Newspapers / Fayetteville State University Student … / Jan. 1, 1955, edition 1 / Page 3
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JANUARY, 1955 THE VOICE PAGE THREE First Annual 'Voice' Contest Winning Articles Prose GRANDMA Memory of my childhood often provides me with many hours of joy; yet, I know that most of it is because of my dear old Grandma. She was not too large, and there was nothing about her appearance that made her outstanding. I sup pose to outsiders she seemed an ordinary person, but I know dif ferent. To me her memory will always be a source of delight. My brother, sister, and I had lived with her, on a little country farm since I was two years old. The little white cottage that we lived in was kept neat and clean, and there was always a pleasing aroma of some delicious food coming from within it. Grandma was stern in her ways and teachings and was as old- fashioned as anyone you’ll ever see. I never shall forget her violent reactions to the sight of a drunk ard. One day Cousin John, Grand ma’s nephew, came to our peace ful little house. He had been drinking, and Grandma promptly ordered him off asking him never to return in that condition. “Do you know who I am?” he asked. “I’m John Carter, and this is my sister’s house. I’ll stay here as long as I want to, and if anybody gets off it will be you.” “I don’t care whose house this is; you’ll get and get now. I’m not going to have no drunken biim hanging around here. I was here before,” was her angry reply. He went. You see, at this particular time Grandma weighed about two hun dred pounds, and when she started throwing her weight around it could be mighty convincing. If questioned about what she meant by “I was here before,” Grandma would say angrily, “Before he was bom, and I’ll not have no young- un’ telling me what to do. I don’t care if he’s the president’s child!” In spite of this, everybody, color ed and white, loved and respected Grandma. For one not to go to church was as big a crime as murder to her. She went to church and expected everybody else to do so too. Every third Sunday in every month the preacher would eat dinner at our house. On these days we would have to be extra nice, or that night we would get a good switching. Rev. Smith, our pastor at this time, would always bring a crowd of other preachers with him. (He had a bad car, and it had no special time or place to knock off). You can imagine how impatient children are to eat, and we were no exception. It seemed as if these men would get to our table and eat the longest! Occasionally, one of us would stick his head in the door to see how near through eating they were. When one of us did this. Grandma would give this person a “bad eye” and no one would do that again. At this time our house didn’t have screens at the doors or windows, and one of us would have to get a limb off one of the trees in the yard and fan the flies away from the table. I always hated this job, for it was such an effort for me to resist the tempting food. After what seem ed an eternity, they, the preachers, would get up from the table and we could eat. The main dish at our house on Sundays, as in most country homes, was chicken— fried, baked, or boiled with dump- Poetry This Thing Called Integration What is this thing called integration? Is it reality, a thought, or imagination? Some say it’s a fallacy, or an ideal. Others say it’s a possibility soon made real. Yet, all say it’s a high price to pay. Particularly for the Negro to win his way. What is tnis th ?-g called integration? Is it reality, a tnvUght, or imagination? What is this thing called integration? An act, a show, or a great sensation? The Supreme Court upheld it proudly! But the Dixiecrats shouted long and loudly, “The Negro has no right i n our schools. We want equality, not to study with fools!” Louder and longer they protested, ‘•Put them with us and we’ll be more congested!” What is this thing called integration? An act, a show, or a great sensation? What is this t hing called integration? The truth, a fact, or a connotation? It frightened some Southern Negro teachers. Stirred up some housewives, clergymen, and preachers. Although many gained strength and confidence, Governors, in some states, swore it was a jinx. But all knew that such was near at hand. It had been proclaimed throughout the land. What is this thing called integration? The truth, a fact, or a connotation? What is this thing called integration? A struggle, strife, or mere preparation? For a new and better kind of world. Where no prejudice and hate will hurl? Some say it’s prayer, a cry, a plea In the still night, asking Thee For strength, courage, and might To fight for what’s good and right. What is this thing called integration? A struggle, strife, or mere preparation? What is this thing called integration? A help, an aid, or strong stimulation. Encouraging us to go on to the end Where all are equal, enemy and friend, Where all shall look face to face In competition of rapid pace. Yes, it’s a wide, rough road ahead Where all races and creeds will tread. What is this thing called integration? A help, an aid, or strong stimulation? Integration is none of these Nor pretty flowers or beds of ease. Instead it’s a challenge to you To live, to speak, and do Your best in every undertaking. Go forward, onward, making The best better and great. Start now; tomorrow may be too late. —Ethelyn Holden THE VOICE OFFICIAL PUBLICATION OF THE STUDENT BODY Edited and Published by the Students FAYETTEVILLE STATE TEACHERS COLLEGE Fayetteville, North Carolina STAFF EDITOR Donald Brawner ASSISTANT EDITOR Harriette Lockhart SPORTS EDITOR Herbert Wesley ASSISTANT SPORTS EDITOR Joyce Parker REP. TO THE STUDENT COUNCIL James Paige / ALT. REP. TO THE STUDENT COUNCIL Melba Johnson* BUSINESS MANAGER Mrs. Norvella Whitted TYPIST Clara Lewis ADVISER AND PHOTOGRAPHER Werner L. Jordan Achievement Week Program Sponsored jointly by the Delta Gamma Chapter of Omega on the campus at the Fayetteville State Teachers College and the Beta Chi Chapter, a graduate unit, the an nual Achievement Week program was held on Sunday, Nov. 14, in the school’s new auditorium. In