Page Two.
THE SALEMITE
Friday, March 20, 1942.
Published Weekly By
The Student Body or
Salem College
Member
Southern Inter-Collegiate
Press Association
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EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT
Editor-In-Chief Carrie Donnell
Associate Editor Barbara Whittier
EDITORIAL STAFF
Ne^s Editor - Doris Shore
Sports Editor Louise Bralower
Music Editor Alice Purcell
Fflculty Adviser Miss Jess Byrd
Sara Henry, Leila Johnston, Julia Smith, Frances Neal.
Daphne Reifch, Katie Wolff, Mary L. Glidewell, Elizabeth
Johnston, Barbara Lasley, Margaret Moran, Marie Van Hoy.
Helen Fokaury, Margaret Leinbach, Mary Lou Moore, Betty
v'anderbilt, Mary Worth Walker, Elizabeth Weldon, Mary
Louise Rhodes, Lucie Hodges, Frances Yelverton.
^ FEATURE STAFF
Feature Editor Eugenia Baynes
Mildred Avera. Dorothy Dixon, Anita Kenyon, Nancy
Rogers. Nona Lee Cole, Elsie Newman, Ceil Nuchols, Mar
garet Ray. Dorothy Stadler, Elizabeth Griffin, Betsy Soach,
Kathryn Traynham, Reece Thomas, Marion Goldberg, Mary
Best, Katherine Manning.
BUSINESS DEPARTMENT
Business Manager Nancy Chesson
Assistant Business Manager Dorothy Sisk
Advertising Manager Mary Margaret Struvcn
Exchange and Circulation Manager Dot McLean
ADVERTISING STAFF
Flora Avera, Becky Candler, Doris Nebel, Betty Moore,
Adele Chase, Mary E. Bray, Nancy McClung, Sarah Lindley,
Allene Seville, Elizabeth Griffin, Margaret Kempton, Sara
Barnum, Jennie Dye Bunch, Lib Read, Harriet Sutton, Ruth
O’Neal, Yvonne Phelps, Elizabeth Bernhardt, Edith Shapiro.
READ THIS —
IT’S WORTH IT!
OUR PART IN
DEFENSE
The average college girl has proved her
self an enthusiastic backer of the National
Defense Program. First Aid and Motor
Mechanics Classes have been so vrell attended
that a knowledge of the pressure points and
the gasoline engine is becoming a social asset.
Though information on artificial respira
tion and changing tires is extremely valuable,
the minority will actually utilize this instruc
tion in active service to the country; thus
most of us must make our contributions in
smaller and necessarily less glorious ways.
The Defense Board would probably much pre
fer that you co-operate in endeavors to save
tin foil, newspapers, tooth-paste tubes and to
sell defense stamps and bonds than it would
that you strive after a semi-professional knowl
edge of medicine; would recommend that you
consider your own health before attempting
to master the methods of splinting and ban
daging.
It is these lesser efforts which will count
in the long run, and we should not neglect
them in an over-ambitious or over-energetic
attempt to do our part.
—B. V.
Are you afraid to think? Are you afraid to grow? Had
you rather be placidly not-unhappy than to think, if the think
ing brings pain with realization? Are you just one of many
“sacs with open mouths for food to slip in?” Do you decide
blindly that life will form itself around you if you let it?
Our fathers and mothers were just such a generation.
They were a generation whose whole philosophy was negative.
They were a generation that made the twenties roar . . . they
were a generation that was too busy amusing itself to ever have
a really good time. They were shallow, and they liked being
shallow so well that they refused to attempt to think. They
were so busy being a generation of non-war that they became
a genei’ation which begat the most wide spread of all wars.
Perhaps we have heard the phrase “win the peace” so much
that it has become meaningless . . . NOW we are faced with
deciding whether we want to be a generation of peace or wheth
er we want to take our short-sighted pleasures while we may.
NOW we have the opportunity of deciding what sort of world
we want for our children to grow up in. If we wait until to
morrow to decide, our day will have passed and we, like our
fathers, will see) all tooi late that we should have been thinking
about happiness in terms of years and generations rather than
in terms of week-ends. Tomorrow, if we wait, we too will be a
generation not only fighting but begetting war! Do you want
to w'in the peace or had you rather take the dead-end street
of complacentcy ?
When we see signs splashed all over windows, when we
hear radio commentators bark, when we see at the bottom of
each, advertisement . . , “Buy bonds for liberty!” We have to
wonder, “Liberty for what?” If we are screeching for the
liberty t0( go on day by day living our own selfish lives, if we
are letting boys die so that we may have the privilege to make
another and perhaps^ a bigger mess than the present one ... If
we are fighting; for that kind of liberty, then we are wasting
our energy. Such a liberty is in reality its own prison . .
such a liberty is not worth fighting for and the world that it
creates is not worth living in.
Remember the now rather hackneyed phrase, “all that’s
wrong with the world is the people in it.”, and decide if you
are one of its troubles.
