Vassar QuarterlyFALL 1983

Geography: a hands-on

approach to a pressured world

Also inside: special section

on the Sixties

CHINA

Drawingby

JosephineSiew-PhaikFoo’B5

The Great Wall, Beijing

The art and archaeology of

the People’s Republic

1-21 October 1985

with an optional three-day extension to Taipei

Transportation (China/California): about $1,350Land expenses: $2,400-$2,600

Moving from North to South, the tour will travel from Beijing (fivedays) to Xian (three days) to Luoyang (two days) throughZhengzhou to Shanghai, Hangzhou, Suzhou, and Hong Kong.

Among the treasures we have asked to see are museums, institutes,

palaces, tombs, pagodas, caves, temples, and the terra-cottaarmy of

Qin Shi Huang-di. Guides on the trip will be Yin-Lien Chin, pro-

fessor of Chinese at Vassar, and Elinor Pearlstein ’73, assistant

curator of the Department of Oriental Art at the Cleveland Museum

ofArt. A detailed brochure will be mailed in January 1984, For more

information, write: AAVC in China, c/o AAVC, Alumnae House,Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

Important notice to our readers

We are happy to announce that the AAVC

board has voted to return the Vassar

Quarterly to full circulation all four

issues mailed free to all alumnae/i. The new

policy will become effective next year in

fall 1984. We thank you for your good

nature during the period of limited circula-

tion, and look forward to serving everyone

regularly once again. The editor

Eleanor Roosevelt Conference

scheduled for fall 1984

October 11, 1984, will mark the 100th an-

niversary of the birth of Eleanor Roosevelt.

As a tribute to this remarkable woman,

Vassar College and the Eleanor Roosevelt

Institute are planning a national and inter-

national conference October 13-16, 1984, at

the college. Alumnae/i are invited to at-

tend.

The conference will emphasize five broad

issues which were of major concern to Mrs.

Roosevelt: economic and social policy,economic opportunity for special groups,

civil rights, the quest for peace in a nuclear

age, and human rights and international

organization. Conference organizers are in-

viting papers from scholars in a wide variety

of fields and also from persons with prac-

tical experience in government, public

policy, civil rights, labor, international rela-

tions, and the woman’s movement. In ad-

dition to the formal presentations and dis-

cussions, the conference will offer a major

commemorative convocation on Sunday

morning, October 14th, in honor of Mrs.

Roosevelt’s birth; also planned are a varietyof activities aimed at recapturing her life

and influences through photographs, film,

drama, and the reminiscences of those who

worked with her. Arrangements will be

made for participants to visit the Franklin

Delano Roosevelt Library and Museum,

and Eleanor Roosevelt’s home, Val-Kill.

The organizers would be interested in hear-

ing from alumnae/i who knew Mrs.

Roosevelt or have special insight into her

life and career. Please write; John F. Sears,

Director, Eleanor Roosevelt Centennial

Conference, Box 186, Vassar College,

Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

Vassar QuarterlyFALL 1983

VOL. LXXX I NO. 1

Features

7 Around the world in 80 ways

Across the country, college geography departments are closing; but at Vassar, for

the first time in years, there’s a distinct geography major with courses that branchinto urban planning, computer science, and literary analysis. Judith Saunders tellswhat’s being taught, and what the field at large is up to.

12 Neutral states

Portraits of Vassar faculty by Mathieu Roberts ’83

16 Learning from the Sixties

Through movies, plays, and books, Americans are looking back to that turbulent

decade, but what significance do they draw from the view? Margaret Beyer ’70

discusses the changing social attitudes of 125 alumnae/i who entered Vassar in the

Sixties; Carole Merritt ’62 speaks of her journey toward her African-American

heritage; Michael S. Kimmel ’72, Leonard Steinhorn ’77, and Colleen Cohen (of

Vassar’s anthropology department) comment on the teaching of college courses

about the period; and Brian Rutter ’83 muses on its legacy.

30 Of sex, pearls, and the languages of time

The class is 1933. “The dean, in her opening address, told us that we were the

smallest class ever to be admitted . . . and hence the most highly selected. . . .I hardly listened, being so filled with the pride and glory of belonging to the

very best class in the very best college in America,” Mary McCarthy ’33 has written

of her first days as a Vassar freshman in 1929. In this issue, another ’33er,

playwright Lucille Fletcher Wallop, describes the quality of life at a Vassar of

legend.

Departments

2 Omnium Gatherum

33 Vassar People

34 Campus Notes

36 Get in touch — Vassar clubs around the world

38 Books

39 Person Place & Thing40 Class Notes

The last page

Blessings by Lisa Johnson Fleck ’66

Cover: Photo: Georgette Weir

1

Omnium GatherumExtra!

The Shakespeare Garden lives! The U.S.

Olympic Hockey Team plays Vassar! West

Point lusts — for Walker! These stories and

more can be found in our new “Campus

Notes” section, inaugurated with this issue.

Turn to page 34.

Vassar QuarterfyEditorial Staff

Editor

Mindy Aloff ’69

Assistant editor

Georgette Weir

Designer

Abigail Sturges ’66

Copy editor

Geraldine Herron

Books editor

Susan Osborn ’77

Quarterly Committee

Anne S. Alexander ’67, Ruth Brine ’4l

Fred R. Brooks, Jr., Elizabeth Davis ’6l

William W. GiffordFrances Aaron Hess ’53 (ex officio)Sally Kirkland ’34, Kathleen Holman Langan ’46

Dana Little ’62, Judith Woracek Mullen ’59

Nancy Newhouse ’5B, David L. Schalk

Liz Wexler Quinlan ’59 (AAVC board liaison)

Board of Directors of AAVC

President

Frances Aaron Hess ’53

First vice-presidentAnne Morris Macdonald ’42

Second vice-presidentAlix Gould Myerson ’7l

SecretaryMarilyn Palmer Helmholz ’6O

Treasurer

Fay Gambee ’62

Fund chr.

Laura Holt Douglass ’6B

House committee chr.

Beatrice Meyer Wilson ’36

Nominating committee chr.

Frances Thompson Clark ’53

Publicity director

Liz Wexler Quinlan ’59

Directors-at largeEmily Richardson Hewitt ’4B

Kim Landsman ’74

Mary-Dixon Sayre Miller ’44

James Mitchell ’75

Sally Lyman Rheinfrank ’63

Elizabeth Mills Schilling ’42

Nora Ann Wallace ’73

AA VC trustees

Mary Benjamin Arnstein ’47

Georgia Sims Carson ’52

Alice Frey Emerson ’53

Billie Davis Gaines ’5B

Eugenie Aiguier Havemeyer ’5l

Margot Bell Woodwell *57

AAVC Staff

Executive director (also AA VC board member)

Polly Messinger Kuhn ’47

Associate directors

Mary Meeker Gesek ’5BTerri O’Shea ’76

Assistant for recent classes

Deborah Macfarlan ’B2

The Vassar Quarterly, USPS 657-080, is published in thefall, winter, spring, and summer by the Alumnae andAlumni of Vassar College (AAVC). POSTMASTER:Send address changes to Record Room, Alumnae

House, Box 19, Poughkeepsie, NY 12601. Second class

postage paid at Poughkeepsie, NY. Yearly subscriptions$7. Single copies $2. Unsolicited manuscripts will not bereturned unless accompanied by a self-addressed,

stamped envelope, Copyright © 1983 by AAVC.

Typeset and printed in Poughkeepsie, NY, by Maar

Printing Service. ISSN: 0042-2851

August 27, 1983: for King

Getting out of the air-conditioned bus

which we boarded at 5 a.m. in Mt. Kisco,New York onto a large parking lot be-

hind Washington’s R.F.K. stadium, I’m hit

by intense, midmorning heat, and suddenly

feel that I’m stepping ashore onto foreignterrain. I set out to follow the directions to

the subway, which will take me and my

companions to the Smithsonian, where we

will join the march. But I soon find there’s

really no need for directions; our con-

tingent is immediately in the march, or,

anyway, the masses, as bus after bus dis-

gorges 50 more people at a time The

assembly so far is mostly White, just as the

group in our bus had been. The phrase

“bussed in” flashes through my mind, and

I smile. Have I been bussed in to a Blacks’

event, to give it a more balanced look?

Well, in away, that is the story, except that

Dr. King was my hero, too, and, as the

T-shirt parading in front of me proclaims,

“I still have a dream.”

This is called a march, but it’s actually a

gathering of the tribes, a celebration.

Washington was built for such events. It ab-

sorbs a crowd like a sponge: one park alone

connects directly to a mall which leads to

the area of the Washington Monument.

Once out of the subway, we join the amor-

phous pageant of balloons, posters, signs,

and banners. The messages proclaim

various identities, philosophies, and, some-

times, senses of humor. “Middlefield,

Conn, for Jobs, Peace and Freedom.”

“Vermont Still Has A Dream,” with a

green outline of mountains. An enormous

banner of purple silk, the size of a tennis

net, is held high “Presbyterians Want

Peace.” We’re part of the nuclear freeze

wing. “Dr. King Didn’t Dream About MX

Missiles” a sign reads. “Antarctica Wants

A Freeze” says a poster, with penguins

drawn around the edges.

By now we’re well under way. The blaring

music of the assembly area has faded into

the various noises of people walking along.It’s at last a mixed population, Black and

White. I almost decide that it’s a middle-

aged population as well, when a young

couple go by with their one-year-old in the

father’s backpack carrier, the mother

hovering with an umbrella to shield the

baby from the strong sun. With so many

bodies, the pace is unhurried. Then a chant

from a group behind us sweeps up and car-

ries along everyone’s voice. “One, two,

three, four. We don’t want a nuclear war.”

There are loud, rhythmic admonishments

to President Reagan. A snatch of “We Shall

Overcome” floats in from the distance, but

it’s pitched too high for general singing and

fades away. As it does I hear, close at hand,Dr. King’s legendary speech of 1963 being

delivered live. On the curb stands a middle-

aged Black man with a megaphone, recitingthe text. He has the Georgia accent, the tim-

ing, the cadence. He has memorized it with

all the pauses, the rushes, the inflections of

the original. He’s having a wonderful time,

speaking his piece, paying his homage, and

dreaming.

We aren’t yet anywhere near the Lincoln

Memorial, where the speakers planned for

the day are to stand, but one of the people

I’ve traveled with admits that she has em-

physema and must rest. We join other folks

under a tree and look out on the acres of

humanity. A Black woman beside me

strikes up a conversation. She lives in

Washington, and, yes, she was here 20 years

ago today. She asks why I’ve come such a

distance if I can’t even hear the speeches?

To swell the crowd, I explain. To show that

I share the dream. She seems pleased.

Polly Messinger Kuhn ’47

Polly Kuhn is executive director of AAVC.

Students, aid, and the draft

It was like being back in the days of the

Vietnam War. Banners with slogans were

hung. Petitions and pamphlets circulated

around the room. Strains of antiwar songs

filtered in from a distant guitar, and a stu-

dent sat at a table asking for donations. On

September 30, 1983, Vassar students,

faculty, and administrators rallied together

in the College Center to protest an amend-

ment that brings to light issues of draft and

registration.

Signed into law by President Reagan on

September 8, 1982, the Solomon Amend-

ment denies draft nonregistrants federal

loans, grants, and work study assistance, as

2 VQ Fall 1983

well as participation in federal job pro-

grams. Each Vassar student will have to

sign a Selective Service Compliance form

before being eligible for a guaranteed stu-

dent loan. Angry at such a stipulation for

students in need, men and women here have

mobilized under the leadership of Michael

Widman ’B6 and Maggie Jones ’B4 to pro-

test the law that threatened the course of

students’ education.

Speaking at the rally to an enthusiastic

crowd, President Smith acknowledged that

she’d already written letters of opposition,on the trustees’ recommendation, to the

U.S. Education Department. She protested

that the amendment is discriminatory, be-

cause it imposes a penalty on a selective

group of students, namely, needy, college-

age males, and that the amendment is un-

fair, because the penalties are imposed

without due process of law. Why, she

asked, should educational institutions be

required to act as enforcement officers for

the Selective Service? Neither the trustees

nor the president has taken a position on

the merit of draft registration per se.

Sidney Plotkin, assistant professor of

political science, accused the government of

asking for compliance to the nonexistent

draft out of a desire for coercion, rather

than loyalty to the United States. “The

Solomon Amendment is about war and pre-

paring for war,” he said at the rally. “I’d

call it legalized extortion.” Before receiving

a standing ovation, he struck a sentimental

chord. “Vietnam taught numerous lessons

about power,” he said, “and perhaps the

most important was never to keep quiet in

the face of power, never to suspend rea-

soned skepticism, never to permit patriot-

ism to be reduced to a war cry. Today’s

protest is part of that continuing lesson and

of a longer tradition of questioning power

when it seems to abandon reason.”

Mr. Plotkin’s oration seemed to shock

students into thinking about the moral and

social implications of war. “It was

Reagan’s way of quieting the conserv-

atives,” said Richard Koreto ’B4 of the

amendment. “The first priority is to stop

the war the registration’s for,” said Eric

Left: Bringing itall back home again. A

decal reading “Stop the Draft, ”

with peace

symbol, was affixed to a campus traffic signthisfall. The All College Dining Center is at

the right.

Bove ’B6, president of the Vassar Pro-

gressive Union.

Snatches of talk drifted through the

crowd.• “Nobody’s even going to care if we’re

all against it.”• “If Russia started rolling its tanks, I’d

go and hope many others would.”• “It’s a good way to get a free career.”

• “Maybe if the U.S. was involved in a

‘just, declared’ waragainst Nicaragua or El

Salvador, the draft might be important.”• “If we don’t have enough people to

fight a war, we should stop and ask why.”Some people here feel the imminence of

nuclear war. Explaining why students might

fear complying with draft registration laws,Diana J. Wynne ’B4 said, “If you sign up

for the draft, you’re signing up for some-

thing you don’t believe in or signing up

for your own death.” She compared

today’s anxieties and fears about war with

the ideals of the past. “We’re the shell-

shocked generation,” she said. “We’re all

afraid of it. Nobody likes to die.”

Although the rally excluded any conserv-

ative' arguments, Abram Feuerstein ’B4

editor of the recently founded conservative

magazine, the Vassar Spectator [see Sum-

mer 1983 Quarterly] reflected: “It’s the

concept of the draft, not pieces of paper

shuffling from Washington, which so many

of the students at Vassar object to.” Mr.

Feuerstein essentially argued that selective

obedience to the law isn’t practical, adding,

“It’s those righteous people who are pro-

testing the amendment who are supposed to

be educated.” He continued, “The govern-

ment always puts stipulations on the money

it gives out, and the only way to be free of

those restrictions is to be free of funding.”

He believes that it’s the duty of students to

comply with registration laws, if they do

receive federal assistance, just as “collegeshave to comply with affirmative action laws

though they might find them distasteful and

unconstitutional.”

The Solomon Amendment rally also

brought into focus the issue of women in

the military, for, according to the regula-

tions, all students, including females, are

required to sign the Compliance form to be

eligible for financial aid. It’s hard for many

women to imagine being in the armed

forces, although some believe it’s unfair for

GeorgetteWeir

Solomon says:

how Vassar is required to proceed

According to a rally address by Michael P.

Fraher, Vassar’s director of financial aid, at

that time about 120 male and female

students (a number much reduced since)had yet to return their Selective Service

Compliance forms to his office. “Given the

uncertainty of students having received the

forms due to summer vacations and the

amount of information sent to students

during the first weeks of school, we are of-

fering these students another opportunityto respond,” he said. “If they do not com-

plete the form and return it withinthe next

30 days then there are two steps that will be

taken. Disbursements for students scheduled

to receive Title IV funds will be held up un-

til the student complies by providing us

with the form. [Title IV funds include Pell

Grants, Supplemental Educational Oppor-tunity Grants, National Direct Student

Loans, and College Work-Study earnings.]

For students whose Guaranteed Student

Loan or Parent Loan for UndergraduateStudents has been certified, or disbursed,

failure to provide us with the Selective Ser-

vice Compliance Form means that the col-

lege will be required to notify the Secretaryof Education and the student’s lender that

the student has not complied. The lender is

then required to place the student into re-

payment status with respect to the disburse-

ment made for the 83/84 academic year.”He added that should Vassar find dis-

crepancies between the information

students provide on Compliance forms and

on other official records, the college is re-

quired to notify the Secretary about them as

well.

Mr. Fraher said that he did not know

whether Vassar would follow the lead of

some colleges in offering institutional

assistance to replace lost Title IV assistance

for students who do not return the Com-

pliance form. He did propose that such ac-

tion might weaken the argument “that the

regulation is discriminatory and adversely

affects the ability of all students to secure

funds for their education just to net a few

nonregistrants for Selective Service.” He

also noted that Title IV funds will soon be

under Congressional review. “What kind of

signal,” he asked, “do institutions send to

Congress regarding the need for continued,

if not increased, funding of Title IV, if we

are able to replace those funds for students

who fail to comply with the regulation?”M.A.

3

Omnium Gatherum

women to be excluded. Said Karen Gifford

’B4, member of the Peace Studies Group:“For everything we’ve worked for [in the

women’s movement] for so many years, we

can’t afford to be left out of the draft.”

Ms. Wynne agreed that “women have made

progress, but not in the military.” She con-

tinued: “Women who want to do combat

duty shouldn’t be denied the chance ... es-

pecially in a highly technical army as the

one today. More and more people aren’t in

the trenches.” Mr. Bove said that in today’s

military “it’s just a question of scientific

training, not of pure physical strength.”Mr. Feuerstein took a different view: “The

role of women in this society is to nurture

and protect it, not destroy it. The idea of

the draft being mandatory for men and

women is revolutionary.”

Revolutionary? In the short week follow-

ing the rally, the student body seemed to

change from an uncaring, uninformed,silent majority to a cohesive, emotional,

force of resistance. President Smith ap-

plauded those determined students who are

willing to unite and fight against what theyperceive as injustice. “Activism,” Ms.

Smith explained at the rally, “as it is en-

couraged at colleges like Vassar, begins with

education. Be willing to take action ap-

propriate to your beliefs, but remember

that we must also be willing to take the con-

sequences of the action.” It will be interest-

ing to see how many students continue to be

activists as the academic work of the term

increases. Valerie Silverman ’B4

Valerie Silverman, an English major, hopesto work in public relations.

Chemical high

Now rising in the science quad, Vassar’s new Seeley G. Mudd Chemistry Building is

seen from the ground floor of Olmsted biology hall. The $6.9 million Mudd building is

expected to be ready for use by fall 1984.

Letter from the Bermuda Triangle

As I watch the leftover chili slip off the

galley counter and splatter the starboard

settee berth, a sleeping crew member, the

cabin sole, the teak bulkhead, and half the

navigation station, I decide that cooking on

an offshore race is a hell of away to get to

Bermuda. On deck, the watch struggleswith a 25-knot gust that has crept up from

behind; down below, 1 try to keep the rest

of the galley from following the chili: dirty

lunch dishes, soup for the night watch, gar-

bage, forks, knives.

After cleaning up the mess, I go on deck

to sit on the stern pulpit and peel carrots

over the side. The peels are draped all over

the Jubilaeum’s transom and I ignore com-

ments from the owner about having his

yacht arrive in Bermuda looking like a side-

walk vegetable stand.

It’s about 600 miles and four-and-a-half

days from Marion, Massachusetts, to the

tiny British island stuck out in the middle of

nowhere, Atlantic Ocean. Despite the

skepticism of the more seasoned passage-

makers on board, we’re charging throughthe Gulf Stream with nary a hint of heavyweather. Most crossings during the Ber-

muda Race have been punctuated by big

seas, high winds, and cold bologna sand-

wiches. We’ve had relatively easy sailing on

this race, so meals are more extravagant.While the omelettes were burnt this morn-

ing, last night’s chicken breasts in white

wine received kudos from the deck apes. I

spent three days before the start of the race

stocking Jubilaeum with supplies from

Oreo cookies and fresh fruit to filet mignonand vitamin pills, only to discover that the

six strapping men and Queene Flooper (’73),the other woman aboard, ate like flyingfish. All they wanted was plenty of liquidsto offset the hot sun diet soda, lemon-

ade, fruit juice, beer.

Cooking offshore requires the organiza-tional skills of a field marshal and the dex-

terity of a tightrope walker. For the past

couple of days, I’ve fought a losing battle

against a mounting pile of dirty, styrofoam

dishes which clog up the small sink. I’ve

managed, however, without damage to my-

self, to dodge U.F.O.s (Unexpected Flying

Objects), and to pull a pan full of grease-

popping chicken out of the gimbaled 75-

pound stove while it swung like a pendulumto right itself against the yacht’s motion.

I’ve also learned to stagger around getting a

meal ready on less than four hours sleep.

This 47-foot yacht is by no means spar-

tan: it has every gadget known to the

Galloping Gourmet, including a trash com-

pactor, a Dust Buster, and a microwave,

currently housing a gooey chocolate cake.

The galley is almost like the kitchen in my

apartment, except everything’s heeled over

at a 15-degree angle.

