Sunday
Sep052010
To the Sophomore in All of Us
Sunday, September 5, 2010 at 1:37PM
I have been a senior in high school. I have been a senior in college. I am now a senior citizen. Yet what I am, really, is a sophomore. I am a wise-fool. In Greek sophos means wise, and moros means fool. There are moments when I display knowledge, and I am of some use. Then there are times when I let my instincts reign and I break all rules of propriety.
From Monday August 23 to Wednesday August 25, I was a tour guide for freshmen about to attend Stevens Institute of Technology, in Hoboken, New Jersey. They had paid an additional fee for these excursions. Official orientation actually commenced at a 1 PM lunch, August 25.
Three guides were on the job, all with the same itineraries. The first day, Monday, we were to travel uptown, north of 59th Street. All tours started on campus. That day it rained. The temperature was in the high seventies. My charges showed up in shorts or pants, t-shirts and sandals, with an occasional person adorned with running shoes, or jacket. They walked slowly and were all yawning. They had attended the previous night's activity which ended late.
If all who paid appeared, including school staff, two coaches were to have forty-seven participants, and one was to have forty-six. I left with forty-four, after ejecting seven, as instructed by the man-in-charge. He told me, “You have too many.” I responded with, “Let them stay. I believe in free will. Plus, they probably already bonded.” He rolled his eyes, this being our sixth year of working together, and grabbed the microphone. He eventually got what he wanted.
Then I introduced myself to the group. “I am your tour guide, Jane. I am not your role model. Please do not look up to me in any area.”
I distributed maps of the city. Two students refused them. I admonished all with, “Always say yes to a free hand-out. You may learn something. You may not. You can always throw it away. If you say ‘no’ you deny yourself the experience.”
Our first stop was the Episcopal Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Its main entrance was on 112th Street and Amsterdam Avenue. It was in an area of Manhattan called Morningside Heights, though on an English land grant from the 18th century, it was part of Harlem. I said, “That means nothing is as it appears to be; that’s why romance is short lived, a high, like a drug. You have to come down. What you are experiencing is sexual tension. That is fleeting and simultaneously forever present. It is an on-going battle. A well-formed thigh, a small nose, or straight aligned white teeth, are physical attributes, not a measure of lasting connection. Happiness comes from work you like and courage. The rest is illusion. ”
Several people were sleeping. They only awoke when they heard us leaving. I continued outside.“The tour of the Cathedral is voluntary. I have much to offer. You may not believe it, or you may not wish to receive it. Only through your mistakes in judgment will you discover who you really are. For those who wish to drop out, meet me on the coach in thirty minutes. For Seinfeld fans, the diner in that TV show is at the corner of 112th Street and Broadway.”
A few left, but I still had a following.
The Cathedral had a suggested admission fee. I had a check. I got brochures, and everyone wanted one. I told them it was about two-thirds finished. Construction had stopped. It was too costly. I added, “Even spiritual endeavors have a price." Then I pointed out where the Cathedral changed architectural directions, going from Byzantine-Romanesque to Gothic. I concluded with, “It is human nature to change your mind, even in the middle of a project. Only a confident person contradicts himself. The only thing that is permanent is your epitaph.”
The Cathedral covered 121,000 square feet. The nave, from floor to ceiling, was 124 feet and around the chapels, it was 232 feet. “Look up.” I said. “That will remind you what you really are, a speck in the universe, here for just a moment and gone in a flash. Learn to laugh. That skill will make whatever befalls you tolerable.”
Several now wondered where the bathrooms were.
The Cathedral’s cornerstone was in place December 27, 1892. That year Ellis Island opened. The seven chapels represented a few groups who came through there, Germans, Irish, Scots, Scandinavians, French, Italian,and some Africans and Asians. At the altar, were two candelabras, or Jewish menorahs, gifts from Adolph Ochs, the publisher of the New York Times. This was his thank you for the Cathedral coming out against the persecution of the Jews in Russia.
The Cathedral was situated on 11.5 acres, with gardens and other church operated structures. The previous owner was the Leake and Watts Orphanage Asylum. Its 1840s classical Greek Temple structure, was still present, where the south transept would be if the Cathedral had been finished. Inside that building were offices and a peacock pen. Three peacocks ran free. They came inside when it got dark, and slept where the orphans had been before them.
While back on the coach, I praised my students with their somnolent tendencies. I said, “Napping forestalled old age, which they will never reach, if they continued doing so while driving.” They all laughed.
What joy I felt to have initiated such merrymaking. To flaunt social convention, to unleash emotions contained within a child-like heart, and to act the fool is to know freedom.
Here's to the sophomore in all of us.
From Monday August 23 to Wednesday August 25, I was a tour guide for freshmen about to attend Stevens Institute of Technology, in Hoboken, New Jersey. They had paid an additional fee for these excursions. Official orientation actually commenced at a 1 PM lunch, August 25.
Three guides were on the job, all with the same itineraries. The first day, Monday, we were to travel uptown, north of 59th Street. All tours started on campus. That day it rained. The temperature was in the high seventies. My charges showed up in shorts or pants, t-shirts and sandals, with an occasional person adorned with running shoes, or jacket. They walked slowly and were all yawning. They had attended the previous night's activity which ended late.
