Back in time with the Concordiensis
Compiled by: Dylan Breslin-Barnhart
Issue date: 4/27/06 Section: News
The following editorial appeared in the Concordiensis on September 18, 1916, welcoming the freshman class of 1920 to Union and does not necessarily represent the views of the current Concordiensis staff:
Now is the time when every good collegiate editor rings the bell with a few snappy words of welcome to the newest class. Let me see-the Class of Nineteen-Twenty, to be sure.
The good collegiate editor begins with remarks about that paradox of the autumnal leaf, sere and yellow, and the springtime of youth, green and pink. He concludes by pulling out the tremolo stop: A little vignette of the sweet homestead tucked away in a peaceful valley, shaded with apple trees-young Ebenezer Homespun, the only child of his devoted mother, stands on the doorsill. He is Going To College. He has felt the alluring of the Higher Authority. He has heard the siren voice of the World. After one last affectionate clinch, he steers his o'sullivans down the lane. The whistle of the train rings in his mother's ears for several hours. Ebenezer reckons that no one will haze him, not much, by clover.
Then the good collegiate editor rolls out the diapason. Beware of the temptations of the wicked city, don't be led astray by virulent sophomores, put first things first, and comb your hair every morning.
But this is no time for idle levity. You are here, [class of] Nineteen-Twenty, of your own free will. You must realize yourself, and know that you are the most important thing there is. Without you there wouldn't be any college. Caesar was a freshman once, and in due course of time you may all be Caesars.
The next thing to realize after you have realized your importance-which is no joke-is to remember that you are a Necessary Evil. And that is just a little bit worse than an unnecessary evil. You're here, and you've got to put up with yourselves and us, just as we have to put up with you. You will undoubtedly grow in grace, so that four years from now you can be just as pompous and overbearing and caviling as we are now. And at that time you will realize better than ever before just how awful freshman are, and just how necessary they are, and just how much you've learned.
Now is the time when every good collegiate editor rings the bell with a few snappy words of welcome to the newest class. Let me see-the Class of Nineteen-Twenty, to be sure.
The good collegiate editor begins with remarks about that paradox of the autumnal leaf, sere and yellow, and the springtime of youth, green and pink. He concludes by pulling out the tremolo stop: A little vignette of the sweet homestead tucked away in a peaceful valley, shaded with apple trees-young Ebenezer Homespun, the only child of his devoted mother, stands on the doorsill. He is Going To College. He has felt the alluring of the Higher Authority. He has heard the siren voice of the World. After one last affectionate clinch, he steers his o'sullivans down the lane. The whistle of the train rings in his mother's ears for several hours. Ebenezer reckons that no one will haze him, not much, by clover.
Then the good collegiate editor rolls out the diapason. Beware of the temptations of the wicked city, don't be led astray by virulent sophomores, put first things first, and comb your hair every morning.
But this is no time for idle levity. You are here, [class of] Nineteen-Twenty, of your own free will. You must realize yourself, and know that you are the most important thing there is. Without you there wouldn't be any college. Caesar was a freshman once, and in due course of time you may all be Caesars.
The next thing to realize after you have realized your importance-which is no joke-is to remember that you are a Necessary Evil. And that is just a little bit worse than an unnecessary evil. You're here, and you've got to put up with yourselves and us, just as we have to put up with you. You will undoubtedly grow in grace, so that four years from now you can be just as pompous and overbearing and caviling as we are now. And at that time you will realize better than ever before just how awful freshman are, and just how necessary they are, and just how much you've learned.
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