Between cooking and cleaning sessions, I

sit on the cockpit coaming next to the

helmsman and look out over the ocean at

an empty horizon. I keep watch for any-

thing unusual: a school of whales,dolphins, flying saucers. (We’re in the Ber-

muda Triangle, after all.) After staring at

our wake for a while, I can understand whysomeone would become so mesmerized with

Shane Mitchell ’79, at the helm

4 VQ Fall 1983

the infinite motion that he’d simply decide

to jump overboard.

Several sonic booms bounce off the water

as the Concorde heads back to Kennedy.

It’s a terrible, tearing noise that rocks

across miles of open ocean, reminding me

that it’s nearly impossible, even out here, to

get away from the frantic human hive.

At 1700 hours I’ve got to head back

down below to get dinner ready. If we don’t

get captured by aliens or sucked into

another time zone, we should arrive in Ber-

muda by day after tomorrow. I can’t wait.

The crew gets to buy me dinner.

Shane Mitchell ’79

Shane Mitchell is an editor at Motor Boat-

ing & Sailing magazine, and spends a great

deal of time messing around on boats,

much to the surprise of everyone who

knows her. Jubilaeum reached Bermuda

22nd out of a fleet of 102 yachts, and each

crew member managed to gain five pounds

on the way.

Flight 7 as seen, barely,from Russia

Lisses, France

During the commotion over KAL Flight 7,1

happened to be traveling in the Soviet

Union. I would like to describe what I went

through in a struggle to obtain information.

On Sept. 1, the Russians shot down the

airliner, but I first learned of it Sept. 5.

During those four days I was in Yerevan,

capital of the Armenian Republic, just 40

miles from the Turkish border. True, I

speak neither Russian nor Armenian. But

no one in my Intourist hotel, which housed

English-speaking tourists and multilingual

guides, mentioned the incident in my

presence.

On the afternoon of Sept. 5, in Moscow,

I overheard Radio Moscow while shopping

in a hard-currency store. What drew my at-

tention was the announcer’s mention of a

U.S. spy plane that he said had entered

Soviet airspace. I knew that both super-

powers play this sort of game; on Cape

Cod, in Massachusetts, the public is well

aware of the surprise visits that Aeroflot

makes over Otis Air Force Base.

But the Russian announcer’s tone was

striking. He compared the Reagan adminis-

tration to Hitler’s regime. He said the

Reagan administration had committed a

crime comparable to the Nazis’ sacrifice of

women and children in biological experi-

ments.

I needed to know the meaning of those

slanderous remarks. I called United Press

International and was told that a South

Korean passenger plane had been shot

down, 269 persons were dead, Canada no

longer accepted Aeroflot on its runways,

and there would be sanctions against the

Soviet Union.

That was a lot to learn withoutwarning. I

called the press office at the U.S. Embassyand was invited over to see a tape of

Secretary of State George Shultz and read a

transcript of President Reagan’s speech. So

now I knew.

On Sept. 6, as far as I could tell, the

Soviet people still did not know that the

plane was Korean and that 269 persons were

dead. Not until Sept. 9 did some of these

details become public.

One night, I talked about it with a

woman from Moscow; we argued about

whether it was a spy plane or a passenger

plane. We argued until I showed her a

transcript of Mr. Reagan’s speech. It was

the first time in her life she had read a docu-

ment slandering her government.

Our debate then focused on the ethics

and morality of humanity. She agreed that,

although the aircraft probably did partici-

pate in some kind of military operation,

there were other solutions.

“I feel bad,” she said. “We made a

mistake.”

There were many mistakes made during

that week. The press had already discussed

the first one; the Russians could have

forced the Korean plane down. Another

mistake was not admitting the truth to the

Soviet people. During the week of Sept. 1 to

Sept. 8, there was no place in the world I’d

rather have been than Russia. I learned

firsthand how difficult it was to obtain in-

formation. And I realize how many of my

friends in the United States don’t under-

stand how lucky they are.

Scott K. Wilder ’B3

Mr. Wilder traveled to the U.S.S.R. with

Thomas Krasne Levine ’B2. This first ap-

peared as a letter to the International Her-

ald Tribune; it is reprinted by permission.

Organizers of “Project 1984,” the next

Dean’s All-CollegeSymposium, are pleasedto announce that the Reverend William

Sloan Coffin will deliver a symposium lec-

ture on Tuesday evening, next March 27th.

An outspoken clergyman and social com-

mentator, Mr. Coffin will address issues of

morals, ethics, and religion in the modern

age. All alumnae/i are invited to attend.

“Project 1984” will take place on the

Vassar campus, March 26-30, 1984/ For

more information, please write Minerva L.

Tantoco [’Bs], Vassar College, P. O. Box

1848, Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

Logo: Claudia Mauner 'B3

Tower transmissions

When the Quarterly was the Vassar

Alumnae Magazine, appearing five times a

year instead of four, it carried a column

about campus life and ongoing debates

called “From the Ivory Tower.” In a

quarterly, which sometimes doesn’t reach

its readers until weeks after it’s mailed, any

topical column is imperiled with ir-

relevance. Still, in response to many

readers’ requests to be brought up to some

date on campus issues, we’regoing to take a

whack at the job. If this attempt seems

useful, we’ll make it a regular feature. We

welcome your response.

One of the leading topics this fall is af-

firmative action: Has Vassar done all it

could to recruit Black students, faculty, and

other workers? If not, how could it take

more aggressive steps to reach potential

Black applicants, and how could it speed up

the search process? The subject leaped into

the limelight in October with the release by

the Black Caucus to campus and area news-

papers of a report that charges the college

with negligence in the pursuit of equal op-

portunity policies it espoused in 1970. The

Black Caucus is an alliance made up of six

faculty members (one of whom is Oriental)

and an administrator. In the main, it ad-

dresses issues relating to the quality of the

Vassar experience for Black students,

although its members make the point that a

college population which is successfully

diverse in racial backgrounds provides a

broadened education for everyone.

The Black Caucus’s report is not new.

Prepared privately by the Caucus in 1980,

and then distributed to a few members of

5

OmniumGatherum

the administration, it assesses the previous

ten-year period, the decade immediately

following the publication of the “Report of

the Joint Ad Hoc Committee on the Educa-

tion of Minority Students,” commonly

known as “The Catlin Report.” That

report, adopted by faculty and college

trustees in the wake of perceptions aroused

by a Black students’ sit-in of Main in the

fall of 1969, states: “Vassar College sup-

ports the national goal of educational op-

portunity for all people and intends to do

all that it can within its abilities as a liberal

arts college and its resources to further that

goal.” It also says that “among the several

minorities in this country whose educa-

tional opportunities have been limited, the

Black minority at Vassar College shall have

priority over other minorities for the fore-

seeable future,” and that “Black member-

ship shall be increased in every part of the

Vassar College community students,faculty, staff, administration, and

trustees.”

By 1980, the Black Caucus concluded,there had been an “appalling lack of pro-

gress in the area of affirmative action over

the past decade.” It cited “approximately

six full-time and three part-time Black

faculty members out of a total. . . teaching

staff of approx. 292. ”In 1983, there are

six full- and two part-time Black* faculty in a

group of 300 or so, including 197 full-time.

Currently, there are two Blacks in admin-

istration, and the clerical/maintenance staff

is roughly five percent Black.

Caucus members have told the Quarterly

and various student journals that they de-

cided to release the 1980 report now be-

cause of their growing impatience at the

lack of improvement in the number of

Blacks on campus during the past three

years. The climate for their decision was

lively: the campus was already energized bythe news in September that of the 50 Vassar

faculty just hired not one was Black, and

that the number of Black students who ap-

plied to Vassar, and who enrolled, has been

decreasing over the past several years. (In a

report on the admission of racial minorities,

distributed to the Vassar community last

February by the admission office, the

figures were especially low for Black male

enrollment, a cause of universal concern

here: two Black males each in the classes of

’B6 and ’B7. Of Black women, 28 enrolled in

’B6 and 23 in ’87.) Too, people are still

talking about the assessment in the first

edition of The Black Student’s Guide to

Colleges, published in 1982, that Vassar is

“a difficult place for blacks to adjust to.”

“Vassar people are achievers and the transi-

tion to college academics for those who are

less well-prepared can be difficult,” it says.

“One respondent notes that there is a

‘significant attrition rate among blacks

males in particular’ and attributes this rate

to the tough academic situation.”

Public response to the Black Caucus has

come from Dean of the College H. Patrick

Sullivan. “The problem in our faculty and

student recruiting is not a lack of in-

stitutional affirmative action, nor is it the

presence of institutional racism,” said Mr.

Sullivan in a statement prepared for the stu-

dent paper Unscrewed. “It is in great

measure the failure of our society to realize

the goals of equal access for all to quality

education. It is also the general decline of

liberal learning in favor of vocational train-

ing. Our affirmative action policies and

procedures are strong.” Mr. Sullivan also

cited statistics. He noted that an article in

the New York Times Magazine last May

told of a 12 percent drop in 1983 freshmen

among the 42 member colleges of the

United Negro College Fund, “while among

Ivy League schools, Cornell fell from 198 to

178 Black freshmen and Harvard from 126

to 97.” He continued: “Of all the Ph.D.’s

awarded in the U.S.A. last year only 3.8

percent wereawarded to Blacks or about

1,200. Of that number about one-third, or

400, took their degrees in fields which

Vassar has in its curriculum, but probably

only 60 percent of that number sought

academic positions. That means that some

3,200 colleges and universities in this

country were, perhaps, in competition for

about 250 Black Ph.D. graduates.”

Even so, says the Black Caucus, Vassar

could be more effective through tighter

management of its recruiting tactics. And

Mary Janney ’42, chair of the board of

trustees (two of whom are Black), was

quoted by the Misc as saying that the

[decrease in the Black campus population]

“seems to be a nationwide trend among col-

leges our size,” yet “I’m not convinced

we’ve tried everything we can try.” Another

(White) board member was quoted as say-

ing that this problem “is the highest priority

the trustees have.” It is unclear at press

time what sort of action will be taken on six

recommendations the Black Caucus made to

the trustees in October regarding the

formulation of “a comprehensive Affirma-

tive Action Plan and Program.”

The reaction of the Black students seems

to be one of mixed feelings. “I would

recommend Vassar even with the unrealistic

social environment caused by having so

many black women and so few men,”

Toresa Tanks ’BS, president of the Students

Afro-American Society, told the Misc in

September. “I know I have grown here.”

M.A.

College trustees, 1983/4

In response to readers’ requests, once each

year the Quarterly publishes a list of Vassar

College trustees. The year in roman after

each class is the date of expiration for that

trustee’s term.

Mary Benjamin Arnstein ’47, 1987

Georgia Sims Carson ’52, 1985

Maura J. Abeln Casebeer ’77, 1985

George H. Chittenden, 1984

June Jackson Christmas, ’45-4, 1986

Judith Russell Driscoll ’4O, 1985

Alice Frey Emerson ’53, 1985

Billie Davis Gaines ’5B, 1984

Eugenie Aiguier Havemeyer ’5l, 1987

Harold H. Healy, Jr., 1985

JoanE. Morgenthau Hirschhorn ’45-4, 1985

Mary Draper Janney ’42, 1985

James C. Kautz, 1987

Peter Millones, 1984

Helen Maguire Muller ’45-4, 1987

George D. O’Neill, 1986

John R. Petty, 1984

Francis F. Randolph, Jr., 1984

Kathleen Tener Smith ’65, 1987

Virginia B. Smith, ex officioNorton Stevens, 1986

Frances Prindle Taft ’42, 1985

Richard E. VanDemark ’77, 1984

John Wilkie, emeritus

Margot Bell Wood well ’57, 1986

Observers:

Frances Aaron Hess ’53, 1986

President, AA VC

Maurice Edelson ’B5

President, Vassar Student Association

6 VQ Fall 1983

Around the worldin 80 ways

by Judith Saunders

From Landsat to the literature of landscape, geographers are looking at

space from a lot of surprising angles.

Left: “A Map of the British Empire in America with the French and Spanish

Settlements adjacent thereto, ”published by Henry Popple, London, 1733. Part of the

Lasker Collection, donated to the Vassar College library by Loula Lasker ’O9, this map

has been described by experts as the finest and largest map of North America engraved

up to the time of itspublication. It was used to settle a dispute between President Franklin

Roosevelt and his neighbor on the west shore of the Hudson River, Howland Spencer,over the right to use the name Krum Elbow. Popple’s map clearly marks the east bank

of the river ”Crum Elbow, ” indicating that President Roosevelt might use that name to

describe his estate at Hyde Park.

Right: A remote sensing image of New York City and Long Island, taken from a

Landsat Satellite, August 22, 1978.

Courtesy,VassarSpecialCollections

"Geography is the study ofplace, or space, in

the sense that history is the study of time. . . .The first question a geographer asks is

‘WHERE are things located?’ but even more

important is his concern with ‘WHY are they

located where they are?’”

National Office of the Association

of American Geographers

The Vassar catalogue for 1983/84 an-

nounces a change in curriculum which rep-

resents the culmination of a ten-year strug-

gle: students may now elect a major in

geography. .For approximately the pastdecade there has been no major program in

this subject, and interested students gen-

erally worked with an interdepartmental

concentration in geology-anthropology. Be-

tween 1932 and 1973, however, Vassar did

offer a major in geography, and so this

“new” major represents a reinstatement

rather than an innovation.

For several reasons geography has be-

come “a beleaguered discipline,” not onlyat Vassar but at colleges and universities

across the nation. According to an article

published last spring in the Chronicle of

Higher Education, some observers of the

national scene argue that the relativelysmall size of most geography departmentshas left them prey to the economic pres-

sures facing educational institutions today.

Others have suggested that the interdisci-

plinary nature of the field may make it dif-

ficult for geographers to sustain strong in-

stitutional identity. Geography embraces

such a wide range of specialties some

oriented toward the physical and natural

sciences, others toward sociological and

even literary methodologies that to out-

siders it sometimes appears a poorly defined

field of study. But in the furor generated bynationwide cutbacks in geography depart-

ments, increasingly strong and persuasive

arguments are being heard on behalf of this

unique and underappreciated subject. The

study of geography, its supporters main-

tain, can save American students from the

provincial and insulated view of the world

which threatens now to weaken their politi-cal, ecological, and cultural judgment.

Judith Saunders, formerly of the Vassar

English department, is now assistant aca-

demic dean at Marymount College in Tarry-

town, New York.

Geography at Vassar has for many years

shared housing and administration of its

program with the geology department. The

college currently employs two geographers,

Associate Professor Harvey Flad (full-time)

and Instructor Jo Margaret Mano (part-time), who try between them to provide stu-

dents with a realistic sense of the field’s

range. Both are excellent at kindling en-

thusiasm for the kinds of knowledge geog-

raphy embraces. “The center of the field is

the way we look at the world, spatially,

synergistically,” Ms. Mano explains. “We

look at the way the world works together,

how it all interacts. We take bits and pieces

from other disciplines and fit them to-

gether. We have no walls to our discipline.It’s exciting because you can change your

focus without changing your profession.”Mr. Flad emphasizes that study of geog-

raphy clearly “has relevance outside the

walls of academe.” “Students see its useful-

ness in the community, as well as its useful-

ness in the job market.” They are eager to

learn about specialties such as urban and

rural planning, and quick to perceive geog-

raphy as “something that is a real-world

program.” Thus geography satisfies stu-

dents’ desire to have an impact upon their

world an impact such as Mr. Flad him-

self achieved three years ago when he

worked on a document used by a group

protesting the construction of a nuclear

power plant in the Hudson Valley. Mr. Flad

successfully argued that the aesthetic and

cultural center of the landscape would be

destroyed if the power plant were built on

the selected site and, partly as a result of his

efforts, the Nuclear Regulatory Commis-

sion declined to issue the building permit.

This kind of real-life application, Mr. Flad

explains, is enormously important to

today’s undergraduates. Field work con-

tributes significantly to the study of

geography; theory and practice are never

far apart.

Both Mr. Flad and Ms. Mano are con-

cerned that the striking omission of geog-

raphy from the curriculum of secondary

schools in the United States has created “a

woefully ignorant set of young people,when it comes to knowledge of a place or,

indeed, almost everything about the rest of

the world.” As a result, however, many

students today are hungry to gain more pre-

cise knowledge about “the world at large.”At Vassar, for example, geography ad-

dresses environmental issues on a national

and international scale, teaching students

“how harsh we have been on the earth.”

Not only the natural environment itself is

studied, but also the results of man’s ac-

tivities on it, going back to prehistoric

times. The thrust of such study is never

purely historical or descriptive; it is also

creative and problem-solving. Students who

ask, “Can we learn to do things differ-

ently?” can be steered to a specialty such as

bio-geography, where geographers strive

for “a global view of ecosystems.” Here a

question like, “How many forests are there

making oxygen?” is followed by, “What

Jo Margaret Mono of the geography department before geology’s rock collection in Ely Hall

Ellen

Frankenstein’B4

8 VQ Fall 1983

will happen if we keep cutting more

down?”

Geography as a discipline is also very

much a part of the computer revolution,making use of new kinds of technology to

analyze census data, or to make maps. “If

you have the personnel and the equipment,”

says Mr. Flad, “you can really move off in

that direction.” Ms. Mano’s course in Re-

mote Sensing teaches students to employsophisticated equipment and analyticaltechniques, to interpret air photographs,and to construct images from data providedby satellites. As might well be imagined,professional opportunities for students

trained in geography are varied. Says Ms.

Mano, “In geography you’re constantlybeing trained to look at lots of angles, and

this is a valuable tool for any kind of

career.”

During the twentieth century, geography

has been a field characterized by consider-

able inner debate, which may help to ac-

count for its multidimensionality. Until the

fifties, according to Mr. Flad, it was very

much a descriptive science. In the fifties,

however, geographers began to emphasizethe manipulation of quantitative data. Theymeasured how phenomena change quantita-tively: urban growth, population move-

ments, the diffusion of ideas or informa-

tion. In the late Sixties some geographers

became very interested in social factors that

affect geographical movement; they ana-

lyzed such things as the influence of politics

and economics on the flow of wealth and

power. As an offshoot of this kind of in-

terest, a strong minority of socialist and

Marxist geographers emerged.

Since the late Seventies, geographers have

turned to problems and approaches which

link geography with literature and the arts.

They ask questions about the relationshipbetween a landscape and human percep-

tions of it, as preserved in paintings or liter-

ature. For instance, they might compare In-

dians’ perceptions of the Great Plains with

ranchers’ perceptions of it. Mr. Flad con-

siders this interaction between geography

and the arts to be the newest, most fertile,most forward-moving area of the field rightnow. Just a few years ago, he offered an in-

terdisciplinary course in the American

Culture Program at Vassar called “Ameri-

can Landscape,” which he conceived and

The study of geography, its supporters maintain, can save American

students from the provincial and insulated view of the world which

threatens now to weaken their political, ecological, and cultural

Judgment.

Classroom and field work courses in geography for 1983/84as described in the Vassar College Catalogue

101a. Environment and Culture: A Geographical Analysis of World Problems

An investigation of selected aspects of the interrelationships between man andhis habitat, with a focus on the landscape as modified by man. Particular em-

phasis will be paid to environmental issues such as population growth and

migration, hunger and food supply, and the distribution and misuse of resources

such as water, air, soil, vegetation, mineral and energy supplies, and wildlife.

The course will distinguish world regional differences by investigating politicalunits, cultural institutions such as religion, spatial organization such as settle-

ment patterns, and the varying cultural, historical, and economic factors whichhave shaped contemporary land use patterns, with comments about the future.

111b. Cultural Landscapes of the Hudson ValleyField trips to selected localities in the Hudson Valley and vicinity to study the

landscape and the role of the Hudson River, the historical settlement of the

region, the contemporary urban, residential, and agriculture land use in the

region, and some of the environmental issues affecting the river and the land.

220a. Cartography

Study of the graphic presentation of ideas through the application of the basic

principles of map making and design.

245a. Anglo America

Study of the patterns of human organization in the United States and Canada.

250a. Urban Geography

Study of the formal structure and the functional organization of cities.

290. Field Work (a or b term)

300a. Senior Thesis

301b. Senior Seminar

374b. Rural Planning and Development

An inquiry into the changing rural American landscape. From contrasting pat-terns of rural decline and emergency, associated with shifts in ecologic values,occupational structure, and transportation and housing patterns, emerge poten-

tially conflicting plans for local and regional development. Land use analysis

through literary and historical approaches will combine with local field research.

Problems of Third World agricultural development will also be investigated.

385b. Seminar in Urban Planning Issues

Investigates current major urban and environmental issues such as land use,

transportation, housing, urban renewal, new towns, and environmental quality,analyzing causes and attempted solutions.

