Newspaper Page Text
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The Panther
March-April, 1947
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CLARK COLLEGE
PANTHER
" The Significance
of Youth
ON THE BOOKSHELVES 00
A Journal of Negro College Life
Published from October to June
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VOICE OF THE
STUDENTS
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MOUTHPIECE OF
THE COLLEGE
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A promoter of school spirit by encouraging projects and efforts
among student groups and individual students.
A medium through which an opportunity is provided for students
to obtain experience in news gathering, reporting, book-reviewing, edi
torial, and creative writing.
An instrument for fostering friendly and constructive criticism
of campus activities.
H. McCAREY KENDALL ’48
Editor-in-Chief
GUYLON SMALL ’48 JAMES E. McCALLUM ’47
Associate Editor Associate Editor
ROLAND HAYNES ’49
News Editor
Maurice Downs ’47 and E. Simpson ’50 Society
June Blanchard ’49 and Lona Brown 50, Emery Wimbish '48 Literary
Agatha Daniel ’49 and E. L. Parker ’48 Feature
Walter Jarnigan ’49 and H. D. Gates ’49 Art
Cecil A. Blye, Helen Nelson ’50 and D. E. Collington JSports
Carriedelle Kynds ’48 and George Waters ’50 —Exchange
Edward W. Symth and H. Royal ’50 Business Managers
Charles Price ’50 - -Advertising Manager
Walter Crawford ’47 _ Circulation Manager
D. Wahington ’48, E. Haynes ’50 Photographers
Barbara Lowery ’49 _ Staff Secretary
Brady Jones 50, Xanthene Sayles ’50, Elizabeth Brown ’50,
Alfonso Levy ’50, Ruth Woodward ’50 Jteporters
Bertha Tarver ’48, Bessie Brown ’47, Katheryn Jones ’47,
Thelma Alman ’49, Louise Harris ’48 - Typists
C. C. Posey and J. F. Summersette Faculty Advisors
A VETERAN SPEAKS
Do not be deluded by the title of this editorial into believing
that this veteran contends that because, by accident, a portion
of our population happened to have served in some branch of the
Armed Forces, they are to be held distinctly apart from the gen
eral populace. Such is not meant there. Rather the veteran is to
be regarded as an integral part of the already existing social
structure. It may be that because of experiences gained through
service in the Armed Forces the veteran’s position of awareness
..might burn at a whiter heat, which makes him more prone to a
more hasty course of action, a greater seriousness of thought, and
to an unusual cognizance of the maladjustments and ills of the
social order whose existence he fought to preserve. The veteran
is not a freak of nature, though often treated as such, and does
not want to be regarded as something special or out of the ordi
nary. That said, let us focus our attention on a question that has
challenged the best minds of the nation and probably the world—
the question of the political muddle and state of corruption in
Georgia.
It is almost incredible that, following in the wake of a war
fought presumably for world democracy and freedom, there should
..arise people who would deny a segment of the population a whole
some participation in the type of government they fought to be
free to construct and preserve. But this is what is happening in
Georgia—in the United States—before the blood of American
soldiers of World War II, spilled in the battle stations of the world
for principles—noble, just, and good—can dry from their boots.
This is what is happening to the aspirations of thousands of
Negroes in the state of Georgia because its legislators are boldly
and wickedly attempting to enact laws expressly designed to pre
vent their exercising constitutional rights and duties—particu
larly the right to vote.
And why? Because they have been blinded by the doctrine
of “white supremacy” and fail to see the real issues involved.
These tobacco chewing and Negro hating legislators line the halls
and fill the benches of the Georgia General Assembly because they
have been elected by persons blinded to the real issues—persons
blinded by prejudice and bigotry. Neither the legislators nor the
constituents can see that the legislation that they seek to enact
will inevitably not only take the bread out of the mouth of the
Negro but out of their own mouths as well.
What then are the real issues? Not white supremacy which
is only a shield purposely intended to arouse these irrational peo
ple as the red flag infuriates the bull, who does have an excuse
since he was not given a brain to use. The real issue is big busi
ness. The big business interest of Georgia has been intent upon
keeping before the face of the Georgia cracker this curtain of
prejudice and bigotry—white supremacy—in order to camouflage
their own selfish interests, to camouflage “big business suprem
acy.” One has only to look closely at the type of legislation now
being passed by the General Assembly to understand that the
whole endeavor of big business is to maintain a favorable com
mand over cheap labor. This, however, they cannot reveal. They
cover the whole issue and rally thousands of poor whites, who
are poor because they made and are keeping them so, to their
“cause” by showing them imagined threats of the Negro with
the ballot—Negro and white intermarriage, Negro public office
holding (as if that were a crime), Negro competition in jobs, and
Negroes going to schools with their children. What the poor,
ignorant, tobacco chewing, half starved, ragged crackers fail to
see is that they have more in common with the poorer Negro
than with the sons and daughters of the Candlers, the Arkwrights,
and the Allens. These stupefied creatures cannot see that they
are half starved, ragged, poorly housed, poorly trained, poorly
paid, and at the bottom of the economic heap for the same reason
that the Negro is there. Were he not so blinded by “white su
premacy” he could see that by taking his black friend by the hand
and working together with him they could both be raised from the
terrible fate of economic suppression and oppression. But the fact
Citizenship Week
During the fall and winter of 1945
several youth groups who met in the
canteen and club rooms of the Butler
Street Y. M. C. A. began to think in
terms of the problems that youth are
confronted with in their quest for
greater participation in our democ
racy and for the development of a
well-rounded life. Many conferences
were held, discussion groups were
conducted. Out of these came a pro
gram which has as its purpose, not
only the advocation to the youth of
Atlanta of their inalienable rights as
members of a democratic society, but
of their responsibilities as citizens of
the community.
