Carson-

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Carson-Newman Reflections
(Playing ~ "Memory")

Our arrival was routine to all who watched: The footlockers, the boxes full of
clothes and gear, the parents by our sides. Not unlike all the others who had
moved in before us, one would have observed.

And we, in our naivete, may have quickly agreed. Down deep, however, we knew
that the Moving In meant Moving Out ~ Moving Out of our homes and out of the
care of our parents. Moving In meant adjusting to roommates and schedules
and becoming totally responsible for ourselves. Indeed, this was not a
routine event by any means because it was happening to us.

Adjustment was necessary if we were to survive. In listing our survival skills,
it should be noted that we were children of the Great Depression,
where a lowly nickel had great worth and food was never wasted.
We had lived through World War II; we had known rationing of food and shoes
and a host of other things; we had experienced shortages. We had felt
the loss of people who never returned from the war.

We had spent summers by ourselves because of the threat of polio. With this
background of survival skills, adjustment was no big deal: We just kind of
edged into college life. Thanks to the Great Depression and the war,
we knew the worth of a dollar, the need to share, and ~ most importantly ~
the value of the human existence. With this knowledge, as might be expected,
we handled with relative ease the adjustment to college life.

Perhaps we were so busy adjusting, studying, and socializing that it did not
dawn on us that we were the last class to enter during the 40s ~
that we were saying goodbye not only to home but also to a decade that was both
pre-World War II and post-World War II. Each of us could (and still can) remember exactly where we were on Pearl Harbor Day and recall our young, frightened feelings then; we can recall just as vividly the joyful celebrations at the war's end.

Perhaps we should have taken time to commemorate the passing of such a strange,
stressful decade that had provided us with so many life experiences ... but we didn't.
Instead, we went on with our prescribed (and non-prescribed) activities:
Observing the sign-out and sign-in sheets in our dorms (after all, we were
very disciplined); never missing meals (we were Depression Kids,
remember); attending compulsory chapel in the auditorium.

We also showed respect for adults and avoided four-letter words. We dutifully
turned in our assignments and crammed for tests as the semesters came and went.
This was our world, the Carson-Newman Experience.

We also engaged in a lot of other activities: Staying up later than we should,
popping corn and making fudge in our rooms, making new friends ~ sometimes
(many times?) giving up precious study time to cram in our extra-curricular activities.
We talked into the night, wondering what life would be like on the "outside,"
if we would find good jobs, if we would live happily ever after.

There was laughter, there were tears, there were bad times, there were good times.
It was a time of self-discovery, a short period of time that was ours to find out what
kind of people we really were. It was a time when we looked hard at our own values
and goals, and actually changed them if we felt it was necessary.

As for the most elusive of all goals, the attainment of happiness, it was
at Carson-Newman that we learned these truths:

"Man might possess everything tangible in the world
and yet not be happy, for happiness is the satisfying
of the soul, not of the mind or body."

also:

"The basis of happiness is the love
of something outside self."

(Both are quotes from Emerson ~ American lit, junior year.)

Thank you, Carson-Newman, for giving us the opportunity to learn such valuable truths, truths that will last us a lifetime.

~~~

Thank you, my dear friend Wanda, for granting me the privilege of adding
some of your writings to my site.

I would love it if you would sign my guest book.

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