399. Senior Independent Work (a or b term)

Reading Courses in Geography 1983/84 (a or b term)

297.01 Geography in the Secondary School Curriculum

297.02 Geography, Ecology, Culture

297.03 African Regional Geography: West Africa

297.04 Geographical Factors of Poverty

298. Independent Study

9

Below: A detail from one of the many richly il-

lustrated maps in Vassar’s Lasker Collection ofEarly Atlases and Maps. Included there are ex-

amples of cartography from the 16th, 17th,and 18th centuries.

taught together with John Sears in the

English department. A quick glance at a re-

cent issue of Annals of the Association

of American Geographers indicates the

enormous spread of contemporary geog-

raphers’ concerns. Articles analyzing the

“Nile River Low Flows” or “glacial out-

wash” one might expect, but the same issue

also includes articles on “Structural Marx-

ism and Human Geography” and “Un-

documented Migration from Mexico.”

Vassar has played a role in the develop-

ment of the field of geography. In the late

nineteenth and early twentieth centuries,

Ellen Churchill Semple, V.C. 1882, achieved

a worldwide reputation for her field in-

vestigations, for her bold theories, and her

colorful writing. Known as “the dean of

American geographers,” Semple studied

with the German anthropo-geographer,Fredrich Ratzel, bringing back Europeanmethods and enthusiasm to the United

States. She invented a new approach

now known as environmental determinism

to the relationship between the landscape

and its human inhabitants, arguing that

human cultures are to a great extent molded

by the physical environment in which they

are located. Semple’s theories gained wide-

spread acceptance and predominated in the

Community design from study to street

Last spring, Vassar’s geography department

offered a new course, Community Design,

which introduced students to geographicconcepts both in and out of the academic

world. Taught by Associate Professor

Harvey Flad, the course was developed to

examine “the spatial arrangement of the

natural and the built environments as theyrelate to the .social function” of com-

munities. Throughreading and discussions,

students were asked to study many different

aspects of community design from traf-

fic patterns to architectural styles then

take to the streets of the business district

adjacent to campus to see and apply what

they learned in a practical exercise in com-

munity planning.The core of classroom work consisted of

reading assignments from such books as

Kevin Lynch’s The Image of the City, Jane

Jacobs’s The Death and Life of Great

American Cities, and lan McHarg’s Design

with Nature. The semester began by in-

terpreting these and other authors’ percep-

tions of communities, and ended by ex-

amining the ways one can effect change in a

community through such means as land-

scaping, preservation, and traffic controls.

Next door to Vassar, the Arlingtonbusiness council was looking for solutions

to their concerns regarding parking

shortages, a number of abandoned build-

ings, and the protection of their shoppingdistrict’s prosperity and identity in its

competition with nearby malls. Communityleaders, knowing of Mr. Flad’s course, saw

the perfect opportunity to help students

with their field study while providing

Arlington with inexpensive and enthusiastic

researchers.

To initiate the field work portion of the

class, we took a weekend trip to Cornell

University, where we werebriefed on issues

of business district revitalization by

Lisa Byers is an American Culture major.For her senior thesis she is investigating the

attitudes that residents and merchants ofCanaan, Connecticut, hold toward their

community.

members of the Landscape Architecture

Program. That workshop introduced us to

projects by graduate students and profes-

sionals that were similar to the one we were

about to undertake in Arlington. After the

trip, we launched our field study.

Documentation of Arlington’s business

district was one of our first tasks. We com-

piled information on dates of building con-

struction, land ownership, space classifica-

tion (open, commercial, single or multipleresidence), and we took surveys of mer-

chants, shoppers, and residents. Later, we

sifted through our data, discussing, for ex-

ample, suggestions for adding and expand-

ing parking areas (including the idea ofcon-

structing a parking lot on the lawn of

Alumnae House). In the end, our recom-

mendations included the development of

more open green spaces with benches and

places to sit, the upgrading of sidewalks,and the addition of crosswalks to slow

down vehicular traffic. We also proposedthat facades and signs be changed to bringmore unity and appeal to the area.

The next task became a presentation to

interested members of the Arlington com-

munity. Approximately 30 area residents

and merchants attended a meeting in

Vassar’s Chicago Hall. There we displayedmaps we had drafted that documented

present-day Arlington and others that il-

lustrated our proposals for improvements.We had drawn pictures of facades, parks,

and sidewalks to show how simple and

sometimes not-so-simple improvements

could make a large impact on the area’s

visual appeal; slides of these drawings, of

old photographs, and of existing spaces ac-

companied our oral presentation.

Over the past summer, while still in

Poughkeepsie assisting with the Vassar

Summer Institute on Historic Preservation,

I was able to see our effort carried one step

further. In July, Mr. Flad presented a con-

densed version of our proposals to the

Poughkeepsie Town Council. The response

was very positive and the suggestion was

made to incorporate our findings into the

masterplan for Arlington. Lisa Byers ’B4

10 VQ Fall 1983

field for many years. “It’s taken half a cen-

tury,” says Mr. Flad, “to overturn her

notions. Geographers today believe that en-

vironment is one contributing factor in

shaping human cultures, but not the only

factor.” Ms. Mano speaks admiringly of

Semple’s professional achievements and

also of her courage in battling prejudice

against women scientists. “When deter-

minism went out of favor, Semple’s reputa-

tion suffered. I always defend her. She

wasn’t even allowed in the lecture halls with

Ratzel, her teacher; she had to sit outside

and listen through the doorway.”Despite Semple’s prominence, however,

geography has traditionally remained quite

inhospitable to women scholars. “Women

have been denied opportunities. It’s been a

white, male discipline,” says Mr. Flad. He

attributes this state of affairs in part to af-

filiations between geography and militar-

ism. The waging of war has always de-

pended upon maps and spatial kinds of

analysis, which perhaps explains the ex-

clusion of women from the field. Ms.

Mano, like many women active in the pro-

fession today, belongs to the new Commit-

tee on the Status of Women in Geography,which, for the past several years, has

published a quarterly newsletter describing

employment opportunities and feminist

research. Only about 4 percent of geog-

raphers in higher education are women,

Ms. Mano says, and the number of those

holding tenured positions “can be counted

on your fingers.” “It’s a very stodgy pro-

fession,” she admits. “There are a lot of

crusty, boring, old male geographers out

there.” Ms. Mano is one of a new genera-

tion of ambitious women who are strivingto make changes by introducing debate in

scholarly journals about sexist biases in

field work, and by publishing research on

feminist questions. A recent issue of The

Professional Geographer featured articles

on subjects such as the male-female ratio in

an urban labor force and the geography of

prostitution.

Resources for Vassar students of geog-

raphy include access to many historically

significant maps housed in the Special Col-

lections area of the library. Particularly

notable is the Lasker Collection of Early

Atlases and Maps, assembled by Edward

Lasker of New York City and donated to

Vassar by his sister, Loula Lasker, V.C.

1909. This collection consists of 12 rare

atlases, dating from 1572 to 1778, and three

portfolios of maps. The collection includes

the work of several of the most famous

cartographers of the sixteenth, seventeenth,

and eighteenth centuries: the Hondius-

Mercator Atlas Minor, published in Am-

sterdam in 1634; Theatrum oder Schaw-

platz des Erdbodems, published by Abra-

ham Ortelius of Antwerp in 1572; and

Theatrum orbis terrarum, published by

Willem and Jan Blaeu in Amsterdam, 1645.

In its October 13, 1937 issue, the Miscellany

News reported on the Lasker Collection,

noting; “The whole represents the stage

Michael Rapp ’75, market manager and former geography major: ‘Tell

Harvey Flad I am still hiking those electric right-of-ways.’

when geographical knowledge was becom-

ing precise, without wholly severing its re-

lations with beauty, adventure, and

romance.” Many of the maps contain tiny

representations of ships, sea monsters, mer-

maids, Indian teepees, elephants, or deer,

scattered over the land masses and the

waters to indicate what sorts of real or

mythological creatures a traveler might ex-

pect to encounter. Such figures do, in truth,

lend the documents an air of adventure and

romance. Gazing at the exquisite coloring

and finely drawn outlines, one gains new in-

sight into the quiet pronouncement of

Elizabeth Bishop ’34: “More delicate than

the historians’ are the map-makers’ colors.”

m

Geography majors in the real world

In the past several years, prior to the recent

reinstatement of geography as a formal

major at Vassar, approximately three stu-

dents per year “majored” in the subject,

either through the independent program or

as part of an interdepartmental concentra-

tion. Only a few recent graduates continue

to make geography an academic pursuit.One is Julie A. Stephens ’B2. Ms. Stephens,

currently in the graduate geography pro-

gram at the University ofMinnesota (rankedthe top graduate geography program in the

nation, according to the Chronicle of

Higher Education), plans to earn a master’s

by the end of 1983/84. “I’m pursuing an

applied geography career in public and

private planning,” she told the Quarterly,“and am considering a Ph.D. program.”

Her senior thesis at Vassar, “Socio-

Economic Impacts of the MX Missile Pro-

ject, A Case Study of Callente, Nevada,”

was awarded a grade of distinction, and has

been used as a resource by geography and

anthropology students since her gradua-tion.

Russell Cohen ’7B, now the executive

director of Hillside Trust in Cincinnati,

Ohio, went from geography to a career

focused on environmental policy. After

earning a master’s degree in natural re-

sources and a law degree from Ohio State

University, he worked for the Mas-

sachusetts Audubon Society, the Lincoln In-

stitute of Land Policy, and the Ohio

Chapter of the Nature Conservancy before

coming to the Hillside Trust, a private non-

profit land conservation organization. He

has published articles on land conservation

in journals, most recently one on the

National Natural Landmark Program

{UCLA Journal ofEnvironmental Law and

Policy, June 1983).

Most geography students take up careers

far removed from the subject, but those

contacted by the Quarterly look back with

fondness on their Vassar classes. “I’m now

working on improving the mental landscape

rather than the physical,” says Michael

Rapp ’75, market manager for Software

Outlets in Nashville, Tennessee. “Tell

Harvey Flad I am still hiking those electric

right-of-ways. And we make a great

isopleth map maker.” Then there’s Rob Fry

’7B, assistant investment analyst with

Metropolitan Insurance Company in New

York City, who notes that his geography

background “makes living in the city more

satisfying.” “It also served well for my get-

ting into the Tulane School of Business and

this job. I’m no longer a geographer, but

I’m happy I once was. ” J.S.

11

NEUTRAL STATES

James Day, Classics

12VQ Fall 1983

Portraits of Vassar faculty by Mathieu Roberts ’83

Brett Singer, English

13

For this series, the only direction

was where to stand.

1 began to appreciate photographic portraits after seeing AugustSander’s work at the Boston Museum of Fine Art in 1981. The

following summer, I worked as an intern at Richard Avedon’s

studio in New York. Upon returning to Vassar in the fall, I thoughtthat a portrait series of college professors might prove interesting.

Dixie Massad Sheridan ’65, assistant to the president, liked the idea

and provided encouragement and funding. The portraits published

here belong to that project, undertaken independently of my

senior-year academic program. The complete set of photographswas exhibited in the College Center Gallery last spring.

To establish a relationship between the subject in the photographand the viewer, the portraits were enlarged to 16” by 20”, propor-

tions that approach life size. In the gallery, the prints weremounted

so that the subject’s eyes were level with the viewer’s own. To make

the relationship between portrait and viewer more immediate, the

faculty members were photographed with the appearance of look-

ing directly into the camera. In addition, each subject’s posture is

of a static quality. By this I mean that the person assumed a posi-

tion that implies he or she could maintain it over a period of time.

Such a quality can be stark, particularly if one is familiar with the

subject as an animate being. Although the faces in these photo-

graphs are at the point of neutrality, this neutrality has echoes of

previous emotions.

In creating the portraits, the use of a studio was essential. It al-

lowed me to use a white backdrop to isolate or suspend the subject

in a neutral space. This background intensifies attention on the

subject. I dislike using props because they may prove distracting

and bias the viewer. Had these professors been photographed in

their offices it would have been difficult to consider them as in-

dividuals apart from their profession.To light the subjects, I used a single strobe with an umbrella and

positioned it close to the camera lens, thereby eliminating shadows.

This, in combination with the use of large negatives (2 1/4” by2 1/4”), fine-grain film, and careful darkroom work, can produceportraits of excruciating and perhaps unforgiving detail. I showed

the images to a friend, who became furious at me because she felt

that they were cruel in their specificity. She would have preferredthem to be soft and dreamy to fit her own image of the people. I

like this kind of detail, however, for it can cause a viewer to forgetthat the portraits are only photographs, and to react as if real per-

sons were present. Excruciating detail also forces one to ponderhow mental images of an individual may depend on our feelings

toward that person, or toward what he or she represents.

The studio also helps to foster a relationship between subject and

photographer, which can greatly influence the portrait. When first

shooting portraits, I was inclined to give directions, but I became

uncomfortable doing so. I have come to think that subjects who are

manipulated make for dishonest portraits. For this series, the only

direction given was where to stand. When the initial focusing and

framing of the subject was complete, I stood three feet to the side

of the camera for the rest of the session. Keeping oneself in the

open instead of hidden behind a camera better encourages sincere

conversation. Twenty-six photographs were taken during each half-

hour session. Most of the frames you see here were achieved in si-

lent moments or while I was speaking.

Mathieu Roberts, a biology major while at Vassar, is working

as a free-lance photographer in New York and Connecticut.

Christine Havelock, Art

Curt Beck, Chemistry

14 VQ Fall 1983

Walter Fairservis, Anthropology

Jean Pin, Sociology

Elbert Tokay, Biology

Gwen Broude, Psychology

15

Learningfrom

The Sixties

Will the post-World War II baby boom generation

ever take the full measure of the period during which

it came of age the era offlagrant oppositions

known as “The Sixties?” Will there ever be

agreement, even, on what span the term “Sixties”

really entails? The calendar years from 1960 to 1969,

or the years bridging watershed events? From the

election ofPresident Kennedy to the resignation of

President Nixon. From Castro’s overthrow ofBatista

to the U.S. pullout from Saigon. From the birth of the

Twist to the deaths at Altamont. Passing time makes

one hungry to understand. In 1983 alone we’ve

witnessed the telecast of a multiprogram history of

the Vietnam War, widely publicized stage and film

works about erstwhile student radicals looking back

from middle age, and many analyses of the civil rights

effort, occasioned by the 20th anniversary of Martin

Luther King’s address known as “I Have A Dream.”

In the section that follows, Vassar alumnae/i and a

faculty member contribute raw material toward the

large and no doubt dramatically ambivalent portrait

that history will construct of the Sixties. The

individual articles are hardly definitivefor the Sixties

Vassar as a whole; the 125 reunion responses that

Margaret Beyer discusses cannot fairly be said to

bespeak the attitudes of their classes at large. Still, as

someone who attended the collegefrom 1965 to

1969, I am sure that the opinions expressed in these

pages will touch a chord in many of my

contemporaries, in the faculty who oversaw our

struggles on the road to reason, and in the families

who argued politics with us long distance, then paid

the phone bills. The emphasis here on the

transformation of action into reflection and of

activism into the subject of scholarly study

seemed appropriate to a college magazine. And our

Sixties logo the vision in an astronaut’s visor of a

mailed fist punched up from the Earth seemed

appropriate to a period when extremes of hope and

anger were often, and inextricably, linked. M.A.

The wages of

Aquarius

Trying to keep the activist alive

inside the professional earning

over $35,000/year

by Margaret Beyer ’70

What has happened to the Vassar students

who marched on Washington and were ac-

tive in campus protests? How have the peo-

ple whose supposed drug use and sexual

behavior were the hallmark of a “new

morality” weathered the years from Kent

State to Reaganomics? Have the political

and social values which made them famous

in the Sixties continued to dominate their

lives? Or have they “sold out” and become

as establishment as those who preceded and

followed them at college?

The media would have us believe that all

that remains of the Sixties generation is a

penchant for jeans and chemical highs, but

it’s not that simple. The evolution of my

values since I entered Vassar in 1966 has in-

trigued and sometimes tormented me. What

do I really believe in and how do I put those

beliefs into action? Part of what I valued

about Vassar was its encouragement of acti-

vism, its “enduring commitment to prepare

each new generation of leaders for the un-

charted future.” Involved in college

government and now a youth advocate in

the juvenile justice and mental health

systems, I have always been troubled by the

question, How much activism is enough? Is

it acceptable to make my contribution to

improving the world during the week and

enjoy suburban living on the weekends? Is

it possible to be liberated and still have a

husband and children? How much income

is it all right for a person committed to

social change to earn? Is it acceptable to

own any stocks, or are they all tainted by

the military-industrial complex? Is all

elitism wrong, even a parent-run private

Margaret Beyer, a psychology major at

Vassar who was graduated with honors,

holds a Ph.D. in clinical/community

psychology from Yale University. Once

directorof the D.C. Coalition for Youth in

Washington, D.C., she works as an advo-

cate to improve youth services (including

institutionaland group home conditionsfor

delinquents), to find alternatives to in-

carceration, and to develop youth employ-

ment programs and special education. In

preparing this article, she wishes to

acknowledge with gratitude the suggestions

of Louise Gorenflo ’7O, Dennis Gregg ’7O,

Alix Gould Myerson ’7l, Joyce Rubin

Schwartz ’7l, and Lenny Steinhorn ’77.

18

When statistics below don’t add up to 100

percent, it’s because some of the figureswere taken to tenths of a percent, and the

fractions have been omittedfor readability.

school? Must I have separate garbage pails

for glass, tin cans, and paper to deliver to

the recycling center, or is it sufficient to

restrict my use of disposable paper and

plastics?

Issues like these were plaguing me, as

usual, when the twelfth reunion of my class

approached. I wondered how troubling the

transition from Sixties values had been to

my classmates. I developed a questionnaire

which was completed by 125 reuning Vassar

alumnae/i, representing 22 percent of the

registrants among four classes 1969,

1970, 1971, 1972 reuning in 1982. (The125 responses represent 6.8 percent of the

entire populations of the four classes at the

time of the 1982 reunion.) A third of the

respondents were from the class of ’72;

about a fifth each were from the other

classes. Ninety-three percent of those an-

swering the questionnaire were female.

(The first seven men to graduate from

Vassar in recent times were in the class of

1970.) Ninety-three percent of the

respondents were White. (In 1970, approxi-

mately four percent of the student body

were Black.) Although the sample included

graduates from across the country, it

tended to be composed of Northeasterners

interested in, and able to return to, reunion.

We can’t be certain how reflective the views

of these respondents are of their graduating

classes in general, although we suspect that

they do represent more than their own im-

mediate group.

Values in collegeIn the main, these Vassar graduates re-

ported that they held liberal values during

their undergraduate years: they favored

social and political change, although most

were not activists or radicals. About a third

traveled to Washington, D.C., to march as

part of the Vietnam Moratorium in the fall

of 1969 or during the Cambodia Strike in

May of 1970. After four Kent State Uni-

versity students were killed by members of

the National Guard during a widely pub-

licized demonstration on that Ohio campus

over the bombing of Cambodia, many U.S.

colleges struggled with the question of how

to respond both to the student deaths and

to America’s role in the Cambodian in-

vasion. Classes at Vassar were suspended in

response to the Kent State affair, and

special arrangements were made for com-

pleting coursework. In place of the formal

curriculum, seminars were set up by Vassar

faculty and students, and a college delega-

tion was sent to Capitol Hill. Most of the

alumnae/i respondents favored these re-

actions.

In October 1969, 35 Black Vassar

students took over part of Main Building.Most of the respondents to the question-

naire reported that they had favored the

Black students’ demands at the time to

make the college’s Black Studies program

capable of granting degrees, to provide

funds for the Urban Center in downtown

Poughkeepsie, and to plan for an all-Black

Vassar dormitory.

In March 1969, shortly after Vassar de-

cided to admit men for undergraduate de-

grees, students voted to curtail parietalhours in the houses. An overwhelming

majority of the reuning respondents re-

ported that they had favored unlimited

parietals.

Beginning in the fall of 1968, student rep-

resentatives met with faculty, administra-

tors, and trustees at the Minnewaska con-

ferences, an attempt, on a large scale, to

sharpen the sense of community and par-

ticipatory democracy at Vassar. The high-

light of the first conference was the ex-

pansion of the decision-making roles that

students enjoyed on college committees.

With Minnewaska in mind, I asked the re-

uning respondents whether they had

favored a stronger student role in college

governance while they were in school. The

vast majority reported that they had.

Values in collegeDidn’t

Favored care Opposed

Cambodia strike

at Vassar 68% 12% 20%

Black student

demands 64% 19% 16%

Unlimited parietals 87% 10% 3%

Student role

in governance 87% 12% 1%

Values now

The respondents continue to be liberals,

although their concern about issues gener-

ally does not make them active in social or

political causes. They are most active as

feminists, however. For many, the most im-

portant social or political issues are local

ones. A good number of respondents are

also involved in local or national efforts to

protect the environment. Some are activelyinvolved in local or national efforts sup-

porting nuclear disarmament.

Values now

Informed & Not

Active Inactive involved

Working for/con-

tributing funds

to women’s

rightsorganizations 34% 40% 27%

Fighting for equal

pay/promotionsfor women at

work 32% 40% 27%

Redefining familyroles 55% 31% 14%

Working on local

social/politicalissues 46% 44% 8%

Local/nat’l

environmental

protection 36% 63%

Local/nat’l

nuclear disarm. 24% 63% 14%

Volunteerism

About a third of the respondents are not

involved at all in volunteer activities. About

40 percent spend one to five hours weekly,20 percent spend five to ten hours weekly,

and 10 percent spend over ten hours weeklyon any single volunteer activity. Primary

volunteer activities were:

1-5 5-10

hrs./wk. hrs./wk.

