Lipscomb University - Backlog Yearbook (Nashville, TN)

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FASTER, faster! Sackie Week and initiation of freshmen are almost “IF I SAY CRAWL, you crawl!” snarls upper classman, Ron Dixon. over. The mistreated freshmen compete in relays at the halftime of He barely manages to suppress a smile at the plight of a lowly “‘Sackie,”’ an interclass football game. who really isn’t scared at all. IT’S ALL FINISHED, and freshmen are no longer “sackies,’ but are people again. Jubilant, they race to toss their sack hats (symbol of their persecution) into the blazing bonfire. Page 19

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MOMENTS like these spent laughing, talking and singing around a bonfire give freshmen a feeling of comradeship. Singing together begins to become a favorite part of life at Lipscomb. Page 18 On Being a Freshman Coming to college for the first time brings rapid transitions. Realizing this, college personnel and upper- classmen endeavor to make the changes and new routines as pleasant as possible for the bewildered freshmen. There may be a twinge of homesickness or confusion as to how to go about registering. Yet, being a freshman is far from the deplorable state of misery and affliction it is usually pictured. For an entire week before the upperclassmen report for duty, the freshmen are formally initiated to the way of life at college. These are a baffling seven days—get- ting to know a roommate from the opposite corner of the country, learning about the extensive array of dormitory rules, and making friends with other be- wildered newcomers. At the informal freshman mixer, games and relays help ‘“‘break the ice,” and the names of fellow frosh begin to attach themselves to the correct faces. Later in the evening, a bonfire on the campus provides a per- fect backdrop for a song fest. Sitting among the boys and girls who will be his classmates and close companions (and down the row from someone who might be his future “one and only’’), the freshman joins happily in the singing. A formal reception on the lawn at Lipscomb is the grand climax of “welcome week.” The receiving line includes the college administrators and faculty members. Over and over again, “My name is...” and another freshman “belongs.” EXTENDING a friendly wel- come to the new class of fresh- men, the dean, the vice-presi- dent, and the president of the college are among those in the receiving line at the formal freshman reception on the lawn.

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cull “SORRY, but this section is filled,’ Patty Landon, instructor in secre- tarial science, tells a persistent sophomore who just can’t change her schedule this quarter. Page 20 Primer of Mob Psychology “Mass organized confusion” is what everyone calls registration. Lines never seem longer and tempers never seem shorter than on the days set apart for the purpose of signing up for classes. Three yellow cards, two blue slips, two white cards, two pink slips—and on and on are the materials required for this complicated process. Freshmen are expected to be confused at this new routine, but even third quarter seniors have difficulty getting their class schedule arranged on the Big Day. After standing sleepily in line for a few early morning hours, the registering student finally gets all the neces- sary cards, slips and class schedules. The next step is to find a quiet, secluded place, and, with pen in hand, begin to fill in the 363 blank spaces on the cards. A sigh of relief—all finished. Now the only thing to be done is to get the instructors’ approval and pay the bill. But problems always arise from some source or other, and again there are the long, long lines. Classes are filled, and a new schedule has to be worked out, which eliminates free periods and a lunch hour. C'est la vie. The trials and tribulations of registration day seem nothing in comparison to the pushing, shoving, elbowing mass of students on pre-registration day. Designed to eliminate confusion and save time, pre-registration is an example of mob psychology. Even soft music in the library (scene of the hectic battle) cannot save the stepped-on toes and claustrophobia victims. SITTING in a deserted corridor is as good a place as any for filling out registration cards, according to freshman Toy Martin, who is determined not to let this get him down.