If all the teapots at Wellesley were laid end to end, the results would stagger anyone observing the Waban Wonderland.

The Pourer of Tea symbol in America can be construed to mean the community leader, the chairman of the neighborhood social service organizations--in short, the successful professional man's successful hausfrau. If the young lady is graduated from Wellesley College without this social leadership urge, she has no one to credit or blame but herself.

The urge seems to be produced by a conscious desire to learn, a sub-conscious desire to mature, and an unconscious desire to double-cross the double standard. It leads the Wellesley woman to take herself and her role in life pretty seriously. It led a graduate at a recent New York meeting of alumnae to proclaim that in the troubled world today "Wellesley must take the leadership ..."

Miss Margaret Clapp, the small, soft-spoken, and pleasant lady who has been President of the College since July 1949, is somewhat more restrained in her opinion of the role of Wellesley in the world. Admitting that "the career of a majority of women is homemaking and bringing up children," Miss Clapp is fully aware of the different immediate objectives of a man's and a woman's quest for education.

"But the final objective--the search for success--is the same. A man wants a successful career; for a woman, success is something far more difficult than making money. The woman is, after all, the maker of the family."

The President expresses pride in the "sound common sense" of her girls, and believes that it is the liberal, no-specific-career education of the institution that molds the Wellesley character. But the Wellesley social leader does not crawl out of a general education book. Probably the only words used more frequently than "Harvard" and "hairdo" on the campus are "tradition and honor," "honor and tradition."

"Tradition" dies not necessarily imply the colorful fluttering of Tree Day or the hub-bub of hooprolling, but a certain pattern of conformity that the Wellesley girl, in spite of her acclamation of freedom, slips into until the habit becomes a part of the responsibility.

The aspects of this Wellesleyite personality range from, in most cases, a strictly formalized dating relationship to community social graces practiced among the girls themselves. No young man in his right mind calls an attractive Wellesley girl less than two or three weeks in advance for a weekend date. The days of "running over to see the girl next door" are past, and cut-throat competition between most of the men's colleges of the northeast keep the desirable Wellesleyite--and so many of them are--in a furor of knitting crimson, orange, green, and blue socks.

The Formality Terrifies

The simplest forms of dating have become terrifyingly formal under the Wellesley system. With a few fortunate exceptions, almost any date becomes an occasion, and the gentleman in question often leaves town with a well-scrutinized feeling. Senior Class President Meredith Cushman, writing an advice column in a recent national magazine, said "Guests should remember they are one display. After a prom, the post-weekend discussions may go on for two or three weeks."

Certainly none of this tradition does Wellesley differ from a number of other girl's colleges, although most other schools with an equal degree of formalized social intercourse are located with far less proximity to ready, willing, and relatively able suitors. The "game girl" is not rare, but she is less predominant than in many other schools--the Meadows, in all its antiseptic and costly glory, is still the most popular spot on the Turnpike. In a recent poll a "high-heel night-in-Boston date" actually finished ahead of "a college weekend or fraternity party."

The Wellesley Tea Party

The formal relationship with males, however, only molds a small part of the Wellesley character. A greater part grows out of relationships between student and faculty, student and administration, and between the girls themselves.

Astounding quantities of insipid British blends pour out, of the Wellesley teapots every day. The faculty has teas for students. The students have teas for the faculty. The faculty and administration swap teas. Every dormitory has a weekly tea. Societies bring in new pledges through a system of "open" and "closed" teas. Teas vary in tone from the high-heeled formality of administrative, faculty, and alumnae gatherings to the lower echelon custom of assuming varying degrees of proximity to the floor.

But formal or informal, the sense of community responsibility in this college often makes the student a habitue of social intercourse above and beyond the call of duty.