For the average Laneite, graduation from high school marks the end of a
formal educational career. During the greater part of his life, he has
been attending schools, learning things that will help him to become a
liner, abler individual, better qualified to take his place in modern
society. Not only did the traditional academic subjects give him this
knowledge, but the social activities that the school sponsors - athletics,
clubs, and dances - teaching community cooperation and responsibility.
These are the things that will remain valuable about our stay at Lane.
Imagine it's June, 1978. You're sitting alone by
a window - nobody's home to disturb
you. Through the window you see children playing, maybe your own,
highschoolers gossiping in little groups-and it's the month of graduation.
You're reminiscing-what did you do in 1953, the year of your graduation
from Lane? Well, there was...
G. 0. ELECTION
Of course you knew all about elections - posters, speeches, voting - but
somehow, it was quite a new kind of thrill, nationalistic, you might call
it, to see your own school host to the ballyhoo of a real election
campaign. Such craning of necks toward the ceding to read the gaily
dancing signs - "Joey 4 Pres.," "Elaine for Veep," and
then crossing of eyes in order to read the posters on both sides of the
hall at once. And then, the speeches - and the promises - yes, you can smoke
in school, there will be a clock in the tower, girls, you will get
new bathing suits (just like the old ones, they forgot to mention), there
must be a jukebox in the cafeteria, it's good for the digestion - etc.,
etc., etc. Funny thing - one of the promises did come true -the bathing
suits . . . they were bought before the election!!
Remember our first swimming class? How frightened we were of that
seemingly bottomless chlorinated green ocean! - until somebody pushed us
in and we discovered that it was possible to stand up (in the four-foot
end, of course!). After being marshaled into straight lines on the sides
of the pool we "learned" how to breathe - head under, bubble,
up, under, bubble . . . just like the fish
that a few terms of swimming were supposed to turn us into. And
what a picture we must have made,
staggering out with hair soaking wet, and stringier and straighter than we
knew it could be!
"Gosh - you can hardly see
from one end of it to the other!" A typical gasp from a Lane freshman
- you probably said it yourself once. The cafeteria was the unofficial
haven for all Laneites suffering from hunger, fatigue, school fever, or
just a case of having to get next period's homework done before the bell
rang. What rivalry to get on the front of the line - and then the "lucky"
one who did was charged with a half a dozen other orders from everybody
else sitting at his table! And the teachers on guard duty watched with
such gimlit eyes to see that the crumbs were cleaned up and nobody threw
milk into the wastebasket!
Sitting in the official room, a little awed by your new status as a HIGH
SCHOOL student, you stared at your stiff, new S.S. card and chewed the
remains of your fingernails, trying to figure out how to get from one
room to another, when ... DONG, DING, DONG. You jerked to attention and
pricked up your ears wondering who had had the nerve to tune in NBC.
"Attention, attention everybody please," sonorously intoned a
voice from an indeterminate direction. Somebody whispered excitedly,
"that must be the public address system. Look at the box in the front
of the room. Just like a railroad station!" Humble before the
superior knowledge of another neophyte, you listened in reverence to
special announcements, much more important than anything else in the
world, and to welcoming speeches by the school's faculty and
administrative staff. And at his desk, the teacher grinned so indulgently
at you, knowing everything you were thinking, and not believing a word of