troduced by J. Ervin Farmer, vice basileus of Delta Gamma, Profes sor Lloyd T. Blatch of the De partment of Social Science, spoke from the topic “Implementing In tegration by Understanding and Treating Prejudice.” A special feature of the program was the presentation of plaques to Henry Black, basileus of the Beta Chi Chapter, as Omega “Man of the Year,” and to B. F. Ferguson, local religious and fraternal lead er, as “Citizen of the Year.” The music for tlie exercise was furn ished by the college choir under the direction of Miss Mary E. Ter ry. Officers and members of the Delta Gamma chapter are Charles Allen of Fayetteville, basileus; Er vin Farmer, vice basileus; Earl Garrett, keeper of records and seals; Richard L. Thompson, chap lain and chapter editor; Jesse Gil- lis, keeper of peace; and Andrew Frazier, treasurer. Newly initiat- el members of the group are Leo Dancy, Richard Woods, and Law rence Thompson. The li.'Jt of officers and mem bers of Beta Chi include Henry A. Black, basileus; H. C. Lee, vice basileus; Edward W. Hargrave, keeper of records and seals; H. W. Vick, keeper of peace; R. L. Jen- ings, treasurer; A. L. Scott, chap lain and chapter editor. To complete the roster are Wil liam Hinson, Arthenius Dew, J. E. Anthony, Dr. J. Ward Seabrook, Famed Educator Dr. W. L. Greene in an address at one of the outstanding faculty . social occasions of the fall season stressed the relationship between the local college unit and the state association’s Division of Education and pointed out that the state association can be no strong er than its local units. Too, Dr. Greene emphasized the need for self-evaluation in the areas of moral and spiritual guidance of all members of the institution and ur ged us to assist the students in de veloping their native equipment to its fullest extent without disin tegrating their personalities. The affair, a dinner enhanced bj^ beautiful Christmas decorations was sponsored by the local colleg unit of the North Carolina Teacl: ers Association under the leadei/-- ship of the dynamic newly-electfed 01ivia_ T. Spaulding of the Area of Social Science. Closing remarks were given by Dr. J. W. Seabrook, president of the college, who was the first exe cutive secretary of the NCTA. u.)' ST i Harold L. Scott, Lloyd T. Blatch, R. H. Lewis, Dr. G. W. Allen, Ralph Jordan, J. S. Spivey, Dr. W. C. Melchor, Dr. W. E. Merritt, John W. Parker, L. R. Newberry, Dr. E. J, Gregg, Dr J. D. Douglass and Edward MacRae. lings. However, Dorothy, my sis ter, said she didn’t know until re cently that the chicken had any more to it than the wings, back and neck. Those men had eaten the rest. I can remember hearing Grandma telling the preachers, ‘Eat a plenty, there's more in the pot.” One day Grace, my cousin, was at our house when Grandma told the preachers this. I guess Grace was afraid they were going to eat it all from her for she said, “Grandma, there’s not as much as you think.” Of course, she got a switching. When we would finish eating. Grandma would send us out in the yard to play, for she did not believe in letting children hang around when grown folks were talking. Several times I would sneak back in the house and hear Grandma tellin’ the preach ers, “I’ve got a bunch of younguns to raise for their daddy is dead and their mother is off working. I’m going to do the best I can for them, and they are going to be decent, respectable teachers. I'm not going to let a bunch of drunk en heathens hang around here set ting bad examples for them.” This always brought a chorus of “Mens” or “That’s right, Sister Currie” from her body of listeners. Before 1 started to school I did n’t have many friends for I lived in the country. Yet those I had were always welcome at our house. Grandma would always give us some of her “tea-cakes” which were today’s version of home made cookies. She would let us help her gather eggs, feed the chickens and hogs, and occasion ally help her wash, .^t night when my little friends were gone and my sister and brother were home from school, we would have an old-fashioned spelling bee. While sitting around the blazing fire in the antiquated fireplace, I on her knee and the others sitting on the floor. Grandma would call us her pet words, such as “Mississippi, “comprestibility,” “Missouri and the like. It gave her the greatest joy for one of us to spell these words, and our reward for doing so would be a shiny nickle and five of her tea-cakes. Grandma was poor and we knew it; and we cherished those nickles much more than we do a dollar today. After the spelling bee, she would tell us of her school days. “Schools were few and far between when 1 was coming along, and I had to walk a long ways when I did go,” she would tell us. “We only had three months a term and studied reading, writing, and arithmetic. Some days we would have spelling which I hated. One day I thought I was going to be smart, and that night I studied the word I thought the teacher was going to call me. Teachers then were strict and kept a hickory stick near to punish naughty children and those who didn’t know their lessons. You can imagine my disappointment when my teacher started at the bottom of the spelling list that day.” “Oh Grandma! - What happened?” one of us would ask with our eyes bulging with fear and our bodies fidgeting in terrible suspense. “Just 25 licks with the hickory,” she would say—so unconcerned we would forget the horror of even that many licks and sigh in relief. The dramatic story ended, she would give us our lesson for suc cess. “Your success is never any more than .your desire,” she would say. “Always look up to the bet ter things of life no matter how far down you are. The farther down you are, the farther up you have to look and climb; but after reaching the top, you will have seen more and experienced more and your life will be all the more richer for having gone through this.” We would then go to bed, having received our lessons for the night. (Continued on page 4)
Fayetteville State University Student Newspaper
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Jan. 1, 1955, edition 1
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