Sitaram
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College Life in 1967I was a student at St. John's, Annapolis when the very first February Freshman class started, around '68 or '69 (I believe it was in the month of February.)
I don't remember much hoopla or discussion about the program among my fellow students.
One day, there they were, a number of brand new Freshmen.
So, the February Freshman program is being discontinued after 40 years.
I am curious to know why. I wonder if the discontinuation is symptomatic of anything.
My Freshman year was a magical time for me.
I suppose I should emphasize that I was not a February Freshman, but arrived in September.
I was terrified that I would not be able to succeed in the program.
During my Freshman year, I tried to study all the time. I form any sort of romantic relationship, or even casually date. I had a girlfriend from high school, and I had this idea that I would remain faithful to her. She and I dated the following summer, but then drifted apart.
On my first day, during Freshman registration, a very pretty girl, a total stranger, made a point of coming towards me from a great distance. She walked up to me and said "I am glad you came." I was quite perplexed why this total stranger should go out of her way to approach me and say such a thing. I replied as much, saying "You don't even know me! Why should you be glad? What you say makes no sense." I remember feeling startled and somewhat offended. Years later, I thought about the incident and realized it was possibly an attempt at flirtation. Had I taken her seriously, and flirted back, nothing would have come of it, except disappointment for me.
I just wasn't thinking about such things as romance. I was worried about making some kind of academic progress. I wasn't at all sure that I could learn ancient Greek. I had always felt intimidated by any sort of mathematics. Plato and Homer and Aristotle were so new to me.
I was totally unaware during those first weeks that many of my fellow students were going wild during the first week or two with regard to romantic exploits.
After several weeks, a very interesting Freshman, a man older than the rest of us, George Rowbottom, came up to me and said "we are all wondering if you are a eunuch." He seemed quite incredulous.
I had not realized that my celibacy was the topic of anyone's conversation.
You might feel that I am digressing from the topic of February Freshmen with this reverie.
I would like to make several points, which I feel are pertinent. Firstly, whenever a new body of young and inexperienced students enters a school, they are ripe for exploitation. They may exploit themselves with overindulgence, intoxicated by a new-found freedom. They may be exploited by others, older and more experienced, who can be quite predatory and seductive. Loneliness can make people vulnerable.
When the February Freshmen arrived, some of them teens out of high school, and others, much older, there was suddenly a fresh crop of naivete, ripe for exploitation.
Perhaps things are much different now than back in the 60s, an era of new found sexual freedom.
I do not think I missed anything by being so serious and celibate during my Freshman year. I know that I was able to learn a lot of Greek and Euclid.
The word school comes, so I am told, from the Greek word for leisure (sxole). Certainly one needs leisure to study. It is hard to discipline oneself and handle a lot of freedom at a young age.
Each Friday, in my Freshman year, I had only class in the morning, and then I was free for the rest of the day. I dutifully marched to the laundromat which was across the street from The Little Campus restaurant. While my laundry was washing and drying, I did my shopping for groceries and sundries. I ate in the dining hall, but kept food in my room for late night snacks, or times when I did not feel like going to the dining hall.
Dean Keefer addressed the student body in the auditorium, and used the expression 'Life subordinated to study'. I wrote those words on a piece of cardboard and hung it on my wall.
My ascetical discipline lasted until Spring. One Sunday, I had studied all day long, and was totally prepared for classes and seminar. I went to sleep at 11pm. At midnight, the bell began to ring at McDowell Hall. I was living on the 4th floor of East Pinkney. I came out in the hall and asked what was going on. I was informed that this was the traditional senior prank night. I realized that sleep would not be possible. I joined another freshman in his room and each drank half a bottle of Irish whiskey. The Seniors gathered about a bonfire in the quadrangle. They would throw scraps of their notes into the fire left over from work on their Senior Theses. One fellow picked up a scrap of paper from the ground and read aloud, 'Plato has some interesting things to say about Virtue'. Everyone laughed. The prank that night was to hoist spare tires onto the flag pole by some fiendishly ingenious method which was never explained to me. I was still giddy and intoxicated the next morning when I attended my classes. That afternoon I had the most dreadful hang-over headache.
Oh, and by they way, from 67 to 71 I never once saw anyone play croquette. In fact, I never even heard the word mentioned. Now, I am told it is an ancient and time honored tradition.
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