Religious organizations 21% 1%

Alumnae/i activities 20% 3%

Boards of directors 18% 3%

Own child’s school 17% 3%

Service organizations 14% 5%

Fewer respondents are involved in neigh-

borhood organizations (13%), museum

work (7%), and electoral politics (6%).

This low rate of volunteerism is a major

finding from the questionnaire. Across the

country, the increase in women employed

outside the home has reduced their availa-

bility for volunteer efforts, and community

agencies have suffered. That such a large

number of graduates do not volunteer even

a few hours a week in addition to their jobs

may be a departure from the tradition of

Vassar alumnae. (If the group of re-

spondents about whom I speak were found

to be representative of their entire class

populations, the departure at least from the

19

classes of 1953, ’SB, and ’63 would be ex-

traordinary. According to a recent study

conducted by Eugenie Aiguier Havemeyer

’sl, over 65 percent of those earlier classes

were volunteers during their twenties, and

over 80 percent were volunteers during their

thirties and forties, with 70 percent servingon boards of volunteer organizations.)

Workaholism

Seventy-eight percent of the reuning

respondents are employed outside the

home. (One-fifth of the sample, included

above, are working parents.) They work an

average of 41 hours/week, ranging from 1

hour/week to 80. A staggering 47 percentwork more than 40 hours/week. The

respondents average $25,000 of annual per-

sonal income, ranging from SI,OOO to

$150,000. They report that their spouses

earn an average of $45,000 annually, rang-

ing from SIO,OOO to $250,000. Only half

reported donating any income to charitable

organizations last year.

The respondents are employed in a wide

range of occupations:

Teacher/professor/educator 18

Attorney 16

Manager (president, director, v-p) 16

Arts (producer, director, curator,

artist, architect) 8

Mental health (social worker,psychologist) 5

Physician 4

Writer 4

Systems analyst 3

Full-time student 3

Miscellaneous (consultant, planner,general contractor, researcher,veterinarian, geologist, librarian,bank cashier, etc.) 20

A third of the group work for profit-

making organizations (e.g. law firms, group

practices, business). A quarter work for

schools and universities, a fifth for non-

profit organizations, and 8 percent for

government agencies other than schools.

Thirteen percent are self-employed.It is a noteworthy finding that a group of

college graduates, a majority of whom are

women, are pursuing careers which are

• in such varied fields;• high-powered (presidents, vice-presidents,

directors, and partners);• well paid (18 women out of the 100 em-

ployed respondents are earning in excess

of $35,000 annually before age 35).

LifestyleAmong the most dramatic findings of the

questionnaire are that these graduates who

started college in the Sixties have neither

married nor had children at anywhere near

the rate of earlier generations. Fifty-nine

percent of the respondents are married, 30

percent are single, 10 percent are divorced.

Fifty-eight percent have no children. Nine-

teen percent have one child and 21 percent

have two children; one respondent has three

children and one has four. That nearly a

third of a primarily female group of gradu-

ates aged 30-35 are not married is a remark-

able departure from the engagement ring

craze of past senior years. That more than

half of these graduates have not had chil-

dren by the time they are nine to thirteen

years out of college is also worth pondering.

Career choices and the independence to

pursue them appear to be priorities for

these graduates to the exclusion of, or

before, having families. A larger popula-tion than in the past may elect never to have

children (even if they are married), and

others will delay childbearing until their late

thirties. Although the graduates in the

sample will continue to have children, the

42 percent who are now parents have nearly

achieved zero population growth a decade

out of college.

Sex and drugsIn general, the respondents are now more

sexually active, and monogamous, than

they were in their college years. Their use of

alcohol has increased, and their use of

drugs has decreased.

Senior year Last year

Had sex with no one 31% 8%

Had sex with one person 37% 78%

Had sex with 3-5 people 25% 15%

Had sex with over

5 people 7% 1%

Never used alcohol 14% 5%

Used alcohol once/mo. 25% 18%

Used alcohol once/wk. 54% 48%

Used alcohol daily 7% 29%

Never used drugs 60% 83%

Used drugs once/mo. 16% 10%

Used drugs once/wk. 17% 8%

Used drugs daily 7%

What to make of it

The majority of this group of my Vassar

contemporaries are not tormented by what

they have become in the process of trans-

ition from the Sixties to the Eighties. In

fact, they see the changes as predictable,and not inconsistent with who they were in

college. From the questionnaires:

“As an employer I pay enormous taxes and can

feel this ‘dying liberal’ fading to stage right.”

“Necessity of paying rent and being responsiblemakes coping with the system unavoidable.”

“In becoming more comfortable, the expressionof my values has been toned down.”

“I have changed because of earning money, hav-

ing a family, aging. Basically, now there’s more

to lose.”

They attribute their changes since the Six-

ties to family responsibilities and earning a

living. “Reality,” as many put it, seems to

have been sufficiently disillusioning to

make them change their youthful agenda:

“My values haven’t changed, but strategies have.

In college we were naive about the amount of

power we had to change the world, which provedamazingly resistant to change of a serious kind,despite the threat of nuclear destruction. Copingwith life is more difficult than we imagined in the

Sixties.”

“It’s harder to change the world than I thoughtintelligence and commitment aren’t enough.”

Jim Kunen, author of The StrawberryStatement and later a public defender at-

torney, in 1973 interviewed friends who had

previously chosen alternative lifestyles and

then enrolled in law school. “Our middle-

class instinct (subliminal, unshakable) to

‘make something of yourself,’ abetted by

our social commitment also rather hard

to shake drives us back toward the larger

arena,” one reads. “The pressure mounts

to make your deal, some sort ofcompromise

between the quest for authentic experience

and the need for identity, between adven-

ture and security.”

The Vassar respondents, too, seem to

have “made their deals.” Universally they

report that the Sixties greatly affected

them; most say that their values have not

changed since college. Nevertheless, they

acknowledge that their outward appear-

1970

VassarionLeft: Margaret Beyer ’7O, as a Vassar senior

Right: Ms. Beyer in 1983

20 VQ Fall 1983

‘Although superficially I probably appear very middle class, I am

nonetheless still a “radical” at heart.’

ances conform to the traditional symbols of

success. Having a family income three times

the national average does not make them

feel guilty or see a need to shed their Sixties

identity. Without regret they describe them-

selves as “suburbia with a conscience.” Or,

as a corporate assistant vice-president

wrote, “I am very conventional with liberal

opinions, still concerned about women’s

issues.” They seem to accept, without dis-

comfort, that family and/or working has

redirected their lives. Still, they don’t see

themselves ever becoming as conservative as

their parents:

“Although I’m a corporate lawyer, I’m still in-

volved in a considerable amount of pro bono

work which is not characteristic of those now

coming out of law school. Also, I’m a committed

feminist. My spouse and I have a wonderful rela-

tionship in which family and work responsi-

bilities are shared.”

“I don’t feel as ifmy values have changed much.

I have focused on incorporating them into my

personal life and speaking up in my workplacerather than actively working for more wide-

spread change.”

“Comfortable, yet aware of and somewhat in-

volved in politics. Have held jobs that are work-

ing for causes I believe in. Am conscious of

politics of food coops and sympathetic to friends

leading alternative lifestyles. Feel attitude toward

life strongly influenced by involvement in the

Sixties, but am more conservative/realisticnow,

more self-oriented, but still feel it’s important to

be involved in making things better.”

Most respondents had not chosen alterna-

tive lifestyles, but they report that the Six-

ties are reflected in their personal lives:

“Married, nuclear family. Try to stay politically

and socially aware; try to use my time effectively

in a variety of efforts; try to have honest and

meaningful relationships with friends. Very in-

fluenced by the Sixties.”

“Lifestyle very family-oriented now, but the Six-

ties still have an impact, making me especiallysensitive to environmental and consumer prob-lems, now on a personal rather than theoretical

level.”

“Much less obviously affluent than my parents;

public schools for kids, no servants, encompas-

sing, and not threatening to, people from many

walks of life. Also ecologically aware vegeta-ble garden, recycling, appropriate food usage.”

Others describe the influence of the Six-

ties in feminist terms:

“I am a professional, recently married. I married

later than most of my class because of my feel-

ings for independence and my desire to establish

a career. Women’s lib of the Sixties allowed me

that freedom (otherwise I’d be a suburban

divorcee with three kids).”

“Independent within a long-term, solid mar-

riage. More influenced by the women’s move-

ment than by political activism both then and

now. No kids yet, by choice. All this because of

what I lived through at college, although I

couldn’t exactly describe how or why.”

A physician working part-time:

“1 am a working mother, trying to be more

liberated than my mother was, trying to raise my

kids still more so.”

It appears that the struggle to combine

family and career has replaced a social or

political focus in the lives of most re-

spondents. Those without children face

decisions about whether to alter career

plans to accommodate a family. Two-thirds

of the parents are employed full time or

part time away from home. The thrust

toward career achievements is clear. So is

the pressure not to lose out anywhere:

“Vassar told us we could do anything. We think

we can have it all. We must have it all. Money

and other external things may not measure suc-

cess for all of us. But internally we are pushed to

be 140 percent. To be perfect at work and at

home.”

For some of the respondents, the Sixties

had a major influence on their work:

“Interest in the ‘conserver society.’ Preference

for working for the community, doing something

worthwhile for others (although not everyone

might appreciate that some people think I

work for the government for security).”

“I am strongly committed to social and political

change and 1 believe that this is because of what 1

lived through in the Sixties. Although super-

ficially I probably appear very middle class

(clothes, home, professional presence), 1 am

nonetheless still a ‘radical’ at heart. The fact that

I am involved in a social change profession is

critical to my well-being and sense of self.”

“I am actively engaged in a legal career. Cer-

tainly the politics of the Sixties helped me realize

that I could achieve more in the way of change

for society by having access to ‘the system.’ My

earlier conceptions of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ have

also been tempered since the Sixties because of

the training I received in law school.”

As a comparison, the hundreds of people

surveyed in Woodstock Census were very

concerned with pollution, limitation of

nuclear weapons, marijuana decriminaliza-

tion, corporate power, and the E.R.A.

Nearly half of their sample saw themselves

as working to change the world. More than

80 percent saw themselves as not having

sold out. Nearly half in 1978 were making

less than $lO,OOO and 95 percent less than

$25,000. Half the sample said they felt

older, more self-centered, and a need to be

more practical. But the authors conclude

that the generation’s values had not really

changed. “The Seventies met the basic ex-

pectations that the majority of our re-

spondents had for themselves and for

society,” they wrote, “mainly because

those expectations were generally more

modest than most people realize.”

Students of the Sixties made their peace

with old values and new behaviors. Some of

the Vassar respondents with one foot in the

Sixties and one in the Eighties have mis-

givings about the incongruity between their

values and their lifestyles;

“I am anti-defense spending, suspicious of

patriotic flag wavers, love Joan Baez, but now

socialize with conservatives on the tennis court

and at JuniorWomen’s Club and raise kids in the

suburbs.”

“I live in a suburban house; my belief in collec-

tive living is down the drain. My work is a strong

expression of my political/social commitment to

change. But I feel guilty about spending so much

time away from my kids. Can’t be committed to

work and home both. Sixties made me feel re-

sponsible for changing the world, but living up to

that challenge has brought a lot of guilt. Is this

really me living in a ‘suburban paradise’ with two

kids, a dog and cat, and a station wagon?”

“I feel a responsibility to use my life to make

some small part of the world a little better. There

are many more causes that I feel 1 should (or

want) to support than I am willing to spend the

energy or money on. The moral/social value of

the way I spend my time is an issue I think about

often.”

They have found that there are no rules

for activism, in the Sixties or the Eighties.

They have had to discover for themselves

what they really value, whether or not they

are comfortable with the discovery. Grow-

ing up for me and my contemporaries has

been a process of turning our youthful be-

liefs into personal and professional choices

we can live with as adults. |\Q

21

The status of a Black life

A Vassar classroom, a Mississippi jail, a workshop table, a will book’s

page: one woman’s stepping-stones to knowledge

by Carole Merritt ’62

A few months ago my mother wrote me in

some desperation. “Here I am at 12:30 a.m.

Easter Sunday trying to clear my over-

loaded desk. I decided to dispose of the

Vassar correspondence, and found these

three [letters] that I think might be of im-

portance to you. If not, then get rid of

them. The college has tried to catch up with

you for almost 20 years.” Since graduationin 1962,1 have, indeed, maintained distance

from Vassar. I have not been a supportive

alumna and have not kept abreast of the

college’s development. Perhaps the distance

is not only a measure of the alienation I had

felt as one of a handful of Black students

on a White campus, but also a reflection of

my ambivalence toward a privileged educa-

tion. The excellence of Vassar’s faculty and

administration did not fully compensate for

the relatively thin social fabric of an ad-

vantaged White female community. I have

been proud of the educational legacy, but

on occasion have felt apologetic to have

been one of the few Black beneficiaries.

The letters which my mother forwarded

to me in Atlanta presented both a challenge

and an opportunity to confront my contra-

dictory assessment of the Vassar experience.

The letter announcing the twenty-fifth class

reunion in 1987 reminded me that a genera-

tion has passed since I began my adult

journey. The prospect of accounting for my

travels is somewhat unsettling. The letter

from the Students Afro-American Society

informed me of curricular and social

changes which are being generated by a

Black student body 30 times our number in

the early 19605. Finally, the letter from the

Vassar Quarterly was inviting me to write

this personal statement describing my

passage from college to Mississippi and

home again. Vassar had at last caught up

with me, and was graciously asking an er-

Carole Merritt was born in Cincinnati,

Ohio. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, where

she is the director of the Herndon Founda-

tion Museum and Archives. She has justcompleted an exhibit project on Black

family history in Georgia, which was

funded by the National Endowmentfor the

Humanities. (See sidebar.) As a doctoral

candidate in American Studies at EmoryUniversity, she is writing her dissertation on

slave family structure.

rant alumna to tell her story. The request

comes when I am trying to catch up with

myself. I need to trace the pattern I have cut

these past two decades, and, at the risk of

self-indulgence, I want to share my

thoughts.

I had not been a good student at Vassar.

Graduating cum laude attested more to per-

sistence than to scholarship. I used to envy

those classmates who went the extra

distance with their homework, and who not

only answered the professor’s more dif-

ficult questions, but also consistently posedtheir own. I had not yet experienced the

crises that would have focused my interests

and informed my studies. It would take

several years of struggle to learn who I was

before my education would take shape.I remember the anxiety of transferring

out of Carl Degler’s history course on the

American South at the last minute. I had

dreaded discussion of some of the issues

that area of study would have raised; the

impact of slavery, the status of Black life,the nature of American racism. In those

days, I felt obligated to be a knowledgeablespokesman on questions that turned on the

Black experience. It was an impossible

burden for a student, but since kinder-

garten, I knew the demands of being the

token Black, and wanted to ease my lot that

Carole Merritt ’62

22 VQ Fall 1983

semester. A political science major was as

much as I could handle then. Studying

politics allowed me to work out some of the

obligations I assumed on behalf of the race

without directly confronting those heavier

issues in our history.

Eventually, I would come to those issues,

but the route would be long, and was

usually directed by a very personal quest. It

was ironic that this journey should have

begun in such an unlikely place as Vassar

College, which seemed so far afield for a

Black woman who barely knew herself. I

suppose Vassar provided a particular set of

circumstances that made me realize some-

thing in my learning was amiss, and that

helped to set me on course.

In my second year at Vassar, two things

helped turn me around. One was a course

called African Heritage. The other was

the Southern student sit-ins. My studies

gave me a handle on my history for the first

time, and public events suggested a channel

for my commitment.

Africa has been the shameful past for

most African-Americans, but studying my

origins was easier than confronting the

slave legacy. Moreover, learning about dis-

tinctive American patterns that derived

from Africa offered a new and joyful per-

spective. The African Heritage course

taught by anthropologist John Murra, was

a provocative introduction to culture, rang-

ing from such subjects as West African

puberty and the Jamaican family to Black

American motor behavior.

Mr. Murra’s instructionon the culture of

political change was no less provocative.After Vassar students picketed Poughkeep-

sie’s Woolworth store in support of the

Southern sit-ins in early 1960, he chided us

for our failure to follow through. We had

felt rather self-satisfied with our sympathy

march, and had decided to send money to

the Southern students. Mr. Murra, how-

ever, had read the student protests as the

beginning of a significant movement. He

knew of a meeting scheduled in Raleigh,

North Carolina, and cornered me after class

one day to prod: “You don’t need to be col-

lecting money. You need to go down there! ”

A year after graduation, when the time

seemed right, I went to Mississippi to work

with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating

Committee (S.N.C.C.), which had been

founded at that Raleigh meeting in early

1960. The move South with S.N.C.C. was

both the best and the worst thing I ever did.

In Mississippi our objective was direct ac-

tion, whether we were engaged in the major

program voter registration or in

economic boycotts and other protest

demonstrations. The substance of that ac-

tion was the organization of ordinary

people to speak and act in their own behalf.

S.N.C.C. field workers formed a kind of

uninstitutionalized leadership that gave im-

petus to local community effort. My

privilege was to bear witness to that pro-

cess. That I had skills for little else was a

nearly devastating realization.

There was a time when I could give an ac-

count of every detail of my arrest and im-

prisonment in Canton, Mississippi, early in

1964, for my work on a selective-buying

campaign. I told the story repeatedly to

raise money and recruit students for the

Mississippi Summer Project of 1964. In the

spring of that year, when I last visited

Vassar, I spoke on the same subject. The

students had petitioned the U.S. Depart-

ment of Justice when they heard of my ar-

rest, and had helped pay my bail. For that

triumphant return to campus, the speech I

delivered consisted of what had become a

litany on my imprisonment —a kind of

ritual to reaffirm my engagement in the civil

rights struggle. What I didn’t realize then

was how peripheral those early activities

were to the significance of the movement

and its impact on me.

After my release from jail, my new

S.N.C.C. assignment was to coordinate

educational programs for field staff and

community people who worked directly

with us programs that would provide in-

formation and training for more effective

work. It was a job, I suppose, that no one

wanted. What, in fact, did we need to

know? Political history and governmental

structure? Theories about social change?

Techniques in nonviolent protest? Or how

to read better? And how should these be

taught? It was Ironic that just two years out

of Vassar I was confronted, again, with the

need to be knowledgeable when I knew little

or nothing. I struggled to conduct a motley

group of workshops, some of which ended

in gross failure, while others were barely

passable. That struggle, however, helped to

change my perception of myself and my

people. I discovered that in critical areas of

knowledge, community people in the move-

ment knew more than I did. Their life ex-

periences in the South carried more infor-

mation on the American system than I

could have provided. Their trials with the

society’s injustices gave them some intricate

knowledge of its workings. From the bot-

tom of the ladder, the perspective is reveal-

ing.

In admitting what I didn’t know, I

discovered who the teachers are. I had to

change my posture for learning, deciding to

look to the unrecognized sources of infor-Catalogue for author’s 1982 exhibition

Drawing by Walter Hearn

Ms. Merritt at Vassar (’62 Vassarion)

23

mation. I remember a workshop led by a

woman from Itta Bena, Mississippi, who

encouraged the community participants to

talk about their civil rights work. The

discussion began as a collective narrative of

who we were and where we came from. It

developed into a concise statement of how

we had become a movement how in-

dividual acts of heroism had made the

ground fertile for change and for the

emergence of local leadership. That session

was more than a history lesson on the

movement; it was also my introduction to

our history as a people. The expressions of

the workshop participants, the clarity with

which they viewed their situation, and the

faith on which they acted belonged to an

old tradition. Moreover, that tradition

belonged to me, having come byway of my

parents and grandparents. I was a by-

stander in Mississippi, but hardly an out-

sider.

My family was rooted in the same soil

that nourished the movement. Coming to

the movement was the beginning of a long

journey home. I had not realized I was

going that way, but the road from Pough-

keepsie through Mississippi was certainly

headed there. For better and worse, my

venture turned me around and set me on

course to myself. Nearly two decades later,

on my second journey South, I finally

linked that very personal mission to a public

calling. That I would make a career out of

family history was perhaps predictable,

given the special turns in my route.

About ten years ago, I discovered my

slave ancestors in a will book in the county

courthouse in Athens, Georgia. Slavery was

no longer a heavy issue; it was my personalhistory. I was now able to approach that

heritage. Tracing my bloodline put me

directly in touch with that old tradition

that complex of experiences and values that

made us a distinctive people and sustained

us through hard times. Through family

history, I have gained access to some of the

richest sources of information. I have never

gotten tired of listening to the stories, of

reading for the details that tell who we are

and how we have come this way. The narra-

tive seems inexhaustible. It continues to re-

ward me with self-knowledge, and with un-

derstanding and respect for my people. *0!

