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afterwords archive
> Are we on the air?
By Linda Buchanan Wagner ’79
> A generation in search
by Nancy Obrien ’94
> For you, A.J.
by Ed Ziegler ’72
> Whit one day, world the next
by Marie Ranoia Alonso ’90
> My brother’s keepers
by Jim Koscs ’85
> Can you say, “College is super-dee-dupor?”
by Moira Jablon-Bernstein ’92
> Project Santa from a
New Perspective
by Lisa Shea Linden ’86
> The train to college
by Dorothy Ciryak Clark
Leonard ’76, ’84
> Debating the future
by Ron Weisberger ’65
> A deeply-rooted relationship
by Harriet Clevenger Lockwood ’88
> Curtain or copy: a major decision
by Susan Goodman Magod
> The bear necessities of friendship
by Qraig R. de Groot ’93
> Special delivery
by Darlene Beck-Jacobson ’74
> A room of my own
by Melissa F. Sherman ’86
> The diploma
by Ros Psolka ’90
> Remembering Sabrina
by Ros Psolka ’90
> Who wants my 33s?
By Jim Koscs ’85
> Looking for a sign
By Wendy Weber Crawford ’75, ’79, ’88
> An ode to 27A South Main Street
By Keith Forrest ’88
> Our flag in the window
By Lori Marshall ’92
> Mail, mortality and American mettle
By Brian Kass’85
> Christmas trees in the Kremlin
By Don Dunnington’97
> Aimless and malcontent
no more

By Tim Zatzariny, Jr. ’94
> Bringing the family
By Susan Parker ’74
> A little too soon for golden oldies
By Keith Forrest ’88
> Tale of a tile man
By Sabatino Mangini ’01
> Remembering Reagan
By David Coyle ’81
> Time well spent
By Leigh Koebert ’97
> Still a college kid...
By Gregg Clayton ’81
> What’s at the end of your “If only…”?
By Carol Servino ’75
> Catching the moment
and the meaning

By Casey Christy ’92, M’03
> Starting at Glassboro,
finishing at Rowan

By Lori Samlin Miller ’77
> Room to grow
By Casey Christy ’92, M’03
> Lifelong friends in spite of themselves
By Patricia Quigley ’78, M’03

Curtain or copy: a major decision
By Susan Goodman Magod ’64

entered Glassboro State College in 1960, and during my freshman year, two defining moments occurred which still affect my life, 34 years later. The first occurred in Professor George Reinfeld’s journalism class when I realized that I could write. The second happened one evening when I wandered into Bunce Room 101 and was invited by Professor David Lloyd to pick up a brush and paint flats for the next production.

Under Reinfeld’s careful watch, I learned the value of asking the right questions, the challenge of organizing information, and the power of seeing my articles published in The Whit. Class assignments included covering a basketball game in Tohill Auditorium with my roommate, Irene Fine ’64. Since neither of us really understood anything that we saw during the game, we went “backstage” to interview several friendly players who helped us make sense of our scribbled notes. In addition to writing for the paper, I edited, typed and “gophered” any errand requested. On deadline, I thrived in the organized tension filling the Whit office over the student center in Memorial.

I have no doubt that I could have become an editor had I remained on staff. But the same shy high school girl who was finding her voice in journalism was also realizing for the first time how powerful theatre can be. Although my acting skills were nothing to brag about, the fact that I could escape into a character’s skin and evoke feelings from an audience in Room 101 gave me a feeling of invincibility. There was nothing I could not try, no challenge too big or too small. Sweep floors? Paint canvas? Build a flat? Memorize a script? Talk about books, theatre and life with upperclassmen? I wanted to do it all.

Of course at some point freshman year ended and I was informed that I had to make a choice between journalism and theatre. Both demanded and deserved undivided attention and commitment. Thus I was handed my first serious adult decision and I remember suffering almost physical pain as I hashed out the pros and cons of belonging to one or the other organization. That no official major in either field existed at GSC in those years did not bother me. I wanted to take as many courses in both fields as I possibly could.

Eventually theatre won the tug-of-heart. Over the next three years, I accumulated the hours for Players’ One Thousand Hours Award, and I watched my roommate Irene go on to become editor-in-chief of The Whit while I served as president of Campus Players.
Life is a lesson in irony.

My theatre career ended with college graduation. I became a teacher at Manalapan High School where I still teach English today. Teaching, however, is acting in a sense, and I am grateful to Lloyd for giving me the confidence to face audiences five times a day.

But those Whit days and nights came full circle when 15 years ago I became the advisor of Manalapan High’s newspaper, Horizons, and began teaching journalism as well. When I knew that I was to become the Horizons’ advisor, I returned to Rowan to visit with Reinfeld. As I auditioned my plans to organize the journalism classes and newspaper staff, he put his stamp of approval on my projected beat system, newspaper sections and approach to educational journalism. It was wonderful to reconnect with someone who played such a large role in my life so many years ago.

I was lucky to encounter two such dedicated and inspiring professors during those special years. Lloyd and Reinfeld each offered me the chance to face important decisions, and in the process, find out who I was. Through these experiences I was able to develop the confidence to build a successful life. Now, when I see my students struggling to decide between curtain and copy, I think of my college years and listen with a rueful smile.

______________________
Susan Goodman Magod is an English teacher at Manalapan High School. Last year she was named Teacher of the Year. She lives in East Brunswick.

 
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