[Critique Group 2] Sorry. this is the version of comments re: Alice I meant to send

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Wow! It doesn’t get more heartwrinching than this. The manner in which you told the story in astraightforward way, without resorting to emotionally evocativevocabulary,  is extremely effective.  I feel the same way about the English teacheras I do about the policeman in  LesMiserables.   They b both followed theletter of the law rather than the heart of the law. I  can see nothing to suggest that would makethis piece better. Cudos.



 



 



A Poessay:  May 28, 1968



 



by Alice Jane-Marie Massa



 



 



Prologue



 



           1968 was the first "sea change" year in the history of mylifetime--for the entire country and for my high school.  Due to theassassinations of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and presidential candidateRobert F. Kennedy in 1968, many people do not recall that Helen Keller alsodied in 1968--June 1 of that memorable year.  Most people never knew thatSusan also passed away in 1968; but everyone in our high school, with anenrollment of about four hundred, knew.



 



           During our senior year of 1967-68, Susan returned to school after her surgeryfor malignant cancer.  In Mrs. Baldwin's senior English class, Susan satin one of the wooden row desks which was two seats in front of mine and one rowto the left.  Although Susan's hair was gone, her ever-present smile andtwinkling eyes persisted.  The wig she wore, like the cancer, seemed toolarge for her thin face and body.  Her slender hand rested on a small,decorative, gold pillow--gold because our school colors were old gold andblack.  With great hesitation, I glanced at what remained of herhand--part of her hand, her thumb, and her index finger.  After a while, Itried to turn my attention to the English class.



 



           At a later point in the semester, I was walking down the north stairway of the Junior High Building.  I enteredthe seemingly empty corridor and realized that Susan was making up atest.  She was sitting at an arm-chair desk and was trying to complete thetest.  Another student was standing beside her and called me over to wherethey were in the stairwell.  During the brief conversation, the otherstudent said that I would know the answers to a couple of questions.  Idid.  Susan never asked for my help; the other student did.  I hadnever cheated nor facilitated someone else's cheating; however, on that day, Ithought I was doing what was right by helping Susan with a couple ofanswers.  I never regretted doing so.  I knew that my helping her inthis way was a very small gesture.  Cancer was really the one doing the cheating.



 



           After our senior trip to Chicagowas cancelled due to the unrest there after the assassination of Dr. MartinLuther King, Jr., we seniors were told that there was not enough time to plananother trip.  Of course, these events happened in April of 1968; by May,although Susan had not returned to school for some time, we heard that shewanted to graduate with her class at the ceremony in the Clinton High SchoolGymnasium.  Also, we heard that one teacher was preventing Susan's wish: Mrs. Baldwin, the senior English teacher, did not want to give Susan a"pass" without work being appropriately and satisfactorilycompleted.  



 



           As the events and parties of the last month of our four years at Clinton High School continued, we finally heardthat someone convinced Mrs. Baldwin to change her mind so that Susan could beone of the 104 graduates at our Commencement.  Nevertheless, up to thelast minute, we were not certain that Susan would be able to attend thegraduation of the CHS Class of '68.



 



Malignant Commencement:  A Poem



 



Fiftyyears ago,



holdinga lace-trimmed, white handkerchief,



Iheard Donnie Miller say,



"Areyou going to cry?"



 



Wearinga white, tasseled mortar board



anda white graduation gown with white low heels,



I saw,in brown-tones and a blur,



thegurney being wheeled across the auditorium stage.



Susandid come for our graduation.




 

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