Photospages24-25

from

Homecomingby

CaroleMerritt

Crawford B. Dowdell, Americas, 1919

John T. and Rosalind B. Gill, Sr., and son John, Jr., Atlanta, 1919

24 VQ Fall 1983

Bloodlines, mussels, a doll named Lou

“For African-Americans, home has had

many meanings,” writes Carole Merritt in

the catalogue for “Homecoming,” an ex-

hibition of historic photographs and folk

artifacts organized by Ms. Merritt last year

at the Atlanta Public Library. “As a place

of origin, it was Africa; as a place of birth

and residence, America. For many, home

has been Georgia. It is the family and all its

associations of kinship and affection. In the

sense of family, home has transcended

place and circumstance. Bloodlines ex-

tended from Africa to America, and kin-

ship survived slavery, oppression, war, and

migration.”

Subtitled “African-American Family

History in Georgia,” the catalogue gives

one a perspective on the everyday lives and

rituals of Black Georgians over the past 200

years. There are individuals and clans, in-

fants and elders, soldiers, ministers, beau-

ticians, and brides. Everywhere are the

images of children being birthed, nursed,

schooled, treasured. And toughened. Par-

ticularly direct are two undated photos by

Robert E. Williams of toddlers and an

adolescent, staring out from stooped labor

in a cotton field in the noonday sun. Ob-

jects depicted invoke children, too —a slat-

ted, small-scaled rocking chair and a pair of

1905 baby shoes, a delicately worked silk

christening dress from 1891 and a little

petrified stick some turn-of-the-century

imaginer wrapped in a rough piece of plaid

and christened “Lou.”

Ms. Merritt’s carefully documented

essay, woven through the volume, tells of a

complex and child-loving culture, both dur-

ing and after enslavement. It’s a cool,

knowledgeable, and sometimes discomfort-

ing piece of prose. “Slavery did not destroy

children’s imagination and sense of fun,

but the pain and indignities of slave status

were unavoidable,” says a chapter on

childhood. Then, quoting in part from an

oral history:

“in Willis Gofer’s childhood, which was

spent on a large plantation about five miles

from Washington in Wilkes County, all the

children were fed from a trough. ‘They just

poured the peas on the chunks of cornbread

what they had crumbled in the trough, and

us had to mussel them out. Yes’m, I said

mussel. The only spoons us had was mussel

shells what us got out of the branches.’ ”

Ms. Merritt concludes: “Emancipation

gave the family greater autonomy in the

care of its children. Economic deprivation

and racism, however, continued to make

African-American childhood a stern in-

troduction to the responsibilities of an

adulthood that would come all too soon.”

M.A.

Top: Emerging from the water after baptism,c. 1900

Above: Immersion during baptism, c. 1900

25

Teaching about the

Sixties in the EightiesIncorporating the lessons of the Seventies

by Michael S. Kimmel ’72

What am Inow that I was then

May memory restore again and againThe smallest color of the smallest dayTime is the school in which we learn

Time is the fire in which we burn.

Delmore Schwartz

I first realized that the Sixties wereover on

April 10, 1976. The night before, a friend

from New York had telephoned me in Cali-

fornia with the news that Phil Ochs, the

angry and troubled political folksinger, had

taken his own life. Ochs had been a key ac-

tor in the decade’s cast of characters; his

caustic satire and abiding optimism sus-

tained us on many protest marches and

picket lines. The next morning, I shared my

deep sadness with the introductory

sociology class I was teaching at U.C.

Berkeley. To my amazement, not one of the

30 or so students had even heard of Phil

Ochs. None could recognize a song title, or

a line from any of his songs. In that instant,

I experienced a profound separation from

my students that I had not felt before. They

and I had a drastically different set of

cultural experiences; we were not con-

temporaries. (And these were students at

Berkeley no less, where the student move-

ment began.)If my Vassar was quieter than the more

celebrated hotbeds of student activism, it

was not because Vassar students were any

less caught up in the issues. Vassar had

always encouraged a deep and abiding

moral concern; not particularly effusive, it

could easily be mistaken for complacency.

Everyone on campus was touched by the

events of the Sixties; many participated in

local and national demonstrations, and

nearly all participated in serious debates

about the costs and benefits of coeduca-

While studying sociology and philosophy as

an undergraduate, Michael Kimmel demon-

strated against the Vietnam War, went to

Woodstock, and resisted the draft. He re-

ceived a Ph.D. in sociology from the Uni-

versity of California at Berkeley in 1981,

and is now an assistant professor ofsociology at Rutgers University. His articles

and reviews have appeared or are forth-coming in Newsday, the Nation, the San

Francisco Chronicle, the Philadelphia In-

quirer, and various scholarly journals.

tion, feminism, drugs, Woodstock, com-

munes, and the proposed Vassar Institute

of Technology. When Black students oc-

cupied Main Building in the fall of 1969, the

thin veneer of this apparent complacency

was punctured. During the crisis, however,the protesters angry over what theyperceived as the lack of commitment on the

college’s part to active minority recruiting

and a well-funded, well-staffed Black

Studies curriculum were not confronted

as protesting students were elsewhere by an

intransigent administration, condescending

faculty, or apathetic White students.

Rather, the White students actively sup-

ported the Black students, the administra-

tion did some serious soul searching, and

the faculty promised to put their bodies be-

tween the demonstrators and the county

police, who were looking for a headline-

grabbing arrest after their embarrassment in

Millbrook with Timothy Leary’s followers.

Perhaps this explains Vassar’s placid at-

mosphere during the Sixties: a conviction

that faculty and students were engaged in a

common moral and intellectual enterprise,

and that our classroom experience bore

directly on our capacity to act as re-

sponsible citizens. This was rare in colleges

of the time; it is even rarer today.The shock of dissociation from my own

students first led me to consider the Sixties

as an historical moment, an era, circum-

scribed by specific pivotal events. Each of

us would probably refer to a different, very

personal moment when the Sixties ended

for him or her, or at least when we realized

they were over in spirit as well as in fact. It

might be that moment on May 4, 1970,when, watching student demonstrators be-

ing shot by National Guardsmen at Kent

State, we understood that our own govern-

ment was prepared to kill us for protesting

against the agonizing and ugly war in Indo-

china. (The silent scream of the kneeling

woman in the famous photograph of the

Kent State killings continues to haunt me.)

It might be the end of that tragic war, or the

resignation of Richard Nixon, the most

visible symbol of what we struggled against.

For some, the end of the Sixties might have

come with an event even more personal: the

dissolution of the commune, acceptance in-

to law school, marriage, or the tossing out

of those old torn jeans into the trash.

Most of us would probably agree that

whenever the Sixties ended for us, they be-

gan, as a distinct historical era, exactly 20

years ago, during academic year 1963/64.

Earlier, in ’62, John Glenn’s successful

orbit of the earth left us gaping at the seem-

ingly limitless possibilities promised by

technological advances. Martin Luther

King’s impassioned speech at the march on

Washington, D.C., August 1963 (the “I

Have a Dream” speech) remained inspir-

ingly optimistic despite the glaring inade-

quacy of political solutions to answer basic

human needs. Then the roof caved in, leav-

ing us groping for meaning through the

shards of a shaken culture. Lee Harvey

Oswald’s trigger finger irrevocably shat-

tered the pastoral of our contemporary

Camelot. Just as members of my parents’

generation can recall where they were when

they heard about Pearl Harbor, every

member of the Sixties generation can recall

exactly where he or she was on that chilly

day in late November when President John

Kennedy was assassinated.

Political and cultural events that demar-

cate the historical era followed quickly; the

Civil Rights Act, the Gulfof Tonkin resolu-

tion (which effectively began the official

war in Vietnam), the paperback publicationof The Feminine Mystique by BettyFriedan, the Free Speech Movement in

Berkeley, and the release of the first record

album by the Beatles. “Something is hap-

pening and you don’t know what it is,” Bob

Dylan sang the next spring. It sure was.

Today, as I prepare another lecture for

introductory sociology, I remember that

none of my freshmen students had been

born when President Kennedy was shot.

The Sixties are as distant to them as the

Second World War was for me the

pivotal era of an earlier generation. It is not

coincidental that today courses on the Six-

ties are springing up in colleges across the

country. Set safely into the realm of aca-

demic discourse, the Sixties appear further

removed as a vital force on the political

landscape.

We wanted to make history, not history

courses. But to see these Sixties courses as

the ultimate admission of a failed politics is

wrong. Even if the change was not as great

or as fast as we would have liked, we did

26 VQ Fall 1983

change the world. (Ironically, I have a

harder time convincing my contemporaries

about this than my 19-year-old students

who live in its wake.) I believe that the Viet-

nam War was ended sooner because of our

activism; today, it appears that despite

President Reagan’s efforts we are, as a

nation, less willing to commit ourselves to a

senseless war in Central America. The belief

in civil rights, the struggles against sexism,

racism, imperialism, environmental pollu-tion, and nuclear devastation in short,the political agenda of the 1970 s and ’Bos

were set by the Sixties.

Nor are the Sixties dead because they are

ensconced in the academy. As each of our

personal Sixties ended, many members of

the Sixties generation needed to sift through

those tumultuous years. As early as 1971,

Yippie leader Abbie Hoffman announced

that he was going to a Florida beach to “sit

with fat blue-haired ladies having nose jobs

and try to figure out what the hell happenedto all of us.’’ “The Sixties, like they came so

fast. Bang! Wham! Zowie! We don’t even

know what hit us. We’re still spinning!”

For many of us, one place to figure out

both the past and the future was graduate

school. If understanding requires both ac-

tion and reflection, it seemed to be time,

after a hiatus of from three to ten years, to

reflect on our activism. My graduate school

cohort at Berkeley included one past presi-

dent and three former national officers of

the Students for a Democratic Society

(S.D.S.); my local softball league team

featured three nationally known draft re-

sisters (center field, shortstop, and third

base) as well as one S.D.S. officer. No mat-

ter how long we delayed, many of us even-

tually completed dissertations and found

teaching jobs in colleges and universities

around the country. (If our elitist activism

drew us to the Northeast and Northern

California, the vagaries of the academic job

market have insured a more democratic dis-

persal of the Sixties generation with

Ph.D.’s.)

So we had done it and we had studied it.

Now we were teaching about it to a new

generation of college students, a generation

who, we imagine, are more like ourselves

than were the students in college during the

19705. In contrast to the pervasive despair

among Seventies students, college students

today often evidence an exuberant op-

timism about personal possibilities. If the

world remains intact, they feel, racism and

sexism will not be constraints on their per-

sonal lives. Instead, they have the sense

they can do anything they want. Their

world contains options, similar, they be-

lieve, to the choices the Sixties generation

had. (In contrast, the students of the Seven-

ties felt that neither personal nor social op-

tions were available to them in a shrinking

economy.) It is no surprise that students in

1983 do not yearn for a romanticized and

antiseptically clean version of the Fifties as

students did only eight years ago. The cur-

rent students don’t need to fantasize about

complacent enjoyment of life; they live it,

enthused about possibilities they see as re-

sults from our work in the Sixties toward a

more open society. (This applies mostly to

students in relatively privileged institutions.

At community and state colleges, the per-

vasive despair of the Seventies has been

translated into today’s exaggerated com-

petition for frequently dead-end jobs.)Finally, what we are teaching reflects

how we have changed as the decades have

passed. Gone are the wide-eyed propheciesof impending revolution and the rhapsodictestimonials to communal or religiousalternatives. Teaching about the Sixties im-

plies incorporating the lessons of the Seven-

ties. Specifically, it has meant integrating

the insights of several significant move-

ments: the environmental, new-populist,

antinuclear, and the women’s movement

all of which have significant overlaps in

both vision and strategy. Transforming the

world means more than stopping the war

machine in its tracks; it has come to imply,

in our classrooms, a serious confrontation

with personal and local issues. When the

political becomes personal, we begin to live

the alternatives that we are espousing. The

concerns of the Sixties have partially come

to rest in movements to clean up the en-

vironment, to democratize local politics, to

create neighborhoods safe for women, at

the same time as we resist global nuclear

holocaust. The children of the Sixties have

grown up, and they have brought their con-

cerns back home. IM3

1972

VassarionLeft: MichaelKimmel '72, as a Vassar senior.

Michael Kimmel '72, spring 'B3

DOONESBURY by Garry Trudeau

Copyright 1974, G.B. Trudeau. Reprinted with permission of Universal Press Syndicate. All rights reserved

27

Communes and outlaws

Few Sixties phenomena are more evocative

of their era than the commune, and few

have been more ridiculed. The idea of an

anthropologist studying a commune as one

might study an island community, for ex-

ample, startles at first, but when you hear

Colleen Cohen discuss the subject, your

consciousness will be permanently raised. A

visiting lecturer at Vassar in anthropology

and American culture, Ms. Cohen is also a

candidate for a Ph.D. in anthropology

from S.U.N.Y./Albany. Tier dissertation

“Fire over Water: economic and ideo-

logical change in a rural countercultural

community” is a detailed ethnography

of a commune in upstate New York be-

tween 1968 and 1980, a group in which she,

herself, was a fully participating member

for a number of years. “We never did refer

to ourselves as a commune,” she told the

Quarterly. “We were a family, and we

stressed sensitivity, caring, and politicalawareness. The members of that community

feel they have made a real effort to lead

complete lives.”

At Vassar, Ms. Cohen puts the com-

munes of the Sixties in the context of

American utopian communities in general

the first of which, the Labadie com-

munity, was founded in 1683. Nevertheless,

she believes the 1960 s were special. “We’re

not talking about an historical period as

much as a state of mind,” she said. “It still

has something to offer. Students today are

interested in careers. I emphasize to them

that they’re going to be members of at least

one community, a family, and that the

choices they make about their lifestyles are

important. Will they accept high-paying

jobs that keep them in the office until 10

p.m., or jobs that pay less but permit more

family time? I try to convey that what you

do does matter, and what you don’t do

matters even more.”

Leonard Steinhorn ’ll former winner

of Vassar’s Virginia Swinburne Prize in

History, A.B.D. in American history at

Johns Hopkins, and a political activist sincethe age of 12 visited the campus in

September to see his brother Charles (as-

sistant professor of mathematics) and to

deliver a lecture about the Sixties for the

history department. Called “Three Central

Themes in the Youth Culture of the 19605:

the White Negro, the Outlaw, and the

Apocalypse,” his work draws on his exten-

sive research for a course about the Sixties

which he taught at American University as

an instructor in the American studies de-

partment there. One special feature of the

classes was the regular appearance of guestlecturers: James Farmer, Abbie Hoffman,

James Kunen. “I found that students reallydidn’t know very much about the Sixties,”

said Mr. Steinhorn during a Quarterly inter-

view. “But when they read the original

documents, like Martin Luther King’s

book, and saw someone like James Farmer

actually reliving the Freedom Rides of ’6l

right in front of them, it was tremendously

inspiring. They began to reassess their am-

bitions, and became much more interested

in activism.”

Of the ’6os in spirit, Mr. Steinhorn’s own

activist history at Vassar was of both the

“outlaw” and the insider varieties. As a

junior, he organized a sit-in of the admis-

sion office “which was then trying to at-

tract a homogeneous population of stu-

dents”; then he was elected by his peers to

the Presidential Search Committee that

chose Virginia Smith. By nature, however,

he is a theorist; and so it was a major stepfor him when, recently, he left academe to

join a nonprofit public affairs office in

Washington, D.C. “I feel I can take the

best of the Sixties without it inhibiting me,”

he said. “It’s time to move on from the bat-

tles of yesteryear. Ideals are too important

to be stuck in a decade.” M.A.Colleen Ballerina Cohen: communes

Leonard Steinhorn ’77: the Youth Movement

Beginning with

Woodstock

What the Sixties mean to

the Eighties

by Brian Rutter ’83

This article was writtenfor the Quarterlyduring the author’s senior year.

Every summer from 1967 to 1971, my

family vacationed at our summer bungalow

in White Lake, New York, just north of the

Monticello Race Track. On Friday, my

father would drive up and spend the week-

end with us, leaving early Monday morning.

One weekend in 1969 he was unable to join

us. The road leading past White Lake was

jammed with cars, vans, buses, motor-

cycles, and thousands of people just walk-

ing. Occasionally a teenager or a group of

travelers would ask to use our bathroom or

have a drink of water. My mother, clad in

her usual Rosemarie Reid bathing suit,gladly said yes, slipping the kids some

money and food despite our neighbors’ ad-

vice to hide her purse and her jewelry. What

I didn’t know then was that these multi-

tudes were on their way to Woodstock, only

20 minutes away from our bungalow.

This memory of the 1960 s has stayed with

me most vividly. I can still see the multi-

colored shirts, the fringed leather jackets,the row after row of faded blue jeans, my-

self standing there in my Rob Roymix-’n-match, eyeing the denim’s delicate

patchwork. I can still recall the men with

dirty blond hair that reached down their

backs. The white bungalows, the old movie

theater, the still lake, seemed out of step

with these people.

What I didn’t recognize was the impor-

tance of the date. Woodstock has come to

represent a kind of symbol of the whole Six-

ties scene. The peaceful atmosphere, the in-

terlocking of emotion, and the jamming of

the great bands, all come down to us today

with incredible vitality. A single event like

Woodstock suspends as well as intensifies

one’s memory of the time.

Like most of my Vassar peers, I was born

early in the decade (1961). The period I

mean by “the Sixties,” then, really is the

late 19605/early 19705. For most of us, the

1960 s per se was a decade filled with

diapers, kindergarten, and endless games of

tag. I knew very little of civil rights protests,

drugs, or Vietnam. I was more concerned

with my Erector set and my spelling home-

work.

What information we have of the Sixties

usually is supported by our relatives who

are now in their thirties, and by the news

Brian Rutter was a history major at Vassar.

28 VQ Fall 1983

media. It seeps into our consciousness

through newsclip montages and books. (Ican still remember with great relish how I

read Tom Wolfe’s Electric Kool-Aid Acid

Test with wonder and disbelief.) The period

is captured for us in old LPs, in 1970smovies like Coming Home and Hair, and

an occasional television show called “What

Happened in 1967?”

Most of the Vassar students I spoke to in

the course of writing this article seemed to

have adapted what they learned in the late

1970 s and early 1980 s to their Sixties’ recol-

lections. “The whole concept of the 1960 s issomewhat lost on me. I guess I am a pro-

duct of the 19705, the Me Generation,” said

Karen Bitar ’B3, of Brooklyn. Ms. Bitar

does not share that great leftist feeling

which arose from the Sixties. She does not

want to march against the government or

take a liberal approach to a hot topic,

although she applauds the Sixties genera-

tion for its movements in civil rights and its

attempt to address large issues.

Many students would agree with her.

Bradley Kule ’B3, of Long Island, acknow-

ledges the Sixties’ historical importance,but does not comprehend the great emo-

tional attachment to the decade still held by

young people. “It’s as if they want the

1960 s to return,” he said. “They tend to

glorify a period that was brimming with

social unrest and violence.” He points to

protests against Vassar’s investment in

South Africa during the late 1970 s and to

recent nuclear energy rallies as things that

seem 1960ish in their stance.

One could walk around the Vassar cam-

pus now and see remnants of Sixties’ con-

frontation. Students in old army fatigues

talk with students in designer jeans and

polo sweaters. In the Mug, students in

faded denim dance to disco music after din-

ner, while later in the evening students in

Brooks Brothers suits dance to Jimi Hen-

drix. Students argue over the government’srole in El Salvador. During the U.S. presi-

dential election of 1980, some students

vehemently objected to the conservative

edge that swept the country while others

gladly welcomed it.

Internal campus tensions also seem

touched with deja vue. During the late fall

of 1982, for example, the Students Afro-

American Society (S.A.S.) discussed an

amendment to limit membership of the

organization to Black students. According

to the S.A.S., this discussion was inter-

rupted by staff members of the MiscellanyNews, who broke into the room and in-

fringed on S.A.S.’s right to a closed meet-

ing. The resulting furor over this event

caused divisiveness withinthe student body.S.A.S. held a rally against irresponsiblejournalism, while the Misc staff countered

with charges that their presence at the meet-

ing of a group supported by Vassar Student

Association funds had been legitimate. The

S.A.S. rally was filled with posters,

speeches, and attacks on the Misc. Some

students supported S.A.S. and applauded

loudly whenever the Misc was condemned.

I heard one junior turn to his friend and say

something about the correlation between

this gathering and Sixties’ protests. He felt

that rallies were outdated and on the verge

of being revolutionary. What I think the

S.A.S. rally showed is that students now

can handle a charged situation in a peaceful

manner just like many students in the

19605.

Rob Dunton ’B3, of Pasadena, summed

up the Sixties in a reasonable way. “[lt] was

a test of humanity,” said Mr. Dunton, who

comes from a traditionally conservative

family. “It not only served to show us the

necessary restrictions that exist in our living

together, but also forced us to reevaluate

what had become a static lifestyle. The Six-

ties was a letting go in response to the

19505’ conformist attitude.” His point puts

the Sixties into a larger context. We

wouldn’t have the great liberating periods

of the 1970 s without the great social unrest

directly preceding. Student disagreementover the focus of the Sixties isn’t as impor-

tant as the fact of its legacy. Contemporary

Vassar undergraduates find that much from

the era has been incorporated into their col-

lege lives. If Vassar hadn’t gone coeduca-

tional in 1970, for instance, I wouldn’t be

writing this piece.

