High School of Commerce - Caravel Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 57 text:

Cfadd .Ahfsforg Four years ago we met in the auditorium of the High School of Commerce for the first time. Sur- rounded by our grade school classmates, we gazed about us with a mixture of curiosity and apprehen- sion. For the first time faced with the reality of that which we had been thinking of and picturing for the past year or so, we had to hastily readjust our con- ceptions of high school life. We had just begun to realize that in addition to our lamentable youth, we were awkard, unsophisticated-in fact, green - when we were ushered upstairs to our classes and high school began. As time went by, we came to the gradual realiza- tion that not only were we green and hopelessly immature, but the rest of the school considered us a big joke. Our egos shrank to half their normal size and we spent our time creeping along the halls and running whenever a senior hat appeared, for even then we knew that the word senior is synonymous with water pistol. During this period we were first told of that Commerce oddity, Ten Per Cent Day, and we learned through experience to dread the word, and, if possible, to develop a fever on that terrible day. Mid-terms and Regents came and went, but since we were too young and innocent to be lazy, we passed. June 30th finally came and we slunk out of school for the last time that year. We came back to school again in September, and everything seemed brighter. The very word sopho- more gave us new self-respect. With our tormentors gone, we felt able to scale great new heights, and even the combined efforts of our geometry, biology, and language teachers could not daunt us. We dis- covered the soccer, track and basketball teams, and screamed ourselves hoarse at countless games. Our school spirit grew by leaps and bounds, at times ap- proaching chauvinism. In our fourth term we cut our first class and some of us enjoyed it so much we were never seen again. Somewhere around April of that year we also dis- covered the opposite sex, and were so delighted with our find that we lost interest in everything else. By the end of the term 90 percent of the class was failing geometry or French, or both. Re-entering school in September, we determined to study. Soberly and virtuously we did all our home- work with such industry that our pleased teachers obligingly doubled our assignments. Since we were taking five majors, many of us gave up sleeping en- tirely and lived on black coffee. This feverish pace continued until, one warm january day, a few balmy breezes reminded us that spring was coming, that we were still young and healthy, and pandemonium broke loose. The Arista membership from the junior class dropped to an all time low, and cutting and hookey playing were the order of the day. Water pistols became best sellers over night in the nearby five and dime store, and we gleefully squirted anyone, aside from the principal himself, who came within fifteen feet of us. Unfortunately, the species: of fresh- man seemed completely extinct, so we took it out on the sophomores instead. They were all the same to us. After looking forward to our senior year for three long years, we returned to school in the fall of 1954 to discover that we were-juniors! By some obscure Commerce ruling Cprobably started by the same monster who originated Ten Per Cent Dayj, we would not have the privileges of seniors until our eighth term, and what is a senior without privileges? We impatiently watched the senior show, admired the senior hats, and even allowed ourselves to be thoroughly drenched by their water pistols, while we were biding our time. And then it came! The climax, the pinnacle of our high school career-our eighth term was finally here. The minor disappointment caused by the dis- covery that the best things in life Csuch as gradua- tionj, are not always free, passed. To walk through the halls, resplendent in a blue and orange beret and followed always by the envious glances of sophomores and juniors, was worth the money many times over. But the climax of the climax came on the day when we were able to tell a freshman where room 429 was -and squirt him with a water gun as he left. Even graduation will seem anti-climactic after that! Now, after four turbulent years of high school we prepare to leave for the last time. We have changed a lot during these years, but strangely enough we feel a little like freshmen again-curious a.nd a little afraid of the future and what it holds for us. ABBIE CRAMER

Page 56 text:

YEARS 0 J'MQ WW Q.i?f5Q5f1'fS' . M 3.1! Q M ' K! X . E T H E -4 EMM 'ig' Q. Q. A g?Z!ff6ZfW? , CHRISTMAS snows Luncu Pnzmons WERE GREAT.. wmv. mars., 62 I 5 g E .52 601 J, og' Jgpf fi .ci ...W A A 33.2-QQ 2 Jig ? ,Q E , , V af' Gifs gig Q .5 .figf 'b ! J V M 3 l g ohaegxl C f f i . f 4 , f4 GK ' , .5 EE . f 'J XZ K ii d AL -f. W - .i ,L3, yd X? - N 1, E A Agl ,! A74 l... K qggilgflzfisf- EX ,'L P VV . r. mllllihw Mm ., vm X THEN TH AND THE MORE THERE WERE WERE SERIOUS AFTEQSQHDOL NONEHTS... FEARFUL ONES.. Acnvmggm Q DAY A70 -ff 9 Nw 99 X r l W ' ' . 1 J rv wvy iff , -V . Y C qv ff f ! FlNALLYoooo .

Page 58 text:

gracluafion Now, after years filled with memories Both cherished, and forgotten, We are achieving a goal long sought . . . Graduation. Now, after many terms of anticipation, We are living every minute, every SCCOHCL Every long-to-be-remembered moment of this, Ollf Graduation. To some, graduation is the culmination of a bloody battle covering acres of pale, lined test papers, And fought with pens h Spouting seas of vari-colored inks. To others it is the logical result Of many hours of deserving labor. u U There is a fortunate group to whom gfaduatlon 15 merely A break in routine, p To be followed by years of similar routine Within cloistered, ivied halls. l Each and every separate individual reads his OWI1 deep and personal meaning into this, his own Graduation. Whatever our meanings, . . Whether they are escape, CU11T11f19-U00, Or, perhaps, a new beginning, l Regardless of our own small personal views, This remains our Graduation. This is our last, Our irrevocable step From careless youth to solemn adulthood. Stop! Look back! Then pause, reflect, And wonder what the unforeseeable future holds. Then, pause no more. Go forward only, away and beyond, But carry with you always The memory of that last, irrevocable step . . . G' 'd tion. ' ra ua Carl A. Gottlieb f7Ae CAM 0 1955 The Yearbook will bring back pleasant Cbut dis- tortedl memories when looked over in the future. However, we must remember that our high school years are but one link in the chain of life, although each link is important. We are graduating from Commerce High School. It has taken us some seventeen or eighteen years to get this far. We are products in which great invest- ments have been made, both tangible and intangible. We must also think of ourselves as the products of civilization. As Sinclair Lewis wrote, so that we might stand here Hannibal invaded Rome and Erasmus wrote in Oxford cloistersf' This does not mean they did it for our sake, but it shows how the past makes the present, and the present makes the future. Much of what we like and dislike on earth we owe to past generations. Much of what future generations like and dislike they will owe to the present. That is why every graduation is a call to arms. We want a better world for ourselves and our chil- dren. Nobody can achieve this but us and people like us. The two great problems of our age are how to achieve peace and prosperity. Can we solve these problems? By ourselves, probably not, but we should not fail to contribute something which will make the world a better place to live in, just as others be- fore us have done. This is the challenge the Class of 1955 must meet. Robert Halasz