Sarah Lawrence College - Yearbook (Bronxville, NY)

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describing the attitude of the people with whom one works at this college—especially their way of approaching Life and its manifestations. The “Ideal Community” we live in is a positive proof that there can be such a kind of life where people are guided by free, rational and broad think- ing, by spontaneous, irrational and sincere emotions — instead of being guided by narrowmindedness, prejudices and suppressed emotions, as people today are. We do not, however, get lost in this seventh sky, nor do we apply blinkers towards the problems in the world around us. Through the broadminded and unprejudiced attitude we are willing and trying to attain, we are aware that we must not be and are not separated from the world, but part of it. The only difference which may actually exist is that through our understanding we may be more willing and more prepared to work for a “better world.” In general, I feel that this year here in Sarah Lawrence College has influenced my whole attitude towards life and has brought me nearer to the attitude the Ancient Creeks had towards life. As Aristotle said: “Happiness is the con- templative life.” I couldn’t withhold mentioning my own dear country- men. But who does? After all, the Ancient Creeks are no more my ancestors than anybody else’s. That is why I feel free to praise them. Can you see now why I felt so impertinently sure that my answer would be one of the many but not one like the many? Maria V. Fotila ’50 Page Seventy-seven

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The other kind, the Sarah Lawrence kind of institu- tions, have made their reputations, too, but the people who stand behind that name are not convention’s slaves. They change with the tides of time, with the schools of thought and stand for the present and the future—not the past. Here teachers and students go along on fresh shadowy, and sunny paths which to them seem to be the right ones, without taking into consideration the much used, dusty narrow country road. Every new discovery, every new atti- tude, every new science is studied and approached with the same serious inquisitive and respectful attitude, as are the older sciences, arts, and attitudes. Classics are found side by side in the library with psychoanalysis and Stalin- ism. The teacher in the class is no more the all powerful, ex-cathedral, respect-needing man who hands over to the poor ignorant student some of his once acquired knowledge. Teachers and students are both explorers of the abyss-like depth of the philosophy of Life, Wisdom, Art, Man. I am afraid this all will sound too ideal to a stranger. As a matter of fact my first impression of this place was: an ideal community. You, my reader, will at once ask me: But what happens next? What when the student leaves this Utopia of an ideal community, this oasis, and enters the wide “real world, the desert? I knew this was coming. I felt that as much as I would explain about this college and its work, as many illustrative points I would give, I wouldn’t be able to give you the whole answer. I have given you an indirect answer in Page Seventy-six

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IMPRESSION II The other day at Westlands, a group of us were dis- cussing why we came to Sarah Lawrence. Some said it was because they wanted to be near New York ; some agreed that their parents had decided for them; still others were either interested in the progressive system of education or simply had craved free time and no exams. I had a different reason. When mother and I traveled up to the States from our home in Argentina, we were put off the plans for several days in Panama. Some of our friends met us at the airport. They settled us in a hotel and then took us to a club where they introduced me to several American boys in uniform. In the course of our where-do-you-come-froms, they hap- pened to ask me where I planned to go to college. “I don’t know,” I said, “I am so pleased to be settled in Foxcroft that I haven’t given college a thought.” “Oh, Vassar’s the place for you,” said one. “No! Smith!” shouted another. I turned to a tall dark boy to see what he would say. He asked ms to dance. They called him Alf and he came from Scarsdale. I liked this quiet man immediately, for he did not behave like Andy Hardy, or any of the funny paper heroes, which typified Americans to me. He was tall and serious and very good-looking. His green eyes teased me when I pronounced some word wrong. I introduced him to Mother, then, and she also liked him very much, far more than she had ever liked any boys I had known. Page Seventy-eight