In late October of my senior year, Cush-

ing held a Sixties party. The music of

Woodstock rocked the wooden room.

Paper peace signs hung from the ceiling.

Students danced the Monkey, the Twist, or

just rocked to the music. The period head-

bands, the wildly decorated T-shirts wereall

there and so were the designer jeans of

today. It’s as if we had one foot in Wood-

stock, and one in the stock market. TO

Ellen

Frankenstein'B4

A message displayed from a Main dorm room during the symposium on “Issues of Nuclear War,”

held at Vassar in the fall of 1982

29

Of sex, pearls, and

the languages of time

Glimpsesof Vassar

1929-33

by Lucille Fletcher Wallop ’33 Drawing by Walter Hearn

Every Vassar class contains outstanding individuals, but some

classes are so strong they’re legends. Among them is 1933. One

of its members, Eunice Clark Jessup, has written of its term at

college, “Those were the years when the Bonus Marchers, an

army of 20,000 ragged people marched on Washington and

camped for three months demanding their World War I bonuses,

only to be dispersed by the U.S. Army with tear gas; when the

farmers of lowa were pouring tanks of milk over rural roads;

when stockbrokers were jumping out of windows; when there

were calls for martial law. ... So why was it bliss to be alive

It isn’t easy to attend a 50th reunion. It

takes courage to face what time has done to

us. I remember standing as a sophomore on

the steps of Strong and watching the class

of 1881 straggle into view. Perhaps ten or

12 white-haired ladies were all who had

managed to get back for their 50th, but

proudly they were holding their class ban-

ner aloft, although some of them could

hardly walk. I remember thinking that their

love for Vassar was sufficiently compellingto make them forget their age, their

Dresden-doll fragility, their infirmities.

That was my conception of a 50th reunion,

and I could not imagine myself ever attend-

ing one. But here we are, and I’m happy to

see that we’ve turned out in such numbers,

so hale and hearty. And we’ve brought our

husbands. What a wonderful thing to have

so many young husbands. And we are all

instantly recognizable aren’t we? as

the young girls we used to be.

Can it be more than five decades since we

arrived on campus in the fall of 1929, in our

rolled stockings and cloche hats, with our

steamer trunks and laundry cases? Herbert

Hoover was President of the United States.

Henry Noble MacCracken was Vassar’s

president. Portly and affable, he was a

Chaucerian scholar who was capable of

levity. Once he did an imitation of Rudy

Vallee with a phonograph strapped to his

chest and Rudy crooning “I’m Just a Vaga-bond Lover.” With a megaphone in his

hand and a wavy red wig on his head, he

pantomimed Rudy’s pained expressions

and stilted gestures to such good effect that

it brought down the house. He had to do a

couple of encores.

Our class was a special one. It had been

hand-picked, they said, and was the

smallest ever admitted. In the entire student

body there were fewer than a thousand

girls. Vassar was expensive. It cost a thou-

sand dollars a year, later raised to twelve

hundred a year and if that doesn’t give

you a sense of time, then nothing will. Dur-

ing the four years we spent here the world

would change drastically. Almost im-

Lucille Wallop, writer of many suspense

novels and plays, is also the author of the

radio play Sorry, Wrong Number and the

Broadway play Night Watch. She lives in

Oxford, Maryland, with her author-hus-

band, Douglass Wallop.

mediately after our arrival the stock market

crashed. We saw the end of the jazz age, the

age of good times and Babbitt optimism.Soon our lives would be shadowed by the

Depression, and toward the end ofour stay

we would hear the rasping voice of Fascism,

the distant muttering of war.

But in September 1929 we didn’t know

this. We were thrilled. We were excited. All

our hard work in high school had paid off,and here we were. AT VASSAR! The best

school in the country. With a chance to

meet Yale men and carry the Daisy Chain.

Right away, before we knew it, we were

shuffled into the Group System, pre-

packaged families of 12 in which we had to

live, like it or not, for the next four years.

My group lived in Main, where I roomed

with Janet McLeod and Ozzy Osborne in a

large drafty suite consisting of a living room

and two small bedrooms. The living room

had a fireplace and two enormous win-

dows,. and the bedrooms had windows

fronting on a corridor. These accommoda-

tions were typical of Main at that time,

relics of Matthew Vassar’s day, when he

had built his female college in the style of

the Tuileries. As at the Tuileries, there were

no closets, only huge black armoires fas-

tened to the wall. Matthew Vassar didn’t

believe in closets. He felt that all a female

needed for her garments were two hooks,

one for her nightgown and one for her Sun-

day dress. She would be wearing her week-

day dress most of the time, and when she

took it off at night or on Sunday, she could

hang it on the hook which had just been

vacated.

In this room we got acquainted very

quickly indeed. Janet and Ozzy were from

private schools and knew the ropes, but I

was homesick and I drooped. To cheer me

up they taught me how to ferment cider

from the Cider Mill into an evil-smelling

brandy. They taught me how to ride a bi-

cycle and stay up late and smoke a corn-cob

pipe. I’ve never stayed up later than I did

those freshman nights. We did everything

but study: played Pounce, knitted sweaters,

painted furniture we’d bought for 50 cents

or a dollar at the Vassar Furniture Ex-

change. And talked, talked, talked about

everything under the sun sex mostly, of

course, but a lot about religion, a lot about

politics. I learned about lesbianism from

the current shocker, The Well of Loneli-

during the most ghastly years of the 20th century in America? It

was bliss, however temporary we knew it to be, because,provided we could get up the tuition, we were in a serene bubble

of a literary renaissance and a simultaneous explosion of social

protest, protected briefly by the ivied walls, and the empathy ofa great faculty.

”

(“Memoirs of literatae and socialists 1929-33, ”

Vassar Quarterly, Winter 1979). Mrs. Wallop’s essay below givesan account, tender and amused, of life at Vassar during that

extraordinary time. In a longer version, her piece was delivered

as a speech to 1933 at itsfiftieth reunion thispast June. M.A.

ness, which everyone passed around. And

sometimes a poor little girl preacher, one of

our classmates, would drop over to talk to

us. She was trying to convert all the fast and

loose Vassar girls to pure, saintly lives. She

played hymns for us, unaccompanied, on

her violin. She touched our hearts, but she

didn’t last longer than one term.

By sophomore year some of our roughedges were gone. We no longer ran into the

senior dining room at Main to grab up the

bricks of ice cream the seniors hadn’t eaten.

We learned that the only sweater was a

Brooks Brothers sweater and the only pro-

per skirt was made of Harris tweed. One

wore a real pearl necklace, nothing less,

with one’s sweater, and one’s hair in a

chignon. Over my family’s dead body I

grew in my windblown bob and bought a

lot of hairpins. I was beginning to look like

a Vassar girl, but unfortunately I had to

take swimming every morning at eighto’clock for the next two years, and no mat-

ter how many bathing caps I wore, no mat-

ter how many yards of canvas bandages I

wrapped my hair in, it stayed wet till supper

—a Vassar chignon smelling of chlorine.

Hairdos and pearl necklaces aside, we did

study at Vassar. Our teachers were wonder-

ful; I wish 1 could name them all. The in-

tellectual life was intense, and uninter-

rupted by the opposite sex. Long before

Woman’s Lib we were trained to think of

ourselves not as women, but as human be-

ings with brains it was our duty to develop.

At Vassar, equality with men was taken for

granted. It wasn’t shouted from the house-

tops, but was simply a fact of life. We could

marry and raise children, have careers, live

any way we pleased, but all our lives we

would retain that special core, that bedrock

of serene assurance and feminine dignity.

I remember some of the famous people

who visited us. Stephen Vincent Benet read-

ing from his “John Brown’s Body,” a shy,

diffident man with a reedy voice, peering at

us over horn-rimmed spectacles. Gabriela

Mistral, the Chilean poet, who taught here

long before she won the Nobel Prize. (She

had the face of a Mayan carving with her

massive head and broad Indian features, yet

her eyes were sky blue.) Mary Wigman,

who danced for us in pink bare legs and

silver tunic. And world-famous guitarists,

pianists, singers, and string quartets who

performed at Students almost every night in

30

Time was contained in the chiming of the library clock...a gentle

voice that never stopped telling us we must work hard, persevere, keep

faith with the scholarly life.

the week, except of course on Saturdays,when there was “J.”

“J” supposedly took care of our love

life, but it didn’t. It was just a place to take

boys you were bored with. And the girls on

the stag line were at heart not enthusiastic.

In the first place, they couldn’t cut in unless

introduced, and moreover they knew that

all the boys there were probably duds. If

they’d been at all attractive, they would

have been whisked away to the Outdoor

Cabin, where you could spend the weekend

(if you signed up early enough) in the

depths of the forest with your current be-

loved, with no chaperone, nothing but

the birds and the bees for company.

Vassar in general had a relaxed attitude

about sex. It put you on your honor as a

lady to behave properly. After freshman

year it took for granted that you knew a

thing or two. The student population for

the most part was also pretty sophisticated.

It included girls who spent their summers

on the Riviera, girls who’d gone to school

with duchesses in Switzerland, girls with

fathers in high places in Washington. I saw

my first Fortuny dress at Vassar. It was

worn to one of the proms by some slender,

exquisite upperclassman, a white, shimmer-

ing, knife-pleated silk gown that fitted her

hourglass figure like the skin of a snake.

With it she wore a Cleopatra-style wig

white strands of silk cut in bangs. She was a

vision out of ancient Egypt.

One of the most sophisticated places at

Vassar was the Experimental Theater,

where Hallie Flanagan reigned. Can it be 50

years since I sat spellbound before the play

she co-wrote with Margaret Ellen Clifford

(’29) about Okies, Can You Hear Their

Voices?, in which she used a newsreel in the

opening scene? In the years since, I’ve been

watching the theater catch up with Hallie

Flanagan. From the W.P.A. Theater on

through Orson Welles and Harold Prince,

on through a host of Off-Broadway pro-

ducers, she influenced generations with her

original ideas and innovative techniques. I

remember a play she did entirely in colors

red triangles and blue spheres lumbering

around the stage'and squeaking. And a play

done only with feet. A play done only with

pairs of hands. She even did a play that

took place inside a man’s head, with gray

configurations for scenery and two win-

dows for the eyes.

She attracted some truly avant-garde

people. I remember a set of Italian futurists

who came in full dress to one of her open-

ing nights, with their faces painted chalk

white like clowns and corsages of beets,

onions, and carrots pinned to their lapels.

And she had such a handsome husband. I

remember one enchanted evening, a spring

evening in the Outdoor Theater, when I

walked down the aisle on the arm of Phil

Davis, Hallie’s husband, the campus

Adonis who taught Latin and Greek. In my

yellow satin robe and cardboard circlet of

gold I was playing Anne of Bohemia to his

King Richard the First in a performance of

The Canterbury Tales. We sat in the front

row. A flute began playing an antique

melody. And out of the dusk, the darkening

semicircle of forest, came a lone figure, a

horseman in medieval doublet and gray

hood. He was followed by another and then

a whole processional of fairytale figures

melting out of the night as though from a

poet’s brain.

We talked a lot about Time in those days.

It was one of the preoccupations of Virginia

Woolf, whose novels were new then, and

very much in vogue. She wrote that time

could be contained in a flower, the fall of a

leaf. For us time was contained in the chim-

ing of the library clock which was with us

all through the long afternoons of study,

like a gentle voice that never stopped telling

us we must work hard, persevere, keep faith

with the scholarly life. For time was moving

on.

Can it be 51 years since the Prom? That

quintessence of formality, that night of ele-

gance? The young men wore white ties and

tails, and kid gloves, and dancing pumps

with little grosgrain bows. Some came in

top hats. Some brought bootlegged gin in

silver flasks, sipped in rumble seats or the

cavernous interiors of Pierce-Arrow

limousines. Every one ofus had a corsage

mostly gardenias, a few orchids. The band

cost a thousand dollars Glen Gray’s Casa

Loma Orchestra, the best of its time and

we had engraved prom programs, and

dance cards hung from our wrists by little

silken cords with tassels. The waltzes,

tangos, and fox trots were danced cheek to

cheek with many a gliding dip. Between sets

we sat in prom boxes we had fixed up our-

selves in the corridors of Students cozy

corners with divans and Indian prints and

leather hassocks sipping fruit punch and

eating cookies, smoking cigarettes from

monogrammed gold cases. . . .How far away it is.

How old it makes us feel.

That June day the following year when

we marched up the aisle to receive our

diplomas and tell Vassar College goodbye

now seems a world apart.

Yet here we are.

We have made it to the half-century

mark, a great achievement. Three wars have

taken place since our graduation day,

millions of people have been slaughtered,

and gorgeous cities bombed and rebuilt.

Many of us were born the year the Titanic

went down, and have lived to see man walk

on the moon. Now the silicon-chip age is

upon us, the robotic age, the genetic age,

the age of computers.

We are the survivors. We are the lucky

ones and tonight we think of those who

are unable to be with us. We don’t see their

faces, but in our memories they are eternal-

ly young. Our lives have been full-lengthnovels since graduation, containing love

and tragedy, death and parting, terrible suf-

fering, occasional triumphs. Our class has

lived up to its label “hand-picked” in

literature, sociology, science, medicine,

music. We have turned out novelists,

teachers, distinguished scholars, and dedi-

cated public servants. We have also given

the world our share of wonderful wives and

mothers, women who have been a joy to

their husbands, children, and grandchil-

dren. And as selfless volunteers in com-

munities all over America, many of us have

served the poor and furthered good causes,

giving time and money and ourselves.

We have kept faith with the principles we

were taught. To paraphrase Emily Bronte,Vassar went through and through us like

wine through water and altered the color of

our minds. And we are different persons

for it, women forever united in a bond of

the spirit which linked us during those years

with all the good things of life scholar-

ship and beauty and love for one’s fellow

man so that we are always seeking,

always hoping that some day, somehow,

this will be a better world.

And this unity of feeling is what makes

reunion a joy, a touching and a sharing of

all that was golden in 1933. [9Q

31 VQ Fall 1983

VassarPeopleFreshmen in focus

Nicole Blue ’87, of Atlanta,

Georgia, came to Vassar because

she wanted a good liberal arts

education and, at the same time,to be close enough to, but not in,

New York City. Nicole, who takes

ballet, jazz, and modern dance

classes at Vassar six days a week,

recognizes New York City as the

capital for dance and expects to

travel there sometimes to take

special dance classes. She attended

Northside High School for the Performing Arts in her home town,where she was elected to the National Honor Society and won the

Harvard Book Award, given to the high school junior who proves,

through academic excellence and extracurricular activities, to be

the most “well rounded” student. She also wrote for her school’s

literary magazine, and was named a Governor’s Honor Participant.

As such, she attended a six-week college communications seminar

during the summer of her senior year at Valdosta State College in

Valdosta, Georgia, where she helped write, produce, and anchor a

local television news program. At Vassar, she thinks that English

will be her major, and she hopes to pursue a career in the com-

munications field or in dance, “not necessarily in that order.”

“Vassar was my first choice,” says

Steven Goodman ’B7, of San

Diego, California. Wanting a

change from the “sun and surf” of

California to the “faster pace and

intellect” of the East, Mr. Good-

man is very happy with his selec-

tion. “I like the atmosphere of a

small school and also the special

attention one receives.” He at-

tended LaJolla High School in La-

Jolla, California, from which he

graduated with honors. After touring Israel for six weeks during

the summer of his high school junior year, he returned to that

country last summer to work in a marine biology center in Elat as

an intern. His interests include playing the drums (for 11 years),

tennis, and baseball. Mr. Goodman is thinking of majoring in

economics, with the goal of attending Harvard Business School

after graduating from Vassar. He said he chose a liberal arts

undergraduate school instead of a business school because he feels

that corporations today want as employees people who have liberal

arts backgrounds rather than those who may be “too specialized”

in business. Any complaints about the East? “I did not know it

would get so cold so quickly,” he answered.

Newell Young ’B7 attended

Oberlin High School in Oberlin,Ohio, where he took part in a

“little bit of everything.” He

played soccer, wrote for his school

newspaper, was a member of the

chess club, and participated in the

drama club. His many parts in-

cluded Happy in Death of a Sales-

man and George in Our Town. He

repeated his performance of

George in the Oberlin Collegeproduction of Our Town for the college’s sesquicentennial celebra-

tion. “It was a great experience because I got to work with collegestudents and faculty members and get away from the high school

scene a bit.” Mr. Young, whose father is on the Oberlin College

faculty, attended Laguna Beach High School in California during

his junior year when his father went to that area on a year-long sab-

batical. While there, Mr. Young was a member of the Artists

Repertoire Theater and performed in their production of Noel

Coward’s Hay Fever. He was in the National Honor Society and

was a National Merit Quarter Finalist, graduating sixth in his class.

He came to Vassar because “the drama department seemed pretty

good, and I like the compactness of the campus.”

“Between classes, studying, and

soccer practice, I am kept quite

busy,” said Marisa Premus ’87,

with a smile. She came to Vassar

from Rockland County, New

York, where she was also kept

busy. At Tappan Zee High

School, she was on the yearbook

committee, was a member of the

National Honor Society, and was

a varsity soccer player for four

years. Ms. Premus, who has been

dubbed the “freshman sensation” on the Vassar women’s soccer

team, played for three years in the Empire State Games — an an-

nual Olympics-style event for New York State residents — this past

summer as team captain. “We won the bronze medal last year,” she

said modestly. Ms. Premus belonged to the Rotary Interact Com-

munity Organization and was very active in community services.

Even though soccer is a great love of hers, her academic work has a

higher priority. “I chose to come to Vassar because I wanted to go

to a good school that had a soccer team. I did not let soccer choose

the school for me.” Ms. Premus is still undecided on a career,

though she knows that she wants to major in math-related sciences,

perhaps with a second major in sociology or psychology.— Denise Taylor ’85

Photos:DeniseTaylor’85

32

CampusNotes

Hockey harmony

A visit by the United States Women’s

Olympic Field Flockey team to the Vassar

campus in mid-October was one of the

highlights of the season’s athletic

schedule. The exhibition match, played

against the Vassar team and, in alternating

quarters, a team of players drawn from

several schools including Vassar, was one

of eight on the Olympic squad’s autumn

tour of New England colleges. Other stops

included Dartmouth, Wheaton, Smith,

Williams, and the universities of Vermont,Connecticut, and Southern Maine.

For Patricia Fabozzi, coach for both

Vassar and the U.S.A. Olympic Develop-

ment Program, the match was an oppor-

tunity to give her players “an experience

they will never forget.”

“It’s like listening to a concert pianist,”

she said two weeks prior to the game.

“The playing is executed with such

fluidity that you’re just inspired. Most of

the time it’s next to flawless.”

Ms. Fabozzi is an instructor of physicaleducation at Vassar as well as coach to

the field hockey and women’s basketball

teams, and the coed indoor field hockeyclub. During the past two summers, she

has offered a field hockey camp at Vassar,

for the past three years has run a similar

summer camp at S.U.N.Y./Cortland, and,since 1979, has coached at the grass-rootslevel in the U.S.A. Olympic Development

Program, training beginners and inter-

mediate-level players. “Their [Olympic

Development] standards are very

stringent,” she commented. “In the group

with which 1 was trained, only two out of

20 passed.”

Ms. Fabozzi came to Vassar after serving

as a full-time field hockey coach at

Indiana University. “When I was a

student, my dream was to be a full-time

field hockey coach. But then, after doing

that for four years, I felt that I wanted a

new challenge. I had taught in high

school, and I didn’t want to go back to

that. And 1 had taught in a communitycollege.” Arriving at Vassar two years

ago, she now says that her time at the

college has been the best of her pro-

fessional life. “The type of student athlete

we get here is just tremendous. They are

really willing and able to learn, and they

obviously are people who expect the best

of themselves. As a coach, that’s all I

have ever asked of anyone.”

As for working at a college that is best

known for the quality of its academic

program rather than its sports, Ms.

Fabozzi sees the two as complementing,

not competing with one another. “The

philosophy of Vassar College is liberal arts

diversity. Athletics fits into that

philosophy. It’s something different.”

Asked how she thought her team, which

includes eight freshmen, seven

sophomores, and five seniors, would fare

against the Olympians, she answered,

“When you play people who are as good

as they are, you don’t expect to win.

You’ll be one-on-one with someone, and

think that you’re really with them, and

then they go past you so fast that you

almost don’t believe it. They’re so good.

The score won’t be important. The en-

counters on the field will be. The players

on my team will never talk about the

score. They’ll talk about their individual

encounters.”

We won’t talk about the score either.

