Wilma Dykeman's Letters from Northwestern
May 12, 1939
TITLE: Wilma Dykeman's Letters from Northwestern – May 12, 1939
AUTHOR: Wilma Dykeman
PERMISSION TO PUBLISH: granted by her heirs
By the late spring of 1939, Wilma had almost finished her Junior year at Northwestern. She had settled into her new surroundings, which only months before had seemed exotically bathed in affluence and urbanity. On May 12, she wrote a two-part letter to her mother. Wilma penned the first part in the morning while “listening” to a lecture during psychology class:
Dearest Mother,
While my psychology professor delivers a little oration on the “Motor Theory ofThought” I’ll start a letter to you. He repeats horribly, so I’ll be safe in taking down every other five minutes.
Something wonderful happened yesterday. I only wish you’d have been here to share my joy. We had an assignment in acting class to take some character from a book and portray them in a scene wherein we followed their train of thought, acted out the part, etc. Well, I worked on mine really hard, and put things into it that I had never put in a piece of acting before – I tried to use all of my knowledge I’d learned. I did Scarlett O’Hara in a scene from Gone with theWind. [i] Can you imagine! Anyway, when I finished giving it yesterday the whole class just sat silent for a moment then started – and I’ve never been so happy in praise in my life! Miss Krause, the director, heard all the class first. Then she said, “Well, that was something to ring up the flag about!” If you just knew Miss Krause you’d know that that was enough to send you wild with joy – and don’t think it didn’t me! One of the girls after class asked if Miss Krause didn’t think I was courageous to take such a difficult thing. She replied yes, but that I’d done it all its worth.
Alvina Krause, an Instructor of Voice and Interpretation in Northwestern's School of Speech, would become a legendary teacher at Northwestern, training – among many others – Jennifer Jones, Charlton Heston, Patricia Neal, Willam Daniels, Richard Benjamin, Paula Prentiss, and Karen Black. She would tell students on the first day of class, “I will not tolerate stupidity and laziness. So long as you are willing to work and learn, you may stay. But if you aren’t, there are others willing to take your place.”[ii]
During the evening of May 12, 1939, Wilma completed her letter home:
The clock just now strikes 8 o’clock. I’m at a house taking care of some children for the evening; the couple have gone to the movies. I just got the kids to bed and sat down to this. It’s the first time I’ve cared for kids for ages, but my budget stands some reinforcing and soon, with exams coming, I won’t be able to [babysit] at all. I’ll pick up a bit tonight!
Today has been one of the most exciting days…I got back an acting notebook from Miss Krause today (something else wonderful about acting) and in it she wrote me a note that just bowled me over. She said in the past 2 years she had had 2 students who had had the same ambitions and difficulties I had. She said she didn’t see why I couldn’t make the third of this select group of “real” people, to make her proud. And that from now on my work should be carefully planned and every time I needed any advice or help – go to her!! Well, darling, the other 2 people she meant were practically the geniuses of N.U. People still rave about them! Can you imagine me with them, oh, my darling, if you knew what that meant, from Miss Krause, they say if you’re not outstanding she’ll leave you flat, but if she thinks you have something – she’ll go any length for you!!
One of the two previous students to whom Alvina Krause and Wilma referred was almost certainly Jennifer Jones, who enrolled at Northwestern as a drama major in 1936, then transferred in September of 1937 to New York’s American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Jones was nominated five times for the Academy Award, and won the Best Actress award in 1944 for “The Song of Bernadette.”
[i]The turnip scene, taken from the book. The movie version, featuring the turnip scene just before intermission, did not premier until 1940.
[ii] Northwestern Perspective, V.2, No. 4, Summer 1989, page 11.
