University of Kansas - Jayhawker Yearbook (Lawrence, KS)

Page 17 text:

SUMMER SESSION: Sa101, ,71.-Yeact, n 69 on) IS -7•11,11••• CO ure, go ahead and go. Classes are more fun, and you can have lots of fun on the side. And after all it ' s only for eight weeks, and you do need the hours and grade points. . . That ' s the classic, perhaps misleading, answer to the query about summer school, but coming from one who had gone the summer before— well, maybe it wouldn ' t be too bad. . . So the summer scholar enrolled himself in two of the more fascinating courses taught in sum- mer school—Prehistoric Man, Trees and Shrubs —and settled himself for another eight weeks in Lawrence. It is fun, he discovered. Studying was impos- sible in the steaming atmosphere of the library and improbable in the air-conditioned coolness of the Student Union. That left one possibility — getting by without studying. He made a valiant effort in that direction, rather than admit defeat. . an innocent walk across the green . . by MARY BETZ Professors didn ' t carry out the promises of former summer schoolers that they would be easier in the summer. In fact, there some- times seemed to be more work than one would find in a course during the regular school year. But you ' ll have afternoons free and that ' s lots of study time even if you want to party every night! the informant had told our luckless scholar. But the scholar had reckoned without the in- fluence of the swimming pool and lakes within a han dy distance . . . and besides, the heat was sleep-inducing, even in classes. What a herkimer he ' d been to listen to anyone else! summers of sleep The campus was very beautiful, though, he had to admit. It abounded with shady places to study on its acres of ground—but everyone else seemed to have gotten to them first. Winters of classroom sleep had been replaced by summers of sleep under the shade trees. Teachers were happier about this, except when the sleeper failed to wake himself to go to class, there to sit propped up and endure the lecture only until he could return again to his shady spot. Summer school brought a constant stream of visiting delegates to the campus, he found. In early June there was the unending (for a week of din, anyway) clatter of Girls Staters as they practiced government on the campus. Cam- paign speeches and posters cluttered the atmos- phere, as the pseudo-politicians reached full stride and went charging ahead, tracking down 13

Page 16 text:

IN ORDER—Three sophomores hold their collective breaths as checkers give them an okay or send them back to their advisers. THERE IT IS—A panorama of heads bent diligently over enrollment cards, of hurried consultations, of worried scannings of closed classes: Enrollment, 1953. Closed class boards ringed the balcony, so all students knew as soon as a class closed. And the pressure of time was eased as the registration forms could be ob- tained and filled out at leisure three to five days before enrolling. In the past, sweating over the yard-long reg- istration forms in Strong hall base- ment with visions of classes closing by the minute in Robinson gym was a major complaint. A new time schedule permitted any student to finish enrolling once he was in the process. Previously, an enrollee caught during the lunch hour had to start all over again. The enrolling student entered the south door of the Union according to the customary alphabetical schedule. In the main lounge area, portions of his completed registration forms were taken, fees were collected, and ID photos shot. Then up to the ballroom where he filled out the enrollment cards at his school ' s area. From there he went to the balcony to have class cards filled out, and it was all over. After sailing through the new pro- cedure, most students were doffing their hats to planners James K. Hitt, registrar, and George B. Smith, dean of the University. 0 I

Page 18 text:

474.11 b . abounded with shady places to study . the elusive elements of what makes government tick. Art and music campers made life more in- teresting for everyone — particularly did the baton twirling class, practicing near Haworth hall, lighten the days of the med students there. And a passing parade of guest conductors, roam- ing the campus for several days at a time, often treated the outsider to shows of superb long-hair eccentricity. But did anyone really study at summer school? There seemed many diversions. Our friend looked all about him, searching for the answer. Of course there were lots of other things to do— but students did manage to get things done, he concluded. shimmering-heat-ieebies Some of the most inspired papers of the sum- mer were whomped out as the writers basked in the sunshine at Lone Star Lake. No one who stayed on the Hill in the sizzling afternoons seemed to get past the shimmering-heat-jeebies enough to apply pencil to paper, or mind to thought. The new freshman thoughtfully ex- plained the phenomenon to the upperclassman: The reason it ' s so much hotter here than any- where else is ' cause KU is on a high hill, and that means we ' re that much closer to the hot sun than other places are. Whatever the reason, the heat was terrific. And the only relief from it, if one had to stay on the Hill, was to walk through the sprays left around by the Buildings and Grounds men in different areas. Such a practice brought sus- picious glances from more conventional passers- 14 by, so the spray walker had to develop a crafty look of surprise as if he had just happened to be walking by when all of a sudden—Swiiish! the water was turned on, and now he was fright- fully wet, but it really did feel good. A fellowship or underground movement of spray-walkers grew up, electing to meet at night when there weren ' t so many people to notice their unorthodox behavior—and also more sprays to walk through. Of course, some of the sprinkling wasn ' t planned at all. People just weren ' t warned when the sprays were laid out on the grass and when they would be turned on. Result: an innocent walk across the green might be turned into a nightmarish flight from an unrelenting deluge. union refuge Class at the Union became a favorite, and incidentally, a very hard-to-engineer pastime. Even when students magnanimously offered to have class in one of the meeting rooms, foregoing the pleasant clatter of the Hawk ' s Nest, teachers seemed unwilling to walk the short distance in the heat merely to reach the coolness of the building. Yes, summer school is all of this—but much more that is hard to describe. One can ' t pin down the beauty of the campus, or the more relaxed classroom atmosphere, or the unhurried- ness of campus life without the flood of regular- term extracurricular activities. The very heat and discomfort in summer school seem to form a bond of unity between underclassmen and graduate, professor and janitor, which isn ' t so much in evidence during the regular school year. No, it ' s not bad at all. See you here next summer? . . a constant stream of visiting delegates . .