The Shakespeare Garden

as you like it

Long a point of aesthetic and sentimental

value to many, Vassar’s ShakespeareGarden has been a tough row to hoe in

recent years. During the mid-19705, a

financial squeeze resulted in the neglect of

the garden and its rapid evolution to a

state of natural disarray. It was partiallyrevitalized in the fall of ’77 and the springof ’7B through the joint efforts of a group

of students, faculty, and members of the

Poughkeepsie Vassar Club. At the time,plans were in the works for the completerefurbishing of the garden. In 1979/80,college horticulturist David Stoller reports,

there was further replanting. “We weren’t

doing anything major. But it was

beginning to look decent,” he commented

recently. In 1981, a brown brick wall was

constructed at the foot of the slopinggarden, parallel to the Fonteyn Kill. “A

Shakespeare Garden is a formal garden,”

Mr. Stoller explained, “and I think that it

should be completely enclosed. I put the

wall in to separate it from the natural area

beyond.”

Shortly after the wall was installed, a

new obstacle to the garden’s improvementcropped up. Plans were being drawn for a

new chemistry building, and its site was

still to be selected. One of the favored

locations encompassed the northeast slopeof the garden. Work on the garden was

halted pending a decision on the location

of the chemistry building.

Finally, in the summer of 1983, the

chemistry building having been firmly

planted on the north side of the science

quad, work was resumed on the

Shakespeare Garden. Steps and walks

leading into and through the garden were

rebuilt, and a brick circle the focal

point of the garden was installed. The

terraces were leveled, and drainage in the

lower region of the garden was improvedto make that area accessible even in the

wet springtime. “The basic outline and

construction are completed,” Mr. Stoller

said. “The soil needs to settle, and we

need to do some fine-tuning on the beds.

This fall, we will do some planting of

daffodil and crocus bulbs. And maybesome yews on the terraces along the walk,and some boxwood to edge the circle. But

much of the planting we hope to completein 1984.”

Sentiment aside, Vassar’s Shakespeare

Garden has also served educational

purposes. It has often supplemented

courses in the curriculum, starting with its

germination in 1916 as a project for

botany and Shakespeare students. This

has been true even through the garden’s

recent period of changing fortunes, when

it proved its relevance to the computer

age. In the spring 1983 semester, Leila

deCampo, lecturer in computer science,

took advantage of the concern on campus

regarding the garden’s disarray and

developed a special computer project

related to the garden for students in her

course, Computers in the Nonnumerical

World. “I try to gear at least one project

in the course to something that is current

at Vassar. I find that there is much more

student involvement and enthusiasm for

the work.” Ms. deCampo said she chose

the Shakespeare project because it was

multidisciplinary involving computer

science, botany, and English. “What each

student had to do was to write a computer

Fedora’s chorus

hreshman songsters at Noyes, including the

gent in the hat, listen up as the seniors

vocalize during Serenading ’B3.

Photos:

GeorgetteWeir

33 VQ Fall 1983

program that would store, in an easily

retrievable manner, all the information

about the plant that he or she was to

research.” This information included the

folklore and use of the plant; a full

botanical description, including its

appearance, hardiness, shade tolerance,

soil preference; and information regardingShakespeare’s mentions of the plant. “It

was a very successful project in terms of

generating enthusiasm,” Ms. deCampo

said. “Because the garden was in such

disarray, we felt a kind of missionary

purpose.” The enthusiasm for the garden

that Ms. deCampo said she found among

her students was further demonstrated bythe class of 1983, which directed that its

senior gift be used to help support the

garden’s renovation.

Renovation is proceeding, but Mr.

Stoller cautions that it will be some time

before visitors to campus can fully enjoy

the colors and fragrances of a flourishing

Shakespeare garden. Beds are still being

planned; plants are being researched,

ordered, and grown; and a sundial or

some similar object is being sought for

the circle. “Everybody wants to get

married there,” Mr. Stoller said with a

sigh of amusement, adding modestly, “I

hope it will be attractive enough.”

Good sports

On an early fall weekend in 1982, a

ribbon was cut and the Walker Field

House was unwrapped for the public. The

occasion included a quiet, decorous group

of about 100 students and alumnae/i who

stood together, with signs and banners, to

protest the denial of tenure to assistant

professor of physical education Roman

Czula. One year later, the business of

athletics has become more routine for the

field house and, as it turns out, for Mr.

Czula. After an appeal, he both won

tenure and was selected by his colleagues

to be chair of the Department of PhysicalEducation and Dance. Recently, he sat in

his Kenyon office and helped a reporter

decipher coaches’ summaries of their

teams’ weekend contests. “I think,” Mr.

Czula commented, “that any alumna or

alumnus coming back and walking

through this campus on any weekend

would be stunned by the amount of

activity going on. There is a pulse here.

It’s not a sleepy campus. There is more

activity now than I can remember at any

time since 1975, when I first came to

Vassar.”

The first weekend of October had been

especially busy. On Friday, the women’s

soccer team had hosted Smith (playing to

a 2-2 tie), while the field hockey squad

also competed against Smith (losing 9-1).

The golf team traveled to a tournament at

Skidmore (standings unavailable by press

time). On Saturday, Vassar hosted both

the Seven Sisters Volleyball Tournament

in Walker (the college placed sixth out of

eight teams) and the Seven Sisters

Invitational Cross-Country track meet,

which started and ended on the Ballintine

playing field. (Vassar ran fourth among

five competitors.) In tennis, the men’s

team traveled to S.U.N.Y./Albany to

participate in the Eastern Collegiate

Athletic Association Tournament (final

standings were not compiled before press

time), while the women went to West

Point to compete in the Eastern Collegiate

Tennis Tournament (ranking 14th out of

26 schools). Back at Vassar, on Prentiss

Field, the men’s soccer team was busy

beating Upsala, 6-0. On Sunday, the

fourth in a series of annual competitions

between alumnae/i and varsity teams was

staged: in rugby, the alumni beat the

students, 26-14; in men’s soccer, the result

was a 2-2 tie; and in women’s field

hockey, the varsity beat the alumnae, 6-2.

On the intramural schedule, 12 football

games (all men) were played, five softball

games (coed), six volleyball matches

(coed), eight three-on-three basketball

contests (all men), as well as several

matches in a semester-long racquetball

tournament (coed). An open rehearsal of

the Vassar Repertory Dance Theater

(coed) was scheduled to entertain

freshman parents, who happened to be

visiting campus that weekend. “We were

pretty well booked up,” Mr. Czula said

with a smile.

As the weekend demonstrated, one

reason that athletic activity has increased

on campus is that there is more space to

accommodate it. “Our indoor facility can

compare with that of any other

institution,” Mr. Czula said firmly.

“We’re able to host more tournaments

now because Walker provides us with

greater flexibility. And at the same time,we don’t have to shut the Vassar

community out of the facilities, because

there are alternatives.”

An additional benefit, Mr. Czula notes,

is the exposure Vassar gets when it hosts

an athletic event. “The very first

intercollegiate contest held in Walker was

in the fall of 1982,” he says, warming up

to what is obviously a favorite story.

“The women’s tennis team played the

women from West Point. That was

significant in itself, because it was raining

and normally the match would have been

cancelled.

“Anyway, an officer the West Point

teams all travel with an officer was

standing near me on the balcony, looking

over the five matches that were going on.

And he was muttering, ‘I wish we had

something like this at the Point.’ He was

stunned. He couldn’t believe that he was

at Vassar. The idea that Vassar has an

athletic facility that a West Point officer

would lust after is mind-boggling.”

Georgette Weir

Vassar student (left) and an alumnus during games on Alumnae// Day this fall

34

Get in touch

Vassar clubs around the world

United States

Alabama

Admission Chr.

Adeline Feidelson Kahn ’5O

3597 Springhill Rd.

Birmingham 35223

Alaska

Admission Chr.

Bettyrae Fedje Flanner ’7B

S.R.A. Box 133 V

Anchorage 99502

Arizona

Phoenix

Admission Chr.

Mary Cone O’Riley ’56

88 North Country Club Dr.

Phoenix 85014

Tucson

Sharon Kahn Weizenbaum

’56

920 Corinth

Tucson 85710

Arkansas

G. Lorene Lloyd Patterson

’54

27 Wingate Dr.

Little Rock 72205

CaliforniaEast BayLinda L. Tedeschi ’6B

517 The Alameda

Berkeley 94707

Fresno

Admission Chr.

Jonel Maoris Mueller ’69

933 East Pico

Fresno 93704

Co-Chr.

Barbara Blum Dahl ’69

2875 W. Athens

Fresno 93711

Monterey BayShirley Mills Sargent ’46

7068 Valley Greens Circle

Carmel 93923

Peninsula

Suzanne Mcllroy Gregg ’64

2041 West Hedding St.

San Jose 95128

San DiegoAda Slack Hunt ’5B

6226 Waverly Ave.

LaJolla 92037

San Francisco

Johanna Kelly ’Bl

3029 Buchanan St.

.San Francisco 94123

Santa Barbara/

Tri Counties

Nancy Dunlop Lohrke ’46

601 Por La Mar Circle,Apt. 312

Santa Barbara 93103

Southern California

Marcia Horr Grace ’67

124 Club Rd.

Pasadena 91105

Colorado

Ellie-Reed Lewis Koppe ’64

1310 Meadow Ave.

Boulder 80302

Connecticut

Greenwich

Barbara Vesey Reed ’5O

377 Cognewaugh Rd.

Cos Cob 06807

Mid-Fairfield

Adele Pleasance Edgerton’43

Wallack Point

Stamford 06902

Upper Fairfield

Barbara Currier Bell ’63

160 Harbor Rd.

Southport 06490

Hartford

Letitia Ewing Landry ’55

52 Norwood Rd.

West Hartford 06117

New Haven

Judith Greenspun

Bernstein ’624 Ranch Rd.

Woodbridge 06525

New London

Admission Chr.

Lee Wilcox Kneerim ’47

3 Gold St.

Stonington 06378

Northwestern Connecticut

Janet Mayer ’52

White Hollow Rd.

Lime Rock 06039

Delaware

Emily George ’77

2112 The Highway, Arden

Wilmington 19810

District of Columbia

Leslie Carter Silver ’7l

7822 Moorland La.

Bethesda 20814

Florida

Central Florida

Elizabeth Cornwall Tilley’35

360 Sylvan Blvd.

Winter Park 32789

Clearwater/Tampa/St. PetersburgAdmission Chr.

Mary Repole Andriola ’62

1320 Indian Rocks Rd.

Clearwater 33516

Fort MyersAdmission Chr.

Sylvia Chase Gerson ’66

812 Cape View Dr.

Ft. Myers 33907

North Florida

Elizabeth Howe Pettet ’25

7976 Woodpecker Trail

Jacksonville 32216

Pensacola

Admission Chr.

Viktoria Coleman-Davis

Schaub ’73

Rt. 1, Box 973

Innerarity Point Rd.

Pensacola 32507

Sarasota

Admission Chr.

Constance Buttenheim

Swain ’4l

4662 Gleason Ave.

Sarasota 33581

South Florida

Admission Chr.

Mira Tager Lehr ’56

5215 Pine Tree Dr.

Miami Beach 33140

GeorgiaCatherine Ann Binns ’72

1165 Zimmer Dr., NE

Atlanta 30306

Hawaii

Deane Waters Wentworth

’63

46-139 Heeia St.

Kaneohe 96744

Illinois

ChicagoEleanor Mack Raths ’56

455 E. Woodside Ave.

Hinsdale 60521

Indiana

Mary Albright Bradley ’44

1310 So. State Rd., 421

Zionsville 46077

lowa

Area Rep.Kathryn LaMair Peverill ’53

4225 Greenwood Dr.

Des Moines 50312

KentuckyAllis Eaton Bennett ’55

5519 Apache Rd.

Louisville 40207

Central KentuckyKatherine BreckinridgePrewitt ’5l

316 North Maysville St.

Mt. Sterling 40353

Louisiana

Lorraine Woods Thomas ’75

7843 So. Coronet Court

New Orleans 70126

Maine

Admission Chr.

Charlotte Rice Wilbur ’45-4

112 Mabel St.

Portland 04103

MarylandNell Gilmore Stanley ’65

1110 Bellemore Rd.

Baltimore 21210

MassachusettsBerkshire CountySandra Umanzio Stowe ’65

26 Brunswick St.

Pittsfield 01201

Boston

George F. Litterst ’75

28 Daniel St.

Newton Centre 02159

Fall River

Ruth Albro Holmes ’37

P.O. Box 30

Fall River 02722

Pioneer ValleyMary Jane Howe McDonald

’46

Box 265

Deerfield 01342

Worcester

Barbara Clark Bernardin ’56

78 Newton St.

West Boylston 01583

MichiganGrand RapidsCarolyn Pett Grin ’66

2840 Bonnell, SE

Grand Rapids 49506

Southeastern

Marlynn Weinsheimer

Barnes ’56

5567 Westwood La.

Birmingham 48010

Minnesota/Dakotas

Gertrude Smith Juncker ’63

16 E. Minnehaha Pkwy.Minneapolis 55419

MississippiAdmission Chr.

Darnell L. Nicovich ’7B

505 Lameuse St.

Biloxi 39530

Missouri

Kansas CityJean A. D. Hullsick ’54

6115 Howe Dr.

Shawnee Mission 66205

St. Louis

Suzanne Chapman Jones ’6l

110 Aberdeen PI.

Clayton 63105

Montana

Admission Chr.

Irene Piekarski Dorr ’64

411 Highland Park Dr.

Billings 59102

Nebraska

Emily Goodwin Kemp ’5l

740 North Happy Hollow Blvd.

Omaha 68132

New JerseyCentral New JerseyMary Clyde Marsh Seivard ’44

360-c Northfield La.

Rossmoor-Jamesburg 08831

Essex

Lillian E. Jasko ’55

10 Evergreen Court

Glen Ridge 07028

Jersey Hills

Lois Lieber Leventhal ’59

24 Hilltop Circle

Whippany 07981

New Jersey Shore

Marilyn McManus Largay’ss24 Buttonwood Dr.

Fair Haven 07701

35 VQ Fall 1983

To assist those alumnae and

alumni who want to

maintain their Vassar

connections, the Quarterlypublishes the names and

addresses of Vassar club

contacts each fall. Exceptwhere otherwise noted, the

individuals listed are club

presidents.

Northern New Jersey

John Wolf ’74

535 Grenville Ave.

Teaneck 07666

New Mexico

Admission Chr.

Emily Hoda Garber ’76

Dept, of AnthropologyUniv. of N.M.

Albuquerque 87131

Co-Chr.

Sudye Neff Kirkpatrick ’63

Box 1417

Santa Fe 87501

New York

Long Island

Nancy Mae Burns Hurley ’63

392 West Neck Rd.

Lloyd Harbor 11743

New York CityClaire Mather Sheahan ’64

401 East 65th St., Apt. 11-G

New York 10021

Northern New York

Admission Chr.

Judith Levine Lempert ’59

19 Pheasant La.

Delmar 12054

PlattsburghAdmission Chr.

Eleanor Garrell Berger ’64

6 Lakeview Dr.

Mounted Route 8

Plattsburgh 12901

PoughkeepsiePhebe Townsend Banta ’6l

1 Hornbeck RidgePoughkeepsie 12603

Rochester

Ellen Hahn Croog ’65

40 Boniface Dr.

Rochester 14618

SyracuseBetsy Nelson Stone ’55

5221 Longridge Rd.

Jamesville 13078

Westchester

Jane Bertuleit Hoelscher

’7l-’72

Rte. 9

Garrison 10524

Western New York

Jo Kaplan Nasoff-Finton ’67

760 Robin Rd.

West Amherst 14228

North Carolina

Caroline Dern Johnston

’6B-’7O

4005 Bristol Rd.

Durham 27707

OhioCincinnati

Betty Ann Glas Wolf ’4B

1102 Sunnyslope Dr.

Cincinnati 45229

Cleveland

Clare Weed Obermeyer ’56

3454 Rolling Hills Dr.

Cleveland 44124

Toledo

Area Rep.Marion Bridgewater Kapp’4O

3602 Edgevale Rd.

Toledo 43606

Oklahoma

East

Admission Chr.

Josephine Grasselli Winter

’53

1819 East 27th St.

Tulsa 74114

West

Sherry Sullivan ’72

1817 Westminster

Oklahoma City 73120

Co-Chr.

Elizabeth Mygatt Nitschke

’63

6701 North Rhode Island

Oklahoma City 73111

OregonCaroline Rockwell Lobitz

’35

2211 S.W. First Ave., #1603

Portland 97201

PennsylvaniaGreater Wilkes-Barre

Mary Hooper Kiley ’35

R.D. 5, Sutton Rd.

Shavertown 18708

PhiladelphiaShirley Cruze Baird ’42

613 New Gulph Rd.

Bryn Mawr 19010

PittsburghLucy Thiessen Rawson ’6l

6401 Darlington Rd.

Pittsburgh 15217

State CollegeAdmission Chr.

Diane Steinman Greenfield

’62

600 N. McKee St.

State College 16801

Rhode Island

Emily Stone Cocroft ’39

7 Barnes St.

Providence 02906

South Carolina

Admission Chr.

Elizabeth Hardy Spence ’65

2057 Shady La.

Columbia 29206

Tennessee

Knoxville

Area Rep.Judith Haas Sumner ’72

5325 Shady Dell Trail

Knoxville 37914

Memphis

Area Rep.Elizabeth Nelson Smith ’52

6562 Bramble Cove

Memphis 38119

Texas

Dallas/Ft. Worth

Kathleen P. Schaffer ’69

3747 McMillan, Apt. #2OIA

Dallas 75206

Houston

Sandra Granville Sheehy ’67

P.O. Box 13447

Houston 77219

San Antonio

Frances Kallison Ravicz ’6O

c/o Yarn Barnes

4803 Broadway

San Antonio 78209

Vermont/New HampshireJean Pierce Stetson ’4O

R.D. #1

Box 438

Concord, NH 03301

VirginiaCentral VirginiaCarol Sutherland Keenan ’6O

102 Penshurst Rd.

Richmond 23221

Virginia Beach

Area Rep.

Margaret Ten Hagen Green-

wood ’45-4

4500 Yarmouth Court

Virginia Beach 23455

WilliamsburgAdmission Chr.

Jean Wyer ’7O

140 Pasbehegh Dr.

Williamsburg 23185

Washington State

Carolyn Shafer Bledsoe ’63

14020 Northwood PL, NW

Seattle 98177

Co-Pres.

Lucy Burch Steers ’65

2817 Cascadia St.

Seattle 98144

West VirginiaAdmission Chr.

Audrey Schwartz Horne ’55

Patricia Dr.

Wheeling 26003

Wisconsin

Kristin Kemper Kronenberg’67

8305 N. Regent Rd.

Milwaukee 53217

ForeignBelgiumArea Rep.Barbara Callihan Eloy ’79

AV Frangois Folie 30 (BTE27)1180 Brussels

Canada

QuebecAdmission Chr.

Carol Buettner Marley ’64

1 St. George’s PI.

Montreal H3Y 2L2

Ontario

Mary Balfour Anastassiadis

’6B

46 Gormley Ave.

Toronto M4V IZI

China

Admission Chr.

Thomas N. Canellakis ’Bl

USA Student

Shao Yuan 2-516

Beijing Univ.

BeijingPeople’s Rep. of China

EnglandSally Pearce McNulty ’62

50 Springfield Rd.

London NWS

Vassar link-ups on terra firma or otherwise

It’s a world on the move. But whether you’re circling the

globe or the universe, you’ll inevitably find a Vassar

alumna/us. When you do, you’ll also find a chance to

meet the natives, make a friend or few, reminisce about

Vassar then and now, and do something important for

higher education by participating in Vassar admission and

fundraising work. The need and the opportunity to get

involved have never been greater.

Today there are 71 Vassar clubs dotting the maps of

the United States and Europe. (The count for outer space

is as yet uncertain.) Why not make a connection?

Liz Wexler Quinlan ’59, AAVC Publicity Director

France

Joan Zimmerman

Shore ’56

24 rue des Grands

Augustins

Paris 75006

Greece

Admission Chr.

Nancy Settle Miles ’53

20, M. Botsari, Filothei

Athens

Guatemala

Admission Chr.

Dorcas Billings Taylor ’6l

American EmbassyGuatemala

APO Miami 34024

ItalyAdmission Chr.

Mary Flaupt Grayson ’74

Milano Viale

Abruzzi 23

SpainAdmission Chr.

Marilyn Galusha Ferreras

’6l

Los Alamos de Bularas 27

Pozuelo de Alarcon

Apdo. 36154

Madrid 23

Thailand

Admission Chr.

Elaine Toy Assarat ’62

16/4 Sukhumvit Rd.

18, Bangkok

United Arab

EmiratesArea Rep.Peter M. Weiss ’BO

c/o ABN Bank

P.O. Box 2567

Deira-Dubai

West Africa

Admission Chr.

Nancy Wills Keteku ’72

Catholic Relief Services

1011 First Ave.

New York 10022

36

Books

Something for Nothingby Kathryn Kilgore ’67

Seaview Books, 1981

261 pages, $13.50, hardcover

Something for Nothing chronicles the

adventures ofa young woman who is an in-

veterate and accomplished thief. She has

the professional know-how to steal almost

anything with ease: an emerald ring from a

jeweler’s, a wallet from a moviegoer’s

pocketbook, a can of crabmeat off a super-

market shelf. Her creator names her Molly,

a coincidence which seems to invite com-

parison with Defoe’s Moll Flanders. Like

her predecessor, Ms. Kilgore’s Molly carries

out her larcenous projects with poise and

aplomb, often working in borrowed finery.

