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That Time Again
lt’s about that time again wrist watches and caps
and gowns. Friday, August 21 will again find the (ieorgia
campus in the throes of connncnceincnt, as the last install
ment, of thp Class of ‘(it treads the path from diploma to
the adult world.
Four hundred and thirty-seven seniors will he joining
the ranks of American graduates already numbering
r>!l7,(MK). This summer's class, representing a 17 per cent
increase over that of August 196I1, will assemble together
for the last time with beaming faces, tense with expecta
tion, and suddenly will disperse in a solemn manner not at
all reminiscent of its freshman days.
Yet before the diplomas come the speeches. In scholarly
succession, the nation's orators will unveil their sales
pitch and fairy tales. They will joyfully proclaim, “This
nation needs you! Today you goeth forth, the leaders of
tomorrow!” Kaeh senior will patiently digest each wise
morsel, truly convinced of the unique excellence of this
flag-waving speech and earnestly trying to commit to
memory the more poetic passages.
But elsewhere across this country, our nation's leaders.
Attorney General Kennedy, Ambassador Stevenson, Sar
gent Xhriver, and Dean Busk, amidst others, have been
delivering commencement speeches of a sombre tone.
Where years ago the theme would have been “Today’s
graduates are leaders of tomorrow so stop swallowing
goldfish!", today the emphasis is on conflict. Today we
are looking for great minds who are also capable of feel
ing and acting justly. Our nation is no longer judged by
its realm of influence, but by its capacity for and commit
ment to justice. Our face upon the world is blemished by
the face of our backyards.
The message for today's graduates is one of despairing
entreatment. We should be concentrating on social jus
tice. harmony in life, and the concern and drive to create
the peaceful existence of a quickly shrinking world.
Today's graduates will not be showered with saccharine
speeches which sweetly dissolve in applause. They will
not be patted on the hack and sent off with n grin un
realistically into a painfully realistic world. These adults
will be solemnly awarded a challenge—that today’s com
puters and machines are not enough for this life. The
artistic ingredient of individual creativity and humanity,
even with its fallibility, must be expressed in life.
No longer are these fresh products of college to be
coddled into adjusting to the brutalities of life. Today, as
never before. Youth will truly Serve!
(Tlir i'.rb and Uldcb
Fxl lame
Business Manager
IVin Nichols
Editor
IHiuinc Martin)
Associate Editor
Volume I,X XIII Number 0
Published weekly at the University of Georgia, Athena. Ga.
Katered at the Post Office In Athena. Georgia aa Mail Mat
ter of the ttcroad Class. Subscription rates: $S.SO ft rat year,
98 renewal.
DON NICHOLS
Reminiscent Ramblings
In this short period of nine weeks, and at summer
school at that, i have seen more, heard more, and encount
ered more national anti international news than do many
college newspaper editors during the course of an entire
year.
The strife in Viet Nam is without a doubt at the top of
the international list of news. Most recently, people all
over the world have turned their heads toward the embat
tled island of Cyprus, another international hot-spot. It
is without question that, the world is nestled about a pow
der keg ably ready to explode at the twitch of a finger.
But fear not Americans. We will be saved—that is if
the scientists will hurry und perfect the moon flights. This
too was another chapter added to the international book
of history during the nine short weeks of summer school
1964. Scientists and staff members responsible for the out
standing accomplishment certainly deserve a pat on the
back for a job well done. This is one chapter of our inter
national history hook that will be printed red and blue
on white pages.
On the home front (and the term is applicable) we
have witnessed a ‘race’ for FREEDOM, LIBERTY, JUS
TICE, EQUALITY, and CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS
that has forced the federal government to take “certain
steps.” It seems rather unjust for the federal government
to take the inalienable rights granted by the Constitution
and proceed with a game of racial ping pong using those
rights as a ball. For when any agency, federal or other-
wist*, orders a white man’s private business to accept a
black man’s personal trade, against cither’s wishes, it is
time we face up to the fact that America is drenched with
socialism rather than democracy. The federal government
has become tlu* Robin Hood of modern America.
Maybe that would have been the preface to that parti
cular chapter of our 1964 summer history book. Who
knows T
Another chapter might well be the Republican Presi
dential Candidate Barry Goldwater. Ah yes, what a chap
ter that would make. ‘AuII'O’ is somewhat liberal-mind
ed gentleman who has been accused of being trigger-hap
py. At least he’s happy. Maybe he is just what the United
States needs about now. It is encouraging to know that
HE will do SOMETHING.
But then Georgia has a long and proud heritage. It is
the only state in the nation with a monopoly on the last
row of seats at the Republican Convention. How proud
people must be to say that they have voted Democratic in
the last 17 elections, i often wonder if they really know
who the candidates were and what they were running
from.
As for me, i believe i’ll vote for the man who i think will
do the best job for me and my country rather than voting
for him because he is a Democrat or a Republican.