Fifty-five thousand Negro youth
are struggling to adjust themselves
to the many problems that beset
them in their quest for security, hap
piness and full membership in the
family of community citizens. Youth
Citizenship Week has been designed
in the midst of unfavorable situations
to create within youth visions of new
horozons that will enable them to
take their places as responsible citi
zens of the community.
By citizenship we mean full parti-
pation in every sense of the word.
To be sure, the word has a charming
sound, but the sound of the term must
not blind us to the full sense con
veyed by the term—tis rights and
citizeship which tool long has been
our lot. Such half-way measures
have no place in America. Youth
Citizenship Week proposes to awaken
an awareness on the part of Ameri
can Negro youth and to shape the
thoughts of youth on citizenship.
Surely there can be no greater and
inspiring challenge expressed relative
to the topic than that expressed by
Sterling Brown’s “Strong Men.” The
lifelong struggle that has greatly
conditioned the life of the Negro and
his determination is deeply portrayed
in his poem:
The strong'men keep a-comin’ on,
The strong men keep, a-comin’ ’on,
The strong men keep a-comin’ on,
The strong men keep a-comin’ on,
The strong men git stronger.
The strong men git stronger.
The strong men git stronger.
The strong men git stronger.
The strong men . . . coming on
The strong men gittin’ stronger.
Strong men . . .
Stronger . . .
—ROLAND HAYNES.
CLARK OCTET RETURN FROM
EASTERN TOUR
(Continued from Page One)
membership of Mrs. Henry Phieffer,
the one great soul who has done so
much for the unveiling of ignorance
from the eyes of youth, irrespective
of race.
As a special outlet for the mem
bers who composed the group, the
New York Clark Club with the Rev.
Joshua Licorice as president made it
impossible for the concert group to
tour Rocketta Center and other in
teresting places.
Members composing the group were
the following: Basses: Anderson Bry
ant, senior; Thomas Grissom, Jr.,
Jules Conway, freshman; Baritones:
Borah Walton, sophomore; first
tenors: Louis Brown, Joseph Steven
son.
Words of gratitude and thankful
ness must be given to Prof. J. De-
Koven Killingsworth, head of the
Clark College Department of Music,
for the skillful training which he has
executed in preparation for the Clark
College Octet’s appearance. Certain
ly without artistic, tireless guidance
as a reputable musician, Clark Col
lege’s Music Department could not
have developed into what it is today.
Hello, there. While browsing around
the library shelves this past month,
I’m sure you’ve noticed the very in
teresting display of recent books.
This month’s column will feature the
best of these. Incidentally, they are
all books by young authors—should
be inspiring to the creative writers
among us.
First, there’s “The Street”—“-the
starkly realistic novel that won for
its author, Ann ePtry, the Literary
Fellowship. It’s a story of a young
Negro girl, Ludie, and her futile
struggle against the destroying and
crushing influence of the “Street” in
a New York ghetto. It’s so intensely
human that you’ll find yourself hat
ing the “Street” and its inevitable
ruin for the people who inhabit it.
“Shakespeare in Harlem” is not
only one of the best introductions to
Langston Hughes but an appropriate
description of the author. It is
marked by the same pervasive feeling
for his fellows, the same infectious
music, and the same admixture of
laughter and tears as his other vol
umes. Read it and laugh and cry,
become embittered then heartened by
this profound and incisive book. It’s
modern and intensely human poetry—
no need for a glossary or a dictionary
of classical allusions, for Hughes’
dictionary is life.
I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of talk
about a new era—a coming era. Don’t
Book Review
THE SNAKE PIT
By Mary Jane Ward. 278 pp.
New York: Random House
The Snake Pit is a brilliant and
uncompromising picture of life in a
mental hospital. It is the story of a
girl who lost her mind—and found it.
