Swarthmore College - Halcyon Yearbook (Swarthmore, PA)

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Swarthmore has been called a number of things. It has been called The Kremlin on the Crum, the Citadel of Individualism, A Seething Hotbed of Quakerism, The Home of the Honors System, An Un- healthy Place, The Finest College in the Country, A Monkey Studiously Examining Itself for Fleas, Hell. It has been called all of these things and more. But if four years at Swarthmore has taught us nothing else, it has at least taught us that no well-set phrase- indeed, no number of well-set phrases-can pin down Swarthmore. Because now it is, for better or for worse, a part of us, a part of our lives, indeed-if you will--a part of our souls. And what could be more persistently unnamable than that? XVhen we leave Swarthmore-when we catch that last glimpse of Magill, with Parrish squatting on the hill in all her haughty, ugly magnificence and the Libe, sullenly brooding over his tomes-we may leave in any number of ways. YVe may leave with a degree andfor an education andfor a spouse. XVe may leave disillusioned, pious, enlightened, pessimistic, opti- mistic. But there is one way in which it is impossible to leave Swarthmore. It is impossible to leave it naive- ly. It is impossible to leave it with the intent-or even the ability-to consistently kid or coddle ourselves. Out of our disparate terrains we came to work out the ideas and experiences together. YVe worked them out as best we could, and in the process, whether we like it or not, we have made them as much a part of us as we are of them. And if now Swarthmore is a place of goodbyes, whereas once it was a place of hello's, if now we have to go back to our separate lives, we're going to have a hard time ignoring this place. Because it's too vivid to forget and too good to want to. But who knows? Maybe the best is yet to come, maybe.

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FACULTY AND ADMINISTRATION . . . It is sometimes said that there are two kinds of salaried Swarthmoreans, those whom it is fun to know and those whom it is prudent to avoid. The faculty, it is said, are fun. They read The New Yorker, play poker, enjoy an occasional beer. They throw parties, even invite students. But the Administration, like evil, like Collection, are to be avoided at all costs. They don't have homesg they don't even have Hrst names. They have offices and titles. They give teas. And, poor souls, not only do they enforce The Rules, but they actually believe in them! And if there is no truth to this picture, there is at least a partial explanation. The explanation is, of course, that our perception is limited. For while we see the Administration only at teas, in Collection, in the Deans' or the President's Oflice, we meet the Faculty in the class room, in their homes, at Mary Lyons. But the reality is that although there are just two areas of encounters, two frameworks, there are not just two kinds of salaried Swarthmoreans. There are as many kinds as there are members.