Somewhere there are great teachers . . . There are thinkers who can do much to foster progress, and encourage freedom in thought, and sew the seeds of reform and individualism upon which this nation was founded; There are experienced craftsmen who can teach by practice as well as by theory, who can teach the use of the hands and mechanics as well as use of the texts and files. But the administrators will not choose them They will choose the good students, the people who have great powers of memory, of reading the texts, of fulfilling the requirements and getting degrees; They will choose those who are backed by politics, who will stand in line and be regimented and fear for their jobs and will teach only the "Safe and Sane" doctrines. mimicry, merits, two-for-a-knickel PHD's, Victorianism, suppression, and the truth shall make ye free, and fear and docility and politics... And these are our trained professors; And these are our educators... Somewhere there are unlimited opportunities There are the unexplored realms of science, and the needs for social reform and better government; developments in medicine and law and the professions; There is the crying need for aesthetes: artists and poets and composers, idealists to make the world a better place in which to live, to rid us of our cynicism. But they will not prepare themselves . . . They will pursue courses for which they are unfit; they will learn smatterings of biology and French and other things which are useless because of their brevity; They will become resigned and afraid and indifferent because of economic ills; they will graduate and shout "What's to happen to us; we can't get a job!" cowardice, maladjustment, shoe salesmen at $16 a week, indifference, resignation, apathy, "What price WPA!", youth of America... And these are our future citizens; And this is educational training... Page 4 Somewhere there is a solution...we are not lost There is courage and initiative to tackle the problem and work it out; there is the spirit of rebellion which is the American tradition; There is the joy of casting off the shroud and freeing the intellect from fear and hypocrisy and the narrow grooves of inherited custom. But we will not see it . . . We will sit dawdling over our teacups and rant and rail at the New Deal and how we would run the government; and laugh at the funnypapers; We will play bridge and gossip in smokefilled rooms and sweat off our abdomens in Turkish baths; movies, Benny Goodman, click of the ticker tape. senuousness and cynicism, muscles and favoritism, regimentation and mimicry, unpreparedness and cowardice, Unshackled America... And this is life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; And this is education ... To a Friend by Maurine Porter ...God sent me to you. With grieving eyes... He looked down from the skies, And saw my failing; My futile struggles against faults New wrongs entailing; My brain chaotic With bleak doubts' assailing... And so he sent me to you. ...For still he loved me. Despite my falseness... My heart had oft to him In trust confided; And in my life A dormant faith abided; So he, with tenderest love, My weakness chided And sent me to you! ...You were his refuge for me He made you strong, And filled your life with good That would not perish A girl of purity, Such wondrous soul Needs nothing more to garnish, And made it radiant. ...Compassionate, God led. In matchless mercy... He brought me in your way To be enlightened, And now my chastened soul By your life brightened, Thanks God that he with care My loose reins tightened... And sent me to you. for Autumn Page 5