white — now tarnished it remains — years of neg- lect — almost forgotten, but not. We are old ivy — the demonstrators — profusion restrained — superfluous commodities — we are the student government revision committee —