—M. B.
LETTER TO
THE EDITOR
Ever since the first day I came to Salem
College 1 have been amazed, amazed that the
American Flag does not fly over our college.
Kvery time I walk toward the dining hall
I see that lonely flag pole and no flag. I al
ways wonder why this is so. , Often I have
asked upper classmen if they have ever seen
a flag on the pole, and the answer has always
been no. This leads me to two rather startling
conclusions. Either Salem has no flag, or no
one has enough pep' and energy to go and put
that flag up every day. I hate to think the
former is true and if it isn’t then something
should be done to see that the flag is dis
played. 1 am sure that there are many other
people aside from myself who would gladly
do this.
I do not believe that we Americans have
to outwardly show our patriotism, but I do
think that the American flag, the symbol of all
we hold so dear, does have its place on the
Salem Campus. What do you think?
Sincerely,
—Dorothy Stadler.
“BE GOOD,
SWEET MAID
We, the editorial writers of the “Salemite,” once a week,
put aside the common sins of the masses (that’s you), and be
come oracles of wisdom — berating you for chapel tardiness,
not wearing hose down town, not appreciating your oppor
tunities, etc. We' are not to blame for that. It is our business
to write editorials, and silly, meaningless editorials we will
continue to write a^ long as there is that traditional allotment
in, the left hand corner labeled “editorials.” But this week it
is different. We have something to say, and we demand your
attention.
There is one sin that has not ranked among those usually
attacked by editorial writers. We are all guilty of it, and be
cause it is so common, we fail to do anything about it. The
crime of which we speak is lack of concern for the other fellow.
You gossip; habitually, almost unconscious sort of gossip that
makes you say cruel, unkind things about people you hardly
know. You mistake sarcasm for wit, and other people’s blun
ders for fun. Think, now. Haven’t you slipped into such hab
its? Do you laugh at the girl with the odd-looking clothes and
thick glasses? Do you find it easier to snicker with the rest at
misfits than shame yourself to be seen with them and help them ?
You sit smugly at your table in the dining room, and lazily tear
other girls to shreds as they walk past. Do you criticize idly a
certain girl who irritates you until you have worked up a posi
tive dislike for her ? If you stopped to think, you might realize
that there is enough hate in the world without your contribu
ting. ^
Our sin in being unkind in little things is in being petty,
narrow, and weak. If the challenge of war does not make us
want to strive for a more adult tolerance and sympathy, then
there’s nothing for which to strive.
—N. R.
OP MOUNTS
AND'MOLEHILLS
It sometimes seems as if our little lives
are burned out in a futile endeavor to trans
form mountains into molehills and, likewise,
molehills into mountains. We lack that mystic
sixth sense which tells us what things are im
portant and what things do not merit our
precious hours. We lie awake into the night
pondering over minute details which we shall
have forgotten by daylight, and yet, when life
itself begs our consideration, we have no time
for the things which really matter.
We look around us and see the obvious
and so concern ourselves with the obvious that
we miss the subtle factors. We burn out our
minds and our bodies pursuing will-o-the-wisps
her.
If we continue to wait for someone else
to do/ our tasks, if we continue to allow some
one else to assume our responsibility, we shall
soon find ourselves weeking over the lifeless
body of that which was once our civilization.
We cannot forever ignore that which is right
fully ours; time and fate are merciless aven
gers. No happiness, no peace have ever re
sulted from neglect.
Mountains loom large on the horizon, and
we attempt to wish them away into molehills,
while the very molehills under our feet assume
gigantic proportions and haunt our dreams.
When M'ill we learn that molehills are the
stuff that mounts are made of, that until we
recognize the one, we can never ■cope with the
other? We must know what things are im
portant. We must meet our molehills and call
them such; by putting them in their proper
place, we have only to enlarge our scope when
and have nothing left for reality. We cry out
for the waters of wisdom but make no attempt
to discover the source of the spring. We plead
for the fruits of labor without having earned
them. Where are we going and why?
Our world is no longer the safe, secure
alcove in eternity that we would have it be.
By our own carelessness and by the careless
ness of countless thousands like us, it has been
transformed into a threatening wilderness
through which no travelers may aimlessly
wander. We must know where we are going
and why. We must have purpose and plan;
we must be aware of our destination, or suffer
ourselves to be engulfed in chaos. There re
mains no haven for those who haven’t time to
Fate is not kind to those who ignore
care.
we deal with the mountains. As long as our
proportions are correct, life and living be
come a matter of growth. When we distort
our symbols, we create stumbling-blocks for
our paths.
Why do we hesitate ? Why do we not
awake? Our sleep is filled with nightmares
and our dreams are empty wishes. The sun
light and reality are not so harsh as the noth
ingness we are doomed to encounter in our
aimless wandering.
—R. T.
BUY
DEFENSE
STAMPS
BONDS
KEEP ‘EM FLYING