Master Minds: Inspiration from the Past: Editorial

by Heather Donckels

One night about a month ago, I walked across the baseball field in the dark. The Astroturf felt springy under my feet, and above me, the white half-moon hung in the sky. The air was so clear that I could see the half of the moon that was supposed to be hiding. It looked like a faintly glowing handle attaching the moon to the blackness. I found the gate in the chain link fence, stepped through it, and crossed the path to the Bryce House.

Anna and Debbie, my fellow editors, were waiting for me in the Writing Room across from Dr. Simons’ office. It is a small room, containing two computers, a bookshelf full of writing books, a coffee table covered with old yearbooks, and a water dispenser. On the far wall, there’s a window covered with blinds, the cheap, flimsy, off-white kind, and a deep windowsill crowned with the two-volume Oxford Compact Dictionary.

After a minute, Titus Gee finished his phone call and joined us. He is tall, with a goatee, rimless glasses and nearly white blonde hair held back in a ponytail. In 2001, he edited and published Master Minds for its first year. After about an hour, a petite young woman wearing a purple sweater joined us. She had soft brown bangs on her forehead. Her name was Christine Berwick, and she was the editor of Master Minds after Titus.

For two hours, Titus and Christine taught Anna, Debbie and me about newsletter layout, how to gather content, writer-editor relationships, and what we could expect our editing experiences of the semester to look like. But also, perhaps without knowing it, they passed along their original vision for Master Minds.

“Every night, the Bryce House used to be full of students,” Titus told us. “People would come here to hang out and study and talk philosophy. This was the art hub of The Master’s College.” Today, the Bryce House is a discarded shell of the old days. It’s almost always quiet.

Titus and Christine left for a meeting. Debbie and Anna left too, but I stayed behind in the Writing Room. “This is your office,” Titus had told us, “your home away from home.” I looked over the first year’s issues of Master Minds and was transported to the days when it ran strong, being published bi-monthly.

I sat down in the desk chair and looked around—at the world map on the wall and the picture of Albert Einstein that Titus said they’d salvaged from the Science Department when they were remodeling. I thought about a noisy Bryce House. All I could hear was the ticking of the clock and the computer fans spinning. Where do the artists and writers of TMC discuss ideas? I wondered. I hear the English majors whispering behind me in class, and their whispers tell me they’ve talked things over already. So they must talk somewhere. What about creative expression? Where do the writers and poets express themselves and get read? Master Minds hasn’t been published in a year. What has the artistic community of The Master’s College done in the meantime?

Then and there, I decided that as much as it depended on me, Master Minds would be that creative outlet. Master Minds’ motto is “Read, Write, Think, Discuss, Create.” I want this newsletter to live up to that motto. As a result of reading Master Minds, I want people to think and discuss and be inspired to write and create their own art.

Before I left the Writing Room, I whispered a prayer that Anna, Debbie and I would be useful and honor God in our editing this semester. And then I added to myself with a smile, “Maybe this is the beginning of something new.”

So, writers and artists of The Master’s College, come out of the woodwork. Feel free to express yourself and glorify God in that expression. If He has given you a gift, don’t hesitate to use it.