Locally the Klansmen seem to have taken the show, i
suppose they figure someone with ‘authority’ has to keep
things in line around here. Questionable, i agree.
But pray let us not linger on the ramblings of the
nine-week history book that everyone has read and for
mulated an opinion about.
My job now, like so many others who have had the
opportunity to edit The Red and Black before me, is
to write a farewell column expressing my inner-most
feelings about the knocks and bruises suffered during the
quarter.
With it, a few words of wisdom are generally in order
with most editors. My (for a lack of better term) words
of wisdom have preceded in thoughts for reader ponder-
ence. Words of wisdom were fashioned to be expressed
by parents.
The pressures of deadlines, the worries of circulation,
broken typewriters, late photo engravings, and late hours
will now be terminated. As i sit in the empty newsroom,
typewriters, save mine, have ceased to chatter. No more
cursing about a headline that is too long or a wrong
key punched on the keyboard.
But with this void, the smiles are gone. The laughing
has stopped. The jokes are no more. A newspaper has
gone to bed and the newsroom dims its lights . . . Another
chapter in The Red and Black history book has been
written ... A giant sleeps . . . Memories do not.
DIANNE MARTINY
Not With A Bang
But A Wimper
The end is near. Editorials dwell on commencement
thoughts, editors say their farewells with swollen eyes—
not with tears but with deadline fatigue—and the regis
trar closes his books on another chapter in Georgia’s
quaint history.
Somewhere a class graduates, and countless others rise
another notch on the academic ladder. Textbooks are
cashed in at sacrificing prices, and the library sighs with
relief. A few thousand more beings have been shovelled
through the academic process.
And what emerges? Hopefully a class of enlightened
humans. Students will quickly forget their mail box com
binations. the money squandered on traffic tickets, and
the “blind dates” who left blank calling cards. Forgotten
also will be the answers to the Constitution exam, the
Bermuda shorts grievances, and the phone numbers for
('reswell Hall.
Students, whether they be graduates or second quarter
freshmen, will be leaving the scholarly confines of Athens
to return to the real world outside. Bearing the burden of
representing their alma mater, these scholars will be
welcomed into the adult society with many roles.
Perhaps youth is our nation’s most important product.
Without procreation and lines of generations, there is no
nation. But the wonder of our way of life is that so much
emphasis is placed upon the health, wealth and value of
youth. Consider the quantities of vitamin pills and Dr.
Spock child-psychology books sold. Consider the extraor
dinary amount of funds spent on child and teen welfare.
Just think how much Georgia’s tax payers dole out to
support this university. Isn’t life wonderful?
So that leaves us with one idea. We are important! We
are in the spotlight. Like one great parent, the nation
cries with us when we are delinquent, and claps for us
when we join the Peace Corps. If ever one nation put all
its eggs in one basket, the United States has spoiled its
offspring. These days you just GO to college—well, most
of us. Examine the attention we youths receive. State
policemen are extra-specially protecting us, state funds
allow us to better ourselves through education, and there
fore pay higher taxes, and our mental state is tenderly at
tended by numerous guidance clinics.
Are we the “Pampered Generation” ? Herein lies another
American fondness—classification. This is normal; that
is neurotic. This is a daisy; that is a pansy. As far as the
golden-gloved college boy is concerned, historians, philos
ophers and sociologists have for many years been obsessed
with classifying him also. We have in the past been
showered with the “Silent, Beat, Hip, Flapper, and Lost
Generations.” Today’s enigma is today—what are We?
The identity of today is not crystal-clear. We have our
pseudos, kudos, and kiddos. Some kinds are intense, some
just autistic. Tall ones, small ones, robust, and “carpen
ters’ delight”—these are the young adults of 1964. Where
lias it all taken us? We have arrived at the point where
even our speech is bogged down with qualifiers—” . . .
this girl in my class who’s a Negro . . .” or “ .. . you know
what I mean, like a guy that’s covered with tattoos”. We
are a nation of orderly people—with a place for every
thing. and we make sure everything is put in its place.
Yet this is not the American Ideal! We, who have al
ways been the world’s most luxurious and colorful melt
ing pot (or better, mixing bowl?), are being uprooted by
this admirable hterogeneitv. Upward mobility has always
been fine, but now it’s sideways mobility, right into our
backyards.
These comments have been rather rambling. But if we
young people are so worthy of attention, we must be capa
ble of rambling. Thinkers will never be replaced. Growth
will never emerge out of stagnation. To rest is to exist. To
risk is to live.
So now we go forth—be it for a month, or a life time.
As we leave these walls of ivy and towers of ivy, let us
remember that the gift of life was ours. Remember that
the words of commencement speakers will soon fade from
our ears. Remember to remember.
Our nation is banking on us. No longer will youth be
served, but Youth Will Serve!