are all attention. Each speaker has an indiivdual appeal; we feel the sincerity of her words. And now our chance. Questions come from the floor. Here is interest.

A thoughtful audience leaves to return the next day to take part in a panel that means most to them. They sit in at round table discussions led by other guest speakers: Dr. Allan Stockdale, Mr. Samuel Speigler, Mrs. Blanche K. Katz, Miss Eleanor Foster, Miss Monica Owen, Miss Eleanor W. Mole, Miss Lydia Altschuler, Miss Catherine Nardi, Miss Edith Christienson-each representing a different phase of world activity. I talk to these parents as they leave, one here, one there. They sense they are a part of all this. Was not one of them a parent speaker and an active one in each panel discussion?

FACULTY-STUDENT STUNT SHOW-March 19, 20, 23, 1943. The curtain goes up. The show is on. For two nights and an afternoon we play to packed houses. We dance, we swim, we skate. We sing, we act, we clown. The doting mamas and papas delight in the antics of their daughters. They glow with pride at their talent and skill. They picture each in the future a Lily Pons or a Marian Anderson, an Ethel Barrymore or a Beatrice Lillie. They see on the stage a Sonja Henie, a Cornelia Otis Skinner, an Ethel Leginsky. They are proud, these parents.

THE FASHION SHOW-June, 1943. I sit in the last seat high up in the balcony looking down over a crowded house of customers, parents, pupils and teachers-down on a dramatic and colorful display of gowns for every occasion-the finished product of the girls of the Art Department.

There strut across the stage proud owners of smart outfits, each with her designer on her arm, both glowing with achievement: the ladies in evening array, the smart tailored ones, girls in sport clothes, teachers in afternoon dress, street ensembles complete with hat and gloves, the lounging ladies with house coats colorful and enticing, slack suits so artfully tailored that one almost has a change of mind. There are the bicycle girl, the roller skaters, the players of tennis. And there is Miss Ficks charming in her new dress with jacket thrown over arm; the face of her little designer lit with joy, the envy of all the others.

We are given a brief view of the workshop activity behind all

this-the consultations, research in the fashion magazines, halfsized sketches, in color, of the envisioned gown. The dummies, the models, the draping, the patterns laid on the materials, the girls at work.

The setting changes. I look down on a cool garden scene and there I see costumes for every garden activity-from the girl in shorts busily plucking potato beetles, to the mistress of the house dainty in a soft, clinging creation, her face shaded with drooping hat, flower basket on arm, gloves and shears.

And there is comedy, too,-the ship scene. From the gaily flagged boat there step beautiful girls in summer finery of every description. There to be met by ogling sailors in natty suits, wisecracking, making passes, hoping for a date. A few succeeded and led off their ladies to secluded benches for sailor-like flirtations.

Nor is wartime forgotten. Here is a trim suit made from father's old coat and pants; here a tailored sport costume from brother's jacket and slacks. There is a street dress from grandmother's cape. And mother's ten-year old dinner gown reappears in an afternoon dress. The cost of each ranged from thirty to eighty cents.

Nor must I forget the soft voice of the girl at the mike with her timely explanations and humorous comments. Nor the musical accompaniment, especially the lyrics of the songsters.

POLITICS-October 1943. It is preelection night and in our auditorium are our parents and our neighborhood friends-all come to listen to the candidates for election. And on the platform Miss Ficks with men to the right and left of her. Soon State SolicitorGeneral Orrin P. Judd, takes over, and we hear speeches by Deputy Commissioner of Licenses, Arthur S. Hirsch, candidate for city court judge; Councilwoman Rita Casey and Robert J. Jagocki, Democratic candidates for Council; and Norman B. Johnson and Charles A. Geraci, Republican nominees.

And now our Principal again. She presents a resolution, later adopted unanimously: "Resolved, that the Senate of the United States be urged to go on record as favoring membership in an international organization open now to the members of the United Nations and after the war to all nations; this organization to have diplomatic, military, and economic power to prevent aggression and promote peace among the nations."

The meeting goes on. We are entertained by Councilman Walter R. Hart and Mr. Joseph G. Glass, Socialist candidate for City Council, as they fight a verbal duel over city policies.

The meeting is over. The doors close on voices lost in goodnatured argument.

CARNIVAL-October, 1943. Monday morning. We arrive. The time is 8 o'clock. The taxis do a thriving business. One after another unloads a dissheveled teacher with bundles and baskets. Within an hour three long tables in the Main Hall are laden with the handiwork of the teachers.

There are pictures, oils and watercolors, framed and unframed; jams, spices, jellies. cakes, candies, cookies, doughnuts. Ferns— from the delicate Maiden Hair to the sturdy Bostonian. Begonias -all colors, even to the rare rose; a tiny Baby Tears and a Saint Paulia with its "Who desires a little touch of violet?" There are knitted garments, belts, kerchiefs, and dainty articles of clothing. From a Pennsylvania-Dutch Farm a freshly killed chick and newly laid eggs. And the Principal baked a pecan pie.

