Thomas Jefferson High School - Aurora Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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F RUSTRATICN Ever since the first day I entered Jefferson, I have asked myself this question over and over again: Who invented Freshmen? All I know is that Freshman year in high school is filled with mayhem, mishaps, and miseries. It seems as if a Freshman has the potential for committing idiotic blunders. The following are some of my painful experiences. My first dreadful mistake was one which has happened to all of us. I walked into a classroom thinking it to be my Math room. I innocently took a seat and prepared myself for the forthcoming torture-I mean lesson. I suddenly got the feeling that people were staring at me. I looked up and found myself peering into the face of a huge monster with a senior pin gaily decorating his shirt. Slowly the realization came to me that I was in the wrong room. I hurriedly gathered my belongings and ran out of the room with the words 'fFreshman burning in my ears. My next faux pas I guess is not likely to occur to just anyone. I un- knowingly wandered into the boys, locker room thinking it to be the girls'. The screams of horror and the ripples of laughter quickly awakened me to the fact that I had made another error and I madly made a dash to the exit. I could still hear them all calling out Freshie. My next experience was the coup de grace Cfinal blow if you haven't taken Frenchj. This occurred in the lunchroom. Boy, a person would think that the lunchroom was a place for nourishing oneself. Heavens no!! Not in Jefferson!! It seems as if the lunchroom is a place where you do your last minute homework, study for the surprise test you're going to get next period, catch up on the latest gossip and get run over by a little man who goes around with a garbage can, trying unsuccessfully to get us to throw our trash in it. But wait, you havenft heard the good part yet. I, the stupid fool, got up in the middle of a fight and got hit in the head with a milk container. That did it. I was ready to call it quits with high school, but then I realized that I had four more years to spend in this madhouse and, alas, I could do nothing about it. Thus, you have heard the trials and tribulations of my first year in this school. I can look back at my Freshman year and laugh at my mishaps. I guess Freshmen are the clowns of this three-ring circus of Jefferson. Janet Rosenbaum 5 ---si....4

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This noise has attracted the librarian, and as she comes towards him, like a hunter stalking prey, he quickly slides among the stacks to make a realistic pretense at tracking down a book. Besides the stacks, there are books on various sub- jects lining the walls that some students compare to pad- ding in a cell. However, these books serve various func- tions besides providing copy material Cand I mean copy! J for a book report or term sheet. Why, what other shape or object could successfully conceal your copying of your friend's Trig homework without being noticed? And for covering the mouth while relating some juicy gossip- Need I say more? However, if you should be careless enough to sit at a badly situated table, you soon find that the aforemen- tioned tactics are impossible. The librarian can then see directly over your unprotected shoulder. Woe unto you if she sees you busily engaged in anything but formal library procedure. But the worst catastrophe that could occur is to be caught sneaking a peek at the term sheets. However, despite the remarks and fun poked at the library, it still remains a valuable source of material neces- sary for successful completion of a student's work. Nadine Weiner , l

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CCIVIPARISCJN The freshman is the underdog, victim of a thousand tricks and insults. But he has, thank God, a sense of humor, duty and patience. He may not understand the working of the complex minds of the teachers, but he shrugs his shoulders as if to throw off a chip, smiles and does as he is told. Yes, the freshman is an optimist, by necessity, not by choice. The sophomore is a romanticist. He has just entered a magic world where he, for once, is superior if only to the lowly freshman. A sophomore com- mands respect and he never gives up. He braves danger-in the guise of teachers, and gets away without doing homework, once out of every ten times. The junior is a realist. He wants, more than anything, to join every club and team, and disappointment reigns when he discovers that all his efforts are in vain. He has started to work too late. The senior is none of these things. Hels mature, or at least thinks that he has reached that state. He has been through the mill, he has run the gamut of fads, emotions and many personalities and has finally emerged an individual in his own right. He's an odd person at times. Glad to be out of school and yet oft returning to this building because he finds it a haven of safety, and thrilled with the idea that he is here without the burden of lessons and he can meet his teachers with a friendly attitude. A senior is willing to take help, but he doesnlt want anyone to think that he needs it. He's anxious to graduate but worried about the future. He is a bit unsteady about stepping out on his own. He has had security, in this his home away from home for the past three or four years and now it is coming to an end. But why worry, and anyway it has been fun! Elayne Zatulove