Virginia Cunningham, the heroine,
had been a good novelist.' She had
moved with her husband from the se
curity of a small mid-western town to
New York City where their savings
rapidly dwindled. Long and stren
uous hours of concentrated effort on
her new novel, supplemented by anx
iety to alleviate financial insecurity
precipitated a complete nervous
breakdown. One day she simply
blacked out, and for months after
wards was only at intervals conscious
of who or where she was. It is these
periods of comparative sanity which
she recalls in this realistic account.
When she is first conscious of being
in Juniper Hill, the memory of her
immediate past is blank and her rea
soning processes are slow and wan
dering. She believes that she is in a
prison as a voluntary observer and
that her husband, Robert, must have
urged her to write a novel on prison
life, but how and when she does not
know. Tragically she comes to the
realization that she is not in a prison,
nor is she an observer. She knows
that something is wrong with her
head, an dthat Juniper Hill is an in
stitution for those who are mentally
ill.
With wit, charm, and keen obser
vation, Miss Ward vividly and super
bly enables the reader to live with
Virginia through every conceivable
experience in such an institution. We
share her helplessness under its iron
discipline; we share her horror and
fear when subjected to the antics of
the more violent inmates; we share
dread of the “tubs” and shock thera
py. But there are other times when
we feel with her the blessed refuge
of Juniper Hill—a refuge from a life
too complex for a sick mind to face.
The tope of the book is not totally
depressing or dreadful as many read
ers might expect. Although sometimes
it is heartrending, it is lightened by
frequent touches of humor and wit,
you feel that you should know more
about it? Roi Ottley’s “New World
A’Comin’ ” and Walter White’s “A
Rising Wind” furnish some of the
best formulated material on this sub
ject. - The style of Ottley’s book is
rather racy and informal—easy but
absorbing reading.
For you racially alert readers (and
this includes everyone, I hope), here
is a book that is a. “must” on your
list. It’s Dorothy W. Baruch’s “Glass
House of Prejudice,” a hard-hitting
book describing the results and causes
of prejudice toward minority groups
in the United States. It explains
with clarity and force the effects of
prejudice both on the people toward
whom it is felt and on the people
who feel it. Read it—think on it£—
and join the ranks of people who
want a working democracy.
Here’s a book of poetry that will
never grow old—in fact its post
humous popularity is one of life’s lit
tle ironies. It’s Walt Whitman’s
“Leaves of Grass.” Once you begin
to get the feel for Whitman, you’ll
not leave this book that terrified,
shocked, and infuriated nineteenth
century prudes. Such poems as the
pulsating “Song of Myself” will come
to you long after you’ve read it.
Well, it’s time to go already.
Goodbye and Good Reading.
JUNE MARIE BLANCHARD, ’49.
which are always sympathetic, but
never cruel. Nor does Miss Ward’s
account ever assume the tone of a
case history or scientific study. It
stands the test of the good novel in
which we find the intensely human,
the individual, the incongruous, the
sympathetic and the antipathetic.
We anxiously follow the story of
the brilliant, likable, over-strained and
broken heroine from her first light of
self-memory to complete recovery and
a rediscovered world.
RIME AND REASON
LIFE
What difference is life to the world—
What difference does it make if life be
rich or poor,
For life is but a one inch piece of
wood
Floating upon the world of oceans.
Matter it not if the wood be pine,
Matter it not if the wood be oak,
It matters not for in a given time
They alike will fade away—
Lost upon the oceans of the world
Never to float again.
So let the pine keep on its course
So let the oak ride the wave and the
wind
It matters not—
For soon they will be lost in oceans
of the world.
J. Brown
TO THE COMMON MAN
Why was I meant to exist here under
the sky
And know nothing but toil and
trouble,
Always—until I die?
Why was it meant that I have hard
ships and setbacks—
To suffer?
Could it not have been as easy for
me to live like a king?
Cease to fret, comrades; you live a
glorious life.
For each battle you win, for each
hardship
You overcome — in your crown in
heaven, another star is placed.
“A man at leisure”—that’s no com
pliment;
An insult it should be.
For someone else will say, “A shift
less one is he.”
Arise, comrade, there is work to do—
The eternal fate of nations depends
much upon you.
J. McCallan
COMPARISON
Today I saw two passers-by
Pause near a budding rose;
The one saw only ugly thorns,
And spoke of mending has* *.
The other with ecstatic joy
Breathed deep the fragrance rare,
Saw only velvet-petalled buds—
Of thorns, quite unaware.
remains that they cannot see. They must, therefore, fall prey to
the beast of their own creation and "perpetuation—big business.
But it is ont a hopeless case or a battle entirely lost for the
Negro. Let us respond, reminiscent of James W. Johnson when he
said that we will not let one prejudiced person, one hundred or
million blight our lives; we will not let prejudice or any of its
attendant humiliations bear us down to spiritual defeat; our inner
lives are ours and we shall defend its integrity against all the
powers of hell.
Julius Daugherty