Julia Richman High School - Spotlight Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 28 text:

Not wishing to seem too unworldly, we just nodded our approval and walked on. Next, on our tour of wonderland, guided by Dr. Lucey, who was a perfect host, we took in the co-educational features of the school,-the football fields and tennis courts, the wonderful backstage facilities for show producing and make-up, the craft rooms for the boys, and the newly- equipped gym for both the boys and the girls. By this time, we had regained our power of speech long enough to exclaim loudly and with much pleasure at what we saw before us-a door which was plainly marked POWDER ROOM. We walked in cautiously, never expecting it really to be what was marked on the door, and looked around. Sure enough, it was a powder room. There were cute little cuhby holes arranged on the walls, each one containing a mirror and pads of lipstick tissues. We wouldn't have believed it either if we hadn't seen it with our own eyes. Here, Miss Forest Hills, worn and tired from a day of classroom toil, can comb her hair and make-up and exit a rejuvenated girl, ready to meet any one or anything with a fresh face. And so, our tour, so ably guided by Dr. Lucey, was at an end. After signing our names in the guest book, bidding a reluctant farewell to Dr. Lucey and promising him that we would take his best wishes and kindest regards to his Dear Girlsf' we left the building, wondering whether or not we had seen what we did, or whether we had made a mistake and were now returning to a rain-soaked world from a true Shangri-la. SHIRLEE STICH Observation My future lies before me, My past is far behind, And I stand in the middle S About to start the climb. X X I have but little knowledge Z Of what Pm going to face, But what it is informs me well, It won't be commonplace. I'm armed with a diploma That to all will signify, I've spent four long and happy years At Julia Richman High. JOAN GRAS 24

Page 27 text:

eerin in 5014014 with an Ol? gvienb Plodding through the rain-swept streets of Forest Hills one day, two girls could be seen making their way toward the new domain of Dr. Michael H. Lucey, former principal, and friend of Julia Richman High School. What could be more fitting than to have our own Dr. Lucey as a subject for this feature story? Your two traveling reporters crossed the expanse of the rain-drenched green which is formally known as the campus of the Forest Hills High School, and entered the building. We were awed and more than slightly amazed! We wondered if by some mistake we had not entered Shangri- la instead of a stately institution of learning. Remembering all of our training on being social-minded and charming young women, we suppressed our desire to slide across the sleek marble floors of the main foyer and instead walked across them in a manner befitting two seniors of Julia Richman. After being welcomed cordially by Dr. Lucey, we proceeded on a tour of inspection of his new home and what we saw seemed to us a modem Utopia. First, we visited numerous classrooms, and, may we say here, that a 65QQ received in a classroom like those we saw, would not be too much of a hardship on either of us. Dr. Lucey told us to sit in the chairs connected to the desks, and what do you think? They go round and round like the chairs connected to soda fountains, and other such luxurious places!! While in the classrooms, we were shown the ample room the students have in their desks for books, lunch, and other such student baggage. The lockers are even better. They have combination locks already in them, and all you have to do is to remember the combination. From that point on, we were ready for anything, we were immunized against shock. As we walked down the long tiled corridors, we exchanged gossip with Dr. Lucey about his Dear Girls and his former faculty members. We passed through the cafeteria, and our all-seeing eyes took in the fact that the tops of the tables and the chairs were covered with blue leatherette. 23

Page 29 text:

o , New York, N. Y. M e e February 26, 1942 Joyce dear, You wrote to me yesterday and asked me what it's like to be a graduate. I'll tell you! Being graduated is something wonderful and something ter- rible. It's something so big that it amazes you, and something so micro- scopic, that, when you think about it in comparison with some of the really great things that have happened in this world, it means almost nothing. A few weeks before I graduated, I was certain that there was nothing more wonderful than getting out of high school, and getting rid of all the responsibilities that school requires. Today, I'm not so sure. I have to admit that it's still great fun to come home and not have to look forward to an evening spent doing homework. Then, again, part of the fun was the responsibility of homework and seeing that it was done every day. When I was at school, I never realized or appreciated the friendships and wholesome companionships that I made at Julia Richman. I never realized what fun it is to spend the better part of the day in the company and lively atmosphere of girls of my own age. My lunches downtown are not nearly so much fun as the lunches I partook of at Julia Richman. There I had so much to talk about, and so many girls who made ready listeners. My business life is so different from the life at school. Without my Julia Richman education, I wouldn't have been able to have secured the job I pow have. You know, as I look back, teachers are swell people to know. To tell you the truth, I wasn't prepared for the great amount of responsibility and care which was placed on my shoulders when I left school. I don't think I wanted to get used to the idea that now that I had graduated, it was up to me to live up to that diploma which I have hung up on the wall of my room. As a woman of the world fof one monthj I can tell you candidly and honestly, living up to the title of a high school graduate is not life tied up in blue and pink ribbons, but it is a challenge to the way of the world today. Now, I've told you what it's like to be a graduate. Oh, I forgot just one thing-this life gives me a chance to show every one that my four years of book learning, associations with people at school, homework and extra- curricular activities were not spent in vain. As one of the class of January, 1942, I have tried to show people that being a high school graduate isn't so bad after all. Love, LOUISE DUBIN 25