Yeshiva University High School For Girls - Elchanette Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

Page 32 text:

, W. i - .Q 4 f' Q f -,ggi . , , ' -, if 'iv l I I . xx-. 3 .- 0 . i T V Q i ' t b i .:., T'f Q ' .f A .hz ' 2 Z. A T lt's impossible to explain a Senior. How can we say wild and wonderful. l03 all different and all the same, How can we explain laughter and friendship, excite- ment and boredom, when we ourselves don't understand it. We want this to be as perfect as thc year itself. How can we cram so much into so little? Ask any of us what we're looking for- ward to and you'Il get the same answer -June 22. Ask us the greatest time or the worst and you'll get 309 different replies. How does it feel? The answers vary. Each one is different. This year is different. Suddenly we are They. We are leaders. We are the G.O. We are heads of Arista, Bookroom. Cheer- leading. Cl1oir,Sherut. Bikur Cholim, and any other club Central might have. Ofhcial or not. We are the Yearbook and the Co-op, We are the fearless who are frightened by the future. We are the subject of the cliche--tI1at's what they say. We can tell teachers what we feel. We can sing Who are we. mighty line . And we stnile, for we know it's true. We are the first dismissed from assemblies fnol the first out. just the first dis- missedl, We cut classes. We have cour- age. We are Mr. Spin's crap-shooting class, We have achieved the impossible and understood Mr. Kamber. Suddenly it has become very important to contribute, to be part of, to partici- pate. It is the last chance. New friends are made in a rush. The year is speeding by. It is now important to let the girl who has been sitting next to you for four years, know that she's been great. We are the ones writing compositions about the future. For most it's scary. There are days when school spirit runs high and days when no one gives a darn. It can depend on the temperature in Mr. Hoffman's room, or the rain falling, or the sudden realization that we are graduating, They told us we had sen- ioritis when we were Juniors. And it's true. One year hasn't made that much ofa dilTerence. But when we reflect . . , Our freshman year seems millions of miles away. Did we meet just then? Why wc've known each other all our lives. At first we stood in groups. It's much different now. We are ilu' group. Can youjust imagine? Tuna hsh sandwiches, one frog, tw0 eyes in the puddle: an underground haven: hubbuh and hullabaloo. dark and dingy --still, it's ours land Rabbi Rubefsi, Lunchtime is a very special time. lt's escape. lt's the hrst time you've smiled since yesterday after- noon. Of course there was the day Yarmish struck -which caused his strike. So they all went hungry, but we didn't care. And the singing --who can

Page 31 text:

Btn J, -1 i 1 ofa 1? E9 - 5' 5- V all ,fi ri- 1. F 1 E ------ 1 S -,,.-. .. 4-ev-1rag2 l iw i i l27 Being ajunior is being miserable, but you have to go and suffer a little when you want to get something. Just a little more time and we'll reach that peak. So it's all worth it and we wouldn't have missed it for the world. There was so much we had to go through . . .French re- gents. It's hard to believe that we knew as much French when we came out as we did when we started the course. Marshal was right. We spoke French like Spanish cows and knew even less. Spanish regents, Across the Pyrenees we have the Span- ish students. But, we can't discuss them because it's a very touchy subject for Mr. Fohr. Third year Math regents. Spin, Paley. Kaufman. They all helped us along a little. So did the girl sitting next to you. And there was Sten. We heard stories and stories and more stories. Mrs. Beck. Her attempts at grooming us to be charming young ladies failed, but don't worry girls -we're all potential Queen Esthers. This was the course that taught us all about continuity, angularity, and readability. Show us a girl who can do all three and we'll show you a chem student. Chemistry, The elective that not too many of us wanted to experiment with. There must have been something to that course, though, when an entire class comes out of regents with marks like those. Or was it the cazuive. We love you, Mr. Cheney. But we remember the good things, too. Mr. Kaufman was the host with the most-gave us par- ties all term long. Then there was the day he helped stop the rumble outside in the street. Our hero. Now, don'l get us wrong. He did teach us some math. Mr. Hoffman. We had a brief encounter with him and then he got sick on us. And so we were introduced to Mr. Lubetsky, And Mr. Lubetsky's voice. Man--could his voice carry. ln the little time we spent with him we had a test, and one of us had the opportunity to visit with our dear principal, Yes, we remember Mr. Lubet- sky. We were glad we didn't have to live with him. Well. most ofus that is. jest a minute! Best of all we remember Miss Silver. Zero hour. It's funny but you felt pretty bad when you didn't get one. Congratulations to our 44 year-old English teacher on the occasion ofhis parents' 43 rd wedding anniversary. Our junior weekend, Ourjunior weekend? Ourjunior weekend was going to be in Seagate but somehow the idea got all washed up. We won again. This time it was our competitive' assem- bly and our victory was understandable. Thats more than we can say for the play. We saw history being made. Twice we experienced brutal assassinations oftwo great men. RFK and Martin Luther King. Each time a widow was left to care for a fatherless family. And each time we felt their sorrow. It hurt us, too. We went through a lot that year, and realized that we must be growing up. And we were, That's being ajunior.

Page 33 text:

explain that? No, we'rc not copying homework or memorizing French poems. We've passed that stage. We've grown up . . . lnexplainably.the water- guns came. From behind a pole, from under a table- POW -you're dripping wet . . . Only a senior. For only a senior come Scholarships and College Boards. And we were caught unaware. They were real this time, and we were frightened. If only they had asked abate, abash, abettor . . . for those we were prepared. But we're never prepared for Mr. Hoffman. The dark, brooding eyes roaming over the alphabetical list. Quiet. Each girl silently praying, waiting for the mysteri- ous power to deliver her from a fate worse than death. Finally-Fishinhoff, come here and mess up the Chumash. And she does. So do we all. Only a sen- ior. Who else but a senior could truth- fully say, I'll have to think about that , when asked if she'd rather pass or fail. Who but a senior could come right out and tell Mrs. Gottlieb what she really thinks: or tell Rabbi Rubel that we du have our own sacred cow, or laugh with Dr. Bohensky and his jokes. We laugh with Rabbi Rosenmund, too. Addition and abstraction-no, no-I mean multiplication . Only someone who didn't really know him could think he was a devil. lt's'likeihe said- I have no horns: l don't even have hair . And anyway, with his heart... March I9 was the day we were litted for caps and gowns. It was a funny time and a sad time all mixed together. It was the closest thing to the real thing. We found out how tall we had grown and how our heads had swelled since freshman year. We all laughed a lot and said we couldn't wait and didn't care. But we did and do. Oh, and we forgot to tell you. There was Bonche Shtok . . . Senior hats and Big Sister. . . Steve Herbsman engaged to IO3 and Judy engaged to no one at all . . . Mysterious bells which didn't sound quite right . . . Dr. Joffen . . . There were boy problems and boy joys . . . And laughter in the wind that blows through autumn leaves sung over and over again . . . Woliish tinally straightened out . . . Kaufman stayed as great as ever. . . A senior friend . .. Arista's Pur-ln, Physics and a dramatic Gottlieb book report. There were free periods and schmooz sessions, no homework and shining eyes. And even now all this is in the past. It is no more. Every speech tells you that graduation is a beginning. But when you look around you know it's really an end. Forever gone is a beautiful part of our lives. You stretch out your hand to call it backg to once more feel the warmth--and it's gone. You smile at a friend as if to say: Thanks for the memories. You shed a tear for some- thing that was very special. Never to be captured again.