This Week in NMH History 2006-07 110 years ago #29
As we bid farewell to National Poetry Month, this week we reprint a column featuring some of it. For decades it was the practice of the school newspapers to publish articles without by-lines and their scribes wrote in anonymity. More recently, this practice has been abandoned, but this space has always protected the identity of writers; however, with the kind permission of the author, we reveal the writer of this week’s column: crew coach and director of college counseling, Peter Jenkins.
from The Bridge, vol. XVIII, no. 17, p. 3. (April 30, 1987)
The View From Here
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
- T. S. Eliot
T.S. Eliot wrote these lines in 1922, in the aftermath of World War I, “the war to end all wars.” They are the opening lines to his famous work, “The Wasteland,” an often studied and hugely footnoted work that is as depressing as are those four lines. So, April. What’s it like around here, in 1987? It certainly has its elements of cruelty. Consider these aspects of our communal living: we are tantalized with the warm days which are hints of real “spring to come,” and then we are brought rudely back to reality with cold rain and “blustery” days.
April 15th lies smack in the middle of the month, a day that chews on the hopes of seniors and digests the earnings of the adults in this community. Both the IRS and the Ivy League take their due on that day. Baseball season is in full swing, and the silly heads of Red Sox fans, and Cubs fans and almost any fans are still filled with visions of pennants, and titles and baseball in October. The cycle of student leadership has begun anew in April, as the old Student leaders are a part of the interview process which helps decide the new Student Leaders.
Seniors begin to really understand that NMH is becoming the past; a kind of premature nostalgia sets in. Freshmen are more sophomores than they are ninth graders Both the hockey and basketball seasons are coming to an end, with the hopes of teams like the Knicks and Bruins swiftly dashed by the realities of poor seasons and early exits from the play-offs.
April begins with April Fool’s Day, the only day that comes to mind whcihhas institutionalized pranks and bad jokes. What a way to begin! The next month, for example, begins with May Day; that institution is filled with flowers, girls in white dresses and garlands. Now that would be something to look forward to.
The religious implications are not particularly uplifting, either. Passover, as this writer understands it, celebrates the “passing over” of the angel of death, past the doors which have been marked by the [blood of] the slaughtered lamb. The Christians celebrate the death of Christ, and of course, his resurrection. Both holidays have bittersweet implications, clearly.
So what did T.S. Eliot mean, exactly, when he noted the cruelty of April? Well, the rebirth which the season symbolizes is not a totally happy event. In his mind the rebirth has all the implications of yet another life, which has as many painful learning experiences and tedium as the previous life had. In the cynic’s view, then, what is there to celebrate? More opportunities lost, more Sox games filled with stranded runners and missed cut-off men; spring rain leading to May flowers which lead to bees and hornets and stings and nests.
The Ivy League rejection letters will have their sad news every year. With ten times the number of applicants as spots, each year will lead to the sense of rejection on the part of thousands of seniors. Certainly the large number or juniors who apply for the Student Leader position recognize that they are in a “rejectable” position as well. April can be cruel.
But, hey. You know what? Some of those teams will win the pennant. Some of those Ivy longshots will get in. Some of those juniors will go on to be excellent Student Leaders. It was a beautiful day today. And April is almost over.