She shares the eighteenth-century Moll’s

cynical contempt for the people she so suc-

cessfully dupes and robs, as well as the first

Moll’s tendency to translate all human

needs into monetary terms. And just as

Defoe’s Moll uses poverty and circum-

stances to justify her career as a thief, so the

contemporary Molly comforts herself with

a pseudo-Marxist “class analysis” of her

world: other people are con artists and rob-

bers who happen to operate on the right

side of the law. “You rob from the rich

what they’ve robbed already.” Moll and

Molly both believe that self-interest is the

guiding principle of every living being, a

philosophy which causes them to live

curiously isolated and friendless lives. Even

people whom they claim they love, they see

primarily as tools to be used in some

scheme.

Ms. Kilgore moves her heroine into the

twentieth century by providing complex

motives for her behavior, motives which are

not solely economic. Behind most of

Molly’s large-scale attempts at theft there

lies a romantic, regressive fantasy of re-

claiming the farm which was her childhood

home. She equates recovery of the place

with recovery of all the things she has lost,most importantly with the father, mother,and brother who died during her growing-

up years. She translates her feeling of hav-

ing been cheated by life into an urge to

cheat others, to get back some of her own.

Her inner emptiness also expresses itself in a

perpetual leanness and a frantic appetite for

Books for Quarterly notice should be sent

to: Susan Osborn (book editor), 424 W.

57th St., #4-D, New York, NY 10019.

Books for the Alumnae// collection in the

library should be sent to: Vassar Quarterly,

Alumnae House, Poughkeepsie, NY

12601, attn.: Alumnae/i Collection.

Alumnae/i interested in reviewing poetry,

food. She is always hungry, either eating or

else wishing she were. She is especially

prone to attacks of hunger when she is ply-

ing her trade, driven by a “devouring pas-

sion” which cannot be satisfied by the

money and goods which she steals.

When I think about why I do these things I getno answers. ... I just know when it starts. It

starts always with a feeling. A feeling like

hunger; but it’s not hunger because it can’t be

filled, not with all the lilacs in the world, all the

dusky nights, all the beautiful strangers. I justknow my share of normal life, security, idealism,childhood whatever crap you want to call it,whatever other people got was put in God’s

Cuisinart and shredded.

Molly is shaken out of her compulsive need

to remake the past when she tangles with

the Mafia and is defeated by a group of

people who play rougher than she does. Her

stepbrother sells the farm to a developer

and the place, as she knew it, is irrevocably

destroyed. Once the farm is gone, there is

nothing left in the world worth the taking,

no reason to steal. Unlike Moll Flanders,

who reforms because she finally gets

enough (“grew Rich, liv’d Honest, and died

a Penitent”), Molly changes because she

finally loses everything.

Ms. Kilgore’s attempt to make her

heroine more psychologically credible than

Defoe’s is not entirely successful. Molly is

far from a likeable character, and we are

not convinced that we want to sympathize

with her just because she gets beaten at her

own game in the end. It’s hard to believe

that her traumatic failure to recover her old

home can transform her from a manipula-

tive loner into a person who appreciates the

value of human attachments. At the end of

the book, she suddenly decides that it is

people who matter: her old friend Georgia

(sometimes an unwitting accomplice in

Molly’s adventures) and her lover Jim (not

so unwitting an accomplice). But since Jim

is a drug pusher who speaks “weasel

words,” he scarcely seems worthy of the

trust and affection Molly now says she feels

for him. And we have small reason to place

confidence in Molly’s feelings: throughout

most of the book she indulges in an am-

bivalent and quasi-incestuous passion for

her alcoholic stepbrother, who turns out to

be a murderer and betrayer. We naturally

question whether her new protestation of

affection for a whining drug dealer is liable

to prove any more admirable. She is pre-

fiction, nonfiction for a general audience,or scholarly work are asked to send a

letter and tearsheets to Ms. Osborn at the

above address. Unfortunately, owing to

the number of volumes received, individual

acknowledgements of books cannot be

sent out.

sented so clearly as a psychopathic person-

ality that her supposed transition to warmth

and normalcy seems as improbable and

morally meaningless as Moll Flanders’s

“penitence” in prosperity.

It is the details of Molly’s criminal career

which engross us, not her psychological

development and this is the final point of

congruence between Ms. Kilgore’s book

and Defoe’s. We are fascinated by Molly’s

ingenuity as a thief, absorbed in learning

about her style and technique. The true

heart of her story is the complicated plotshe devises for stealing stolen paintings

from the Mafia. Her one-woman operation

is full of puzzles and suspense, a detective

story told from the inside out. In construct-

ing this intricate and surprise-packed

mystery, Ms. Kilgore shows real talent. If

her book shares some of the weaknesses of

its eighteenth-century model, it also shares

its strengths, and even improves upon

them. Judith Saunders

For more about Judith Saunders, see her

feature on geography in this issue.

The Making of the Pre

hv Francis Poneeuj i lautn jl uugc

translated by Lee Fahnestock ’50

University of Missouri Press, 1979

238 pages, $14.95, paper

Francis Ponge’s La Fabrique du Pre as of-

fered in Lee Fahnestock’s translation com-

bines artistic and poetic elements which in-

vite our instant delectation. The 1971 pub-lication by Editions Skira of a facsimile

edition of the journal that Ponge kept while

working toward the final version ofa seven-

page poem inspired the present volume.

Here, the English text appears opposite its

French handwritten original, and is inter-

spersed with 14 full-color illustrations rang-

ing from a Pol Limbourg miniature to

Chagall’s “The Poet Reclining” and

Picasso’s “Spring.”

If Francis Ponge stands today as a

singular and most rewarding poet, it is, as

Ms. Fahnestock makes clear in her elegantand lucid preface, for his relentless explora-tion of the infinite connections between

nature and language as well as for the

authentic spirit of jubilation from which his

37 VQ Fall 1983

writing springs. His texts are intended to

function as mediators between the human

world and the world of things, while his

craft consists of seeking the closest possiblecorrespondence between the thing and the

word so that their perfect fusion might fill

both poet and reader with exultation.

Moved by a Promethean conviction that

everything remains to be said about the

nature ofthings, he works at the crossroads

of the materialistic and ontological interro-

gations to which nature and language lend

themselves.

Given the particular poetics governing it,

La Fabrique du Pre may well have provedto be a translator’s paradise. As an ex-

emplary unveiling of the process of crea-

tion, it reflects the tendency of much

French art to combine simplicity of form

with complexity of thought. Ms. Fahne-

stock’s elucidation of the many levels of

poetic expression at work within what M.

Ponge prefers to call an “essay” aptly

reveals their rich interplay. Three comple-

mentary modes of apprehension enable the

poet to draw conjointly on sensorial reality,

replete with metaphoric associations, on

linguistic reality with its wealth of etymo-

logical ramifications illuminating the poly-

semic nature of words, and finally on

philosophic reality, viewed in Nietzschean

fashion, as an unending cycle of birth,

death, and resurrection.

Through such cultivation of the expand-

ing reverberations of sound and sense, M.

Ponge aims to achieve the utmost solidarity

with the object of his contemplation. His

fascination for the pre (meadow) grew from

an initial aesthetic emotion to the gradual

elaboration of a veritable cluster of

linguistic, cultural, and philosophic associa-

tions. Thanks to its versatility, the pre

becomes in his eyes the most perfect

linguistic symbol; it is a phoneme which

serves as syntaxic prefix (as in prepare and

presence)-, and its homonyms, pres (near)

and pret (ready) provide a fertile ground for

the poet’s keen linguistic instincts and

semantic intuitions. On the auditory level,

the syllable pre is compared to the plucking

of a string, the brief note of a harpsichord.

Object and word thus gradually assume a

multidimensional reality, attaining what we

might call full existential status.

Continued on page 64

PersonPlace&Thing

Thinking about a new career? The shortage

of qualified math and science teachers is

critical. To address this crisis in our

schools, the Harvard Graduate School of

Education offers a one-year specialized

master’s degree program to train those at

midcareer to become teachers. For further

information, write; Dr. Katherine Merseth,

Harvard Graduate School of Education,

106 Longfellow Hall, Cambridge, MA

02138.

Did you know that there’s more than one

newspaper at Vassar? Investigate the college

with UNSCREWED. We give you more

than miscellaneous information. Issues af-

fecting the whole community, including the

opinions of students, faculty, and ad-

ministrators, are explored in depth. The

public interest is our concern and Vassar is

our public. Join us and support a necessary

element of the Vassar community of ideas.

Subscribe now! Six issues for $lO. Send

check to: UNSCREWED, P.O. Box 178,

Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

For sale: three cottages on three secluded

acres. Lots of pine trees; ten minutes to

Woodstock, New York; one-half hour to

Hunter Mountain ski area. Well on proper-

ty, electric and telephone lines installed.

Needs work, low taxes. Graduate of 1981

asking $24,500. Call 914/357-4972 evenings

or weekends.

For rent, Scottsdale, Arizona. Beautiful,

new, fully furnished, two-bedroom, two-

bath townhouse in recently restored historic

Casa Blanca Camelback Mountain area.

Private patio. Tennis, pool, golf, Scottsdale

shopping within walking distance. One

month minimum. No pets. Contact: Nancy

B. Riegel (’57), 14 Surplus St., Duxbury,

MA 02332, 617/934-5161.

Sublet available for February. Looking for

a pied-a-terre on the East Side? Comfort-

able one-bedroom apartment will be unoc-

cupied for a month to six weeks, and I’m

looking for someone to baby-sit my plants.

Walking distance from Midtown, round the

corner from shopping district and

restaurants. Please contact: Shane Mitchell

(’79), 1229 First Ave., New York, NY

10021.

Hudson River debut. Announcing a new

album of original compositions by

guitarist/composer Stephen Funk Pearson

’ll. In April of this year, the Times of

London called Mr. Pearson a performer

“with an impressive command” and “a

composer of rare sympathy.” The music on

this album represents a unique blend of

popular and classical styles with broad ap-

peal. Copies are available on the Vassar

campus at Cardinal Puff in the College

Center, or direct from Kyra Records, 5

Willow Dock Rd., Highland, NY 12528.

Cost is $B/album (U.S.A. and Canada), $9

(overseas, allow four weeks for delivery).

Prices include postage.

Theater theater theater is what I’ll be study-

ing in London from early January through

June ’B4. Although enthralled, I do realize

that I need a place to sleep, so I’m looking

for a small, inexpensive flat to rent in the

Hampstead area. I am amenable to house-,

plant-, and cat-sitting, and to roommates.

Please send hot tips to: Brilane Bowman

[’Bs], P. O. Box 1285, Vassar College,

Poughkeepsie, NY 12601.

Wanted: to rent. Permanent retirement

home, small (two bedrooms), within an

hour or so of Boston (in Massachusetts or

any of the bordering states), in walking

distance of a grocery and pharmacy, with

the privilege to garden, and with country

roads for walking. C. Gordon Post [pro-

fessor emeritus of political science at Vassar

and Wells], P.O. Box 81, Aurora, NY 13026.

Experienced house-sitters available. Young

couple (’B5 and ’B3) seek a house/

apartment-sitting position in any locale. We

have had experience with houseplants, yard

maintenance, and pets. References avail-

able upon request. Contact: Victor Block,

5415 Connecticut Ave. N.W., Apt. #823,

Washington, DC 20015, 202/364-0705.

Professional couple (attorney, M.D.

V.C. ’74, ’ll) would like to house-sit or

rent a house or an apartment in the greater

Boston area from December 1983 to June

1984, or any part thereof. References

available. Please write: P. Costa, Box 573,

Brookline, MA 02146.

Stephen Funk Pearson ’77

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62

All the resources of language have been

called upon to arrive at the essential equa-

tion between the soil and the page, between

the traces appearing on the ground and

those inscribed on paper, between the

movement of a bird’s flight over the pre

and the reverse movement of the acute ac-

cent over the letter e on the page. The word

pre, entering, as it does, in a series ofnames

(e.g. Josquin des Pres) or locutions is also

reminiscent of the Pre aux clercs, the

historic dueling ground where

Of the two equals that arrive upright, one at

least

After a crossed assault of oblique blades

Will remain couched,First above and then below.

The dialectic structure at work here

permeates the elaboration of meaning

throughout the poem, as the vertical vegeta-

tion, antithetically related to the horizontal

ground, becomes charged with inevitable

connotations of life and death. The evoca-

tion of the poet’s own death follows, sig-

naling the end of the poem, as he requests

the typographers to couch his name below

the last line.

In lowercase, quite naturally,Save for the initials, of course,

Since they are also those

Of Fennel and of Purslane

That tomorrow will grow above.

Francis Ponge

Through temporal, spatial, visual, and

musical metaphors, through philosophic

and linguistic exploration, M. Ponge comes

as close as his alchemist’s powers will per-

mit to the transmutation of the very texture

of reality into words. His reverence for

language and nature has sometimes led him

to call them “divine.” And we, in turn,

coming upon his poetry, may experience a

sense of wholeness restored.

Lee Fahnestock’s sympathy with M.

Ponge’s aesthetic premises is evident: she

has captured the soul of the text with true

finesse. My only reservation concerns her

conscious decision to give variable formula-

tion to a number of lines which recur iden-

tically in the original. This multiplicity of

renditions seems to detract from the simple

precision which is one of M. Ponge’s trade-

marks. But no translation is an exact copy

of the original, and the final impression one

has is of utmost delight upon acceding to

the intimate record of a poem in the mak-

ing. A very gratifying gift.

Marguerite Le Clezio ’62

Marguerite Le Clezio is an assistant pro-

fessor of French at Vassar.

An Experience of Women:

Pattern and Changein Nineteenth-Century Europeby Priscilla Robertson ’3O

Temple University Press, 1982

673 pages, $35 hardcover

In the chapter “If Ignorance Is Bliss. . . ”

of An Experience of Women, Priscilla

Robertson relates a tale about an old

Virginia lady whom she regards as a

“perfect exemplar” of Victorian woman-

hood.

When she became engaged, in the mid-nineties,her married sister, Alice, came to her and said,“Now, Ella, there is one thing you ought to

know before you get married. It is that men, nice

men, have certain desires repeatedly, perhaps as

often as once or twice a week!” Alice had

become mixed up from reading about bees be-

fore she was married, and had gotten the notion

that sex involved a single consummation which

lasted for life. Ella was not in the least fazed at

her sister’s words. “Oh, I know all about that,”was her cheerful response. “I’ve read my Bible!”

To my natural inquiry whether Alice had not had

just as much chance to read the Bible, Ella

answered that she supposed so, but somehow“that part” had gone over her head.

An Experience of Women is filled with

such anecdotes which help Ms. Robertson

weave a complex tapestry of women’s lives

in nineteenth-century Europe. Roughly the

first half of this large book is devoted to de-

picting the sexual, familial, educational,

occupational, and social mores of upper-

and middle-class women in England,

France, Germany, and Italy. The latter part

deals with the lives of those women who

broke from these patterns and turned to

public and political life rather than to the

domestic world for fulfillment.

The vignettes are drawn from a wide

variety of sources: contemporary novels,memoirs, travel books, advice manuals for

the young, journals, and literary reviews, as

well as secondary sources. Ms. Robertson’s

sources are staggeringly voluminous and

eclectic: her bibliography is 46 pages longand will be a gold mine for those wishing to

follow up their reading with other works by

or about nineteenth-century women. Be-

cause the book contains materials from

four countries, it allows one to compare at-

titudes and practices ofdifferent cultures; it

is, for example, amusing and instructive to

compare British disdain for the French

practice of arranged marriage with French

contempt for love matches, the correspond-ing British practice. Without falling into

cultural stereotypes, Ms. Robertson suc-

cessfully highlights national differences in

attitudes toward women, marriage, and

family.

Although the book is concerned with

women’s emancipation during the course of

the nineteenth century, Ms. Robertson does

not impose a single thesis on her material,

nor does she make these wide-ranging data

fit into any pattern. Partly as a result of this

tendency to let the sources speak for them-

selves, the book can be “dipped into” at

will rather than requiring a straight-

through, beginning-to-end perusal. How-

ever it’s read, it will enlighten and reward

those eager to know something of the lives

of upper- and middle-class Europeanwomen of the nineteenth century.

Mary Lyndon Shanley

Mary Shanley is an associate professor of

political science at Vassar. In 1983/84, she

will be at work on a book aboutfeminism in

Victorian England under a grantfrom the

National Endowment for the Humanities.

The Foods and Wine of Spainby Penelope Casas ’65

Alfred A. Knopf, 1982

457 pages, $17.95 hardcover

Spanish cuisine remains relatively unknown

in America. All that will change though, if

Penelope Casas has her way. Ms. Casas has

criss-crossed the Spanish countryside, and

written a welcome and comprehensive guide

to traditional Spanish fare. Her book con-

tains over 400 recipes, most of which are

easy to follow and demand only an adven-

turous spirit and a willingness to spice gen-

erously. Ms. Casas covers every part of the

meal, introducing each section with a short,

lively historical or regional narrative. The

last chapter provides a systematic guide to

Spanish wines. If you always thought that

Spanish cooking was only gazpacho and

paella, you have a real treat in store.

Michael S. Kimmel ’72

For more about Michael Kimmel, see his

feature on the Sixties in this issue.

Books

Continued from page 39

63 VQ Fall 1983

theLastPage

Blessingsby Lisa Johnson Fleck ’66

On April 18, 1980, I lay in New York Hospital recuperating from

surgery on my Fallopian tubes. My neatly structured world was

falling apart. My husband and 1 had decided that the climate was

finally right, emotionally and financially, to have children. In 1974,I had undergone an ectopic pregnancy which irreparably damaged

my left tube. Now, at the age of 34, I had just been told that

surgery on my congenitally defective right tube had failed. I was in-

fertile. For someone who had wanted children since picking up her

first doll, it was a terrible blow. I felt I had lost control over a most

important aspect of my life. That night, 1 cried unabashedly behind

closed curtains. A nurse tried to comfort me, the beginning of a

long succession of sympathetic words from family, friends,

strangers, and not least, my husband, Vinny, whose support

throughout the ordeal was crucial.

Then, two important yet separate events which would radically

change our lives took place. My obstetrician-gynecologist urged me

to see a couple he knew who had recently adopted. And in the

course of my work as a librarian with the Reader’s Digest editorial

department, I began to see articles on Howard and Georgeanna

Jones’s experimental in vitro fertilization clinic in Norfolk,

Virginia.

The first of these events was to bring us our daughter, Jocelyn.The couple we met counseled us to adopt privately, as they had

happily done. It was relatively inexpensive, it was legal, and it cut

through the five-to-seven year wait regularly faced through adop-

tion agencies.

By December, through a chance conversation with a mutual

friend, a colleague of mine from Columbia graduate school had

heard of a baby. Jocelyn was only a month from being born, and

her out-of-state mother was anxious to find her a good home. We

flew to meet the young mother and agreed among us that adoption

was feasible. Two weeks later, she came to New York at our ex-

pense to give birth. I ran from the delivery room to the waiting

room to tell Vinny. In tears, we hugged one another. Fifteen

minutes later we were clasping Jocelyn’s tiny hand. She was

perfect; she was lovely. After some tense months, and scores of

financial, medical, and legal documents in our support, the court

declared us to be Jocelyn’s legal parents.

If all prospective couples had to show similar fitness for parent-

hood, there would be far fewer children in the world and many

more responsible adults.

The same year, 1980, we simultaneously pursued another course

of action in vitro fertilization. It was a slim hope. Although

several births had been achieved inEngland, the American clinic in

Norfolk after facing great resistance from the right-to-lifers,

“After rewarding stints in publishing, and then dead-end jobs,”

Lisa Fleck received her master’s in Library Service from Columbia

University in 1978. She hopes to return to a librarian’s career

“someday, when the children are in school.”

Fame, fortunately,

she says, has been brief, and the Fleck family lives quietly in

Woodhaven, Queens. The children “continue to be healthy, active,

and demanding that is, normal in every way.” The Flecks like in-

formally to help couples considering adoption and in vitro pro-

grams “any way we can.”

who accused it of destroying embryos had just opened its doors.

On the basis of an examination, including, for me, a laparoscopy,

the Drs. Jones accepted Vinny and me into their program in

September. Since we then had no inkling of Jocelyn’s existence, we

made a psychological commitment to the in vitro process, even

though no American pregnancies by that method were yet in the

offing. We maintained that commitment after Jocelyn’s birth.

This resulted in our son, Daniel the ninth in vitro baby to be

born in the United States.

Circumstances dictated that a full year go by from the time of

our acceptance by the clinic to our first try. I went first, alone. The

regimen there, though not particularly painful, was uncomfortable

and boring: weeks of daily injections, blood analysis, sonograms,

and still another laparoscopy to harvest the multiple eggