Randallstown High School - Horizon Yearbook (Randallstown, MD)

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I 's the thinking man's square hatis this? Men Wearing tar- tan kilts? Knee highs? Peo- ple in ballet slippers? They seem to be having fun, but Whats going on? Wait a minute-one of the faces seems familiar. Hey, it looks like Mrs. Duncan- Moretti, the English teacher. What's she doing here? This seemingly unusual scene is actually a weekly meeting of Scottish Country Dancers. And yes, Mrs. Duncan-Moretti is one of them. She and her husband Freddie, dancers for several years, belong to the Baltimore Scottish- Country Dancing Club, a branch of a Scot- land-based organization. According to Mrs. Duncan-Mor- etti, Scottish country dancing is known as the thinking man's square dancing. Existent since ancient dancing times, it is similar to square dancing in its formations and patterns, yet differs in its ballet-like steps and graceful movements. At the beginning of a typical class, the instructor reviews some of the hundreds of dance formations. The dancers then practice the formations accompanied by recorded music. Having reached intermediate abil- ity, she and her husband are prepar- ing to become dance teachers. In or- der to do so, they must pass a vigor- ous screening. First they take a written exam, fol- lowed by a practical exam supervised by an experienced, usually Scottish, dancer. The Morettis plan to in- crease their proficiency by traveling to Edinborough for two weeks of summer school. They claim that they enjoy danc- ing because it is an excellent exercise. The couple adds that the people in the club are like a big family. Another benefit the dancers derive is the pleasure of performing before an audience. They have participated in dance parties and formal dances. The Moretti's wedding celebration featured Scottish dancers. Also, the club exhibited its talents on channel 13's Evening Maga- zine. Although participants take their dancing seriously, they have fun as well. After all, that's how the Moret- tis met each other. Faculty! 131

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Anne Muren: Physical Education 10. John Peddicord: Algebra I and II, Math 10. Robert Prince: Social Studies 11, images, behavior. Evelyn Quinn: Physical Education 10, 11. Barbara Rees: library. Robin Rich: Social Studies 10. L. Maxine Robinson: personal use typing, Shorthand II, typewriting and office procedures, cooperative office education. Margaret Rohnacher: secretary. William Rust: algebraic topicsftrigonometry, computer math probability and statistics, consumer math. Doris Saunders: chairman, Math 12, Algebra II Hermine Saunders: chairman, English 12. Toby Schenerman: personal use typing, Accounting I and II. Theodore Schorr: physics, project physics. Kathleen Schmidt: English 10, 11. 130fMuren-Schmidt G- ,,. 1' iqm -rs,-..' K as gg . ..,-1' G53 . ,. KWX . x 'Qin ' rsh ,, f 5 ...X z if ,,.x, of I ,ff 2, A' ffl! ff If P Members of the club join hands in another part of the Strathspey. It's a slow dance from Scot1and's Spey Valley. May I have the next dance? The Morettis dance the Strathspey, a type of step unique to Scotland. 42-1 This could be square dancing, but Mr. Moret- ti's kilt would be out of place: it's Scottish square dancing. The Morrettis execute a two- handed turn.

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s a child I would some- times sit on the porch and dream of traveling to places my teachers taught about. I never ex- pected to go anywhere except Phila- delphia. There, I visited Aunt Shir- ley and Aunt Millie. They were al- ways nice, but hardly exciting as I just knew the Liberty Bell and Inde- pendence Hall would be. Then, my sixth grade class went to Washington, for me it was like walk- ing through a series of picture post- cards. I was really somewhere. Years laterl went to Canada, an easy introduction to the world. Mon- treal was French, but not completely so-escargot with subtitles you might say. Next, I jetted to the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia. In the depths of winter I walked in Red Square, played with children in the parks, as grandmothers beamed, and saw the monuments whose pictures enliv- ened so many a text. I viewed Lenin in his crystal-capped coffin, toured palaces where tsars had partied and pondered, and stood by Peter the Great's desk as I viewed Catherine the Great's diamond and ruby crown. Everywhere, I talked, observed and learned. Later, I crisscrossed Europe on several occasions. I exulted in every tourist cliche from Big Ben and the Changing of the Guard, in London, to castles in Spain. Everything was wonderful and new for me. I recalled slides shown by my fifth grade teach- er, and couldn't really believe I was in those same places. One autumn I applied to the U.S. Office of Education for a Fulbright Fellowship to study and travel ex- tensively in India. It was obvious to me I wouldn't be one of the twenty- two to be selected from around the nation. Interviews followed. Then came a long-distance call to my school one morning. I was going to India, gratis. India is an indigestible slice of all that is best and most dismal. There is an overwhelming wealth of exotica- smells, temples, foods, colors, land- scapes, and peoples. I rode elephants and camels. I hiked to a glacier in the Himalayas and sweltered in tropical lowlands. I stayed in a six-room Surrounded by Chinese paintings and embroi- dery, Mr. Snyderman points out the details on an ivory carving of a Geisha from Japan. The Indian table is inlaid rosewood. Have dreams, 132fSchneider-Tromble will travel house-boat in Kashmir, roach-infest- ed relics of the British Raj, and Ma- haraja's palaces. I was entertained by so many people, from villagers, to teachers, I saw the Taj Mahal by daylight and moonlight, at sunrise and sunset. I made friends. Poverty in India is so dire, so be- yond hope or help, that you must became numb to it or suffer guilt ev- ery time you eat or take a walk. Yet, walking through those poor, mean streets can take you to a boatyard in a place like Benares. You can sail down the river, and see people bath- ing in the holy river, Ganges, seeking renewal through ancient ritual. For just a moment, you wonder who is poor. There have been so many places since India. Japan and Hong Kong, workshops of Asia, but so different, and equally compelling. To say I rode the bullet trains of Japan, bar- gained in flea markets, ate raw fish and eighteen course Chinese ban- quets, strolled through eerie Bud- dhist cemetaries atop mountain. re- treats, is to tell you so little of what I saw or what it meant. I found out why Thailand is called the Land of Smiles. Those smiles are sweeter in person than on the most vibrant travel posters. Who expected my visa application to China would be approved? I didn't. New York University, under whose auspcies I was applying, warned me that only five thousand Americans, including diplomats and VIP's, would be admitted that year. A few months after I completed that sterile form, I was walking on the Great Wall, crossing a bridge used by Marco Polo, and helping English students at Shanghai Uni- versity work their way through a vol- ume of English literary criticism! I descended into the tombs of Ming Emperors and ascended steep stairs to workers' apartments. It was quite an experience to ogle the trea- sures of the Forbidden City while hundreds of Chinese tourists ogled me. There were communes and cooper- atives, and everywhere political lec- tures, predictable and dull. However, China and her people are anything but dull. That little boy who dreamed on a Baltimore porch would have been so happy if he'd only known he'd get to Washington, D.C. some day, and then so far beyond. He still dreams of distant lands. Do you? -Albert Snyderman