Pratt Institute - Prattonia Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 7 text:

Every twenty years society’s work- shop needs cleaning up. Vices of men, of methods, and of ways, creep into the tidiest and best ordered of works, clogging the machinery, driving out the spirit, and setting up the letter in- stead, and the schools get into the deep ruts on the line of march. It is at such junctures that men like the founder of Pratt Institute put their shoulders to the wheel. The urgent problem which next loomed up was how to provide art, science, literature, industrial and technical training, not alone to growing boys, but to girls; not alone to the young, but to those older; not alone to the rich, but to the poor; not alone to the cultured, but to the uncultured. Here was a magnificent question to ponder. The service to the present and future generations was yet to be performed by the Founder of Pratt Institute. The world for a hun- dred years had spasmodically cried for equality, and here was one who was to proclaim practically by a great gift that equality in education must precede that of society. It is not little to be grateful for, that here in Brook- lyn has sprung up a center of educa- tional activities devoted to this noble end. At first glance, it might appear that the music and art departments and library were its only promoters, yet each of the departments is simi- larly engaged. The love of form, color and design, the insight into the won- drous domain of science, together with the subtle blending of fine arts and applied arts announce the unity of purpose of all the training and edu- cation at the Institute. This book is dedicated to the man who made this a noble reality.

Page 9 text:

i 4 ] Through a big window of a cherry room in Pratt Institute, the sunshine falls all day. It lies on shimmering heaps of tinsel, gauzy stuffs and flash- ing jewels. It plays about roses and gay tulips and dandelion “Blow- aways.” It strikes out sparks from jet and silver, and here and there it gleams on the wings of a dragonfly. But most lovingly it frolics with long rows of bright heads fringed with fluffy curls. Nimble fingers fly briskly to put into outward and visible forms their own private dreams that there may be joy in the house and not sigh- ing when Spring fashions bloom in the shop windows. N.Y. Recorder 4 22 91