The fun begins. We run down between classes to place a higher bid on something we desire. We argue, we fight. At three o'clock the bidding is stopped and many of us are caught upstairs. The pie goes for $6.75. Soon it becomes a hundred pieces each a delicious mouthful. We let no morsel from our "lippes falle." And the Red Cross is $370 the richer.

The parents, too, desire a carnival. They wish to show what they can do. So one week later, at night, they display their wares. Here is needlework, delicate and beautiful in design. Their laces, crochet work and linen call to mind the countries in the old world from which these gentle folk have sprung. One has no handiwork but she brings cigarettes for the soldiers. A smiling colored mother places her home-canned jar of peaches on the table. I buy it on the spot. My coat pocket is gay with a kerchief edged with yellow tatting. The little Czecho-Slovakian thinks maybe I can be taught to tat. And they swell the Fund.

POST-WAR HORIZON-December, 1943. Here is a youthful audience of fifteen hundred delegates, boys and girls representing fifteen high schools of the city. Another Victory Congress is on. Dr. Harry Gideonse, President of Brooklyn College, is the Keynote

Speaker, and Mr. Samuel Steinberg, Chairman of the History Department of the Samuel J. Tilden High School, is the Discussion Leader. The General Panel starts and ends. Surely interesting, but not more so than the discussions that follow from the floor. What interest! Never tell me again that our high school students do not think.

We go to rooms allotted to the individual panels: How can we prevent World War III; Geography of the Future-Airways to Peace; Are the Germans and the Japanese Incurable?-Educational Reconstruction; Science and Technology in the Post-War World; Intercultural Relations-How Can We Secure Understanding Among People of Different Faiths and Races; Jobs For All.

I become aware for the first time of the parents and other grownups in the audience. It is not all youth. The panels begin and the parents are to the fore-one parent speaker in each group leading off along with the guest speaker. This is something new. We have come a long way.

THE SCIENCE FAIR-December, 1943. It is five o'clock Friday afternoon and we the Bio and Chem Squads—are over in the Brooklyn Museum, dead with fatigue but happy. The others gone and the last exhibit in place. The Brooklyn Science Fair which we are sponsoring is now ready.

Saturday come the judges: Dr. Parmlee, President of the American Institute, Dr. Graves of the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, Mr. John A. Zellers, President of the Remington Rand Corporation, Mr. Joseph Kraus, Editor of Science News Letter, Mrs. Glenn Armstrong, Artist and Botanist, Miss Margaret Patterson of Science Service, Mr. Joseph Zeller of the War Labor Board. There are forty-four exhibits, the work of one hundred seventy pupils from fourteen high schools in the Boro of Brooklyn-exhibits in Biology, plant and animal, Chemistry, Meteorology, Aviation and General Come Tuesday. Miss Ficks, our Principal, awards the prizes and gives out certificates presented by the Federation of Science Teachers Associations. The public come all week and we are asked to extend the Fair. We do for two more days. It is an interested public, not just our community, but the parents and friends from other high schools.

PARENT-TEACHER ASSOCIATION. I handed over the jour

nal. "Tell me about your P.T.A. meetings. They are here in your book but my time is almost gone."

They are practical and inhad a 'Black-out' meeting. He did a good job. Then

"As you see, we have one a month. teresting. Just after Pearl Harbor we An air warden arrived, helmet and all. we had a tin can and waste paper salvage affair. A squad from the neighborhood gave us detailed instructions. At another gathering the Science Department made bombs, exploded them and taught us how to cope with them. Before ration days a member of the Consumers League explained the point system and gave us instructions in marketing. One night we listened to Dr. Harry Bricker, Principal of P. S. 55, who urged us to join the American Free World Association to prevent all future wars. At another time a history teacher and six seniors held forth on preelection issues. At the beginning of the term various clubs entertained, showing the parents their extra-curricular activities-possibly an explanation of their tardiness in arriving home. At the last meeting we had a debate. on subsidies and inflation. Then we have open school week just as do other high schools. The parents come and go but return for Friday night. They are entertained by the Dramatic Club, the Glee Club and the Orchestra. The Principal speaks. The teachers

later in the classrooms."

Finishing the perusal of the scrap-book of the teacher-reporter, I rose to depart, in my mind and heart a new understanding of the words of a poet of long ago

"Cras amet qui numquam amavit, quiquam amavit cras amet."

Anticipating the Activity Program

IRVING FLINKER

Brooklyn Technical High School

DISPUTED OPINIONS. It is regrettable that many high school teachers throughout the city prejudge the effectiveness of the activity program, and express opinions, unfounded on facts or observation, to our disinterested colleagues. Such criticism is often analyzed and exposed for its lack of foundation and substance by those who know the facts or are guided by a spirit of scientific inquiry. More often, however, the unsuspecting high school teacher