If all who paid appeared, including school staff, two coaches were to have forty-seven participants, and one was to have forty-six. I left with forty-four, after ejecting seven, as instructed by the man-in-charge. He told me, “You have too many.” I responded with, “Let them stay. I believe in free will. Plus, they probably already bonded.” He rolled his eyes, this being our sixth year of working together, and grabbed the microphone. He eventually got what he wanted.
Then I introduced myself to the group. “I am your tour guide, Jane. I am not your role model. Please do not look up to me in any area.”
I distributed maps of the city. Two students refused them. I admonished all with, “Always say yes to a free hand-out. You may learn something. You may not. You can always throw it away. If you say ‘no’ you deny yourself the experience.”
Our first stop was the Episcopal Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Its main entrance was on 112th Street and Amsterdam Avenue. It was in an area of Manhattan called Morningside Heights, though on an English land grant from the 18th century, it was part of Harlem. I said, “That means nothing is as it appears to be; that’s why romance is short lived, a high, like a drug. You have to come down. What you are experiencing is sexual tension. That is fleeting and simultaneously forever present. It is an on-going battle. A well-formed thigh, a small nose, or straight aligned white teeth, are physical attributes, not a measure of lasting connection. Happiness comes from work you like and courage. The rest is illusion. ”
Several people were sleeping. They only awoke when they heard us leaving. I continued outside.“The tour of the Cathedral is voluntary. I have much to offer. You may not believe it, or you may not wish to receive it. Only through your mistakes in judgment will you discover who you really are. For those who wish to drop out, meet me on the coach in thirty minutes. For Seinfeld fans, the diner in that TV show is at the corner of 112th Street and Broadway.”
A few left, but I still had a following.
The Cathedral had a suggested admission fee. I had a check. I got brochures, and everyone wanted one. I told them it was about two-thirds finished. Construction had stopped. It was too costly. I added, “Even spiritual endeavors have a price." Then I pointed out where the Cathedral changed architectural directions, going from Byzantine-Romanesque to Gothic. I concluded with, “It is human nature to change your mind, even in the middle of a project. Only a confident person contradicts himself. The only thing that is permanent is your epitaph.”
The Cathedral covered 121,000 square feet. The nave, from floor to ceiling, was 124 feet and around the chapels, it was 232 feet. “Look up.” I said. “That will remind you what you really are, a speck in the universe, here for just a moment and gone in a flash. Learn to laugh. That skill will make whatever befalls you tolerable.”
Several now wondered where the bathrooms were.
The Cathedral’s cornerstone was in place December 27, 1892. That year Ellis Island opened. The seven chapels represented a few groups who came through there, Germans, Irish, Scots, Scandinavians, French, Italian,and some Africans and Asians. At the altar, were two candelabras, or Jewish menorahs, gifts from Adolph Ochs, the publisher of the New York Times. This was his thank you for the Cathedral coming out against the persecution of the Jews in Russia.
The Cathedral was situated on 11.5 acres, with gardens and other church operated structures. The previous owner was the Leake and Watts Orphanage Asylum. Its 1840s classical Greek Temple structure, was still present, where the south transept would be if the Cathedral had been finished. Inside that building were offices and a peacock pen. Three peacocks ran free. They came inside when it got dark, and slept where the orphans had been before them.
While back on the coach, I praised my students with their somnolent tendencies. I said, “Napping forestalled old age, which they will never reach, if they continued doing so while driving.” They all laughed.
What joy I felt to have initiated such merrymaking. To flaunt social convention, to unleash emotions contained within a child-like heart, and to act the fool is to know freedom.
Here's to the sophomore in all of us.
Reader Comments (6)
LOVE IT!! Good to see the students have not dulled your thoughts of them. Heaven only knows, someone has to TELL them. Sure hope they take care of us in our old age. Good work.
I like knowing about St John's. Didn't know that stuff! You NEED to write that book. I'd read it. How are the upstate friends doing?
Judy Unick
Peacocks! Who knew?
I could almost picture the sleeping students as you described them.
We saw that cathedral briefly on one of our tours with you. Perhaps we will see more of it this year. See you in October! Minnett
Jane, I truly enjoy reading about your experiences with your groups and all the knowledge that you share with them and us. How did the remainder of the tour go??? And what are Lou and Louise doing these days? Can't wait for the next installment on life with Jane! Love it!
God knows, in the area of romance, I've made mistakes in judgement...but I'm yet not really certain of who I am...you are so wise about so many things...we need to talk!!!
I remember the tours of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine...but I don't remember hearing about the peacocks...I must listen more closely next time!
the next to last paragraph could be my epitaph except beginning with she.
I just read this and I love this. I am still in college, but I have recently been very nostalgic thinking about how simple life used to be when I was eight. I saw Peter Pan this weekend with my mom in Greenville, and it really had me thinking... I feel like sometimes I am wanting to grow up so fast, and then I realize all those years flew by and I can't remember all the little things that made those years great. Wouldn't it be great to be the boy who "never grew up"?