Southeast Missouri State University - Sagamore Yearbook (Cape Girardeau, MO)

Page 12 text:

FALL ORIENTATION: FULL OF Leaving shadowed Walks to wait in the sun for his group assignment, the freshman is bemused, giddy, or passive in direct ratio to the amount of shade and number of familiar faces he finds around him. He finds, as thousands have found before him, that Orientation is, among other things, a Waiting game. Meanwhile, back on the terraces, student leaders adjust their orange badges, symbols of their chronological experience, and practice, in monologue, their cheerful and mature greetings for the tanned strangers Who are still only alphabetized names on a White piece of paper. SOUND AND FURY Orientation, dear Freshman, is a tale told by an idiot,1':uli of sound and fury, signifying noth- ing. BemUSeCl fl'9Shmel'1, 1500 strong, find that orientation is, among other things, a waiting game. 10 l

Page 11 text:

iixik SW W Xujqg wt if A FALL A torrid summer faded into the premeditated bedlam of autumn, and with its fading a new cycle in human affairs began: over 3,000 stu- dents poured into Cape Girardeau, unpacked their bags, and resolutely faced a new school year. Newcomers to the campus watched in amazement as their initiated companions turned an institution of higher learning into a gigantic playground. Slightly dampered by registration and the beginning of classes, the inferno cooled to a steady flame that was to burn brightest on weekends. Sprinkled with parties, concerts, plays, and cultural lec- tures, the season found students struggling to keep up with classes without missing the events of their unique society. Soon football was under way and students began priming them- selves for a bigger-than-ever-Homecoming-and it was. The day saw a Queen crowned, an extravaganza called a parade stretch itself from Main Street to Houck Stadium, and a close-fought football contest spend itself on 3500 spectators. But above the whirl of fall activity, the days held mellower tones of thoughtfulness, questioning, and challenge. By the time the color had faded from the wintering hills, a new cycle of human activity had gotten well under way. But the old melody lingered on, never to be exactly repeated, never to be forgotten.

Page 13 text:

An attempt to find oneself ends up only in losing oneself in the complex called orientation. For neophyte freshmen and advisers the clay is spent in hectic travels. It has been said that one must Hrst lose himself in order to find himself. But such is not the case here. The activity is rather 21 balm for hurt minds, for feelings of insecurity, a salve for a means of quickly get- ting lost in the mull of things Without any real hope-in fact ll fear-of ever finding himself. Ancl so the Clay Wanes with the greatest single activity being that of meeting the faces than they meet. Hectic card filling-out occupies every sitting moment, while standing moments are devoted to forming endless lines that lead on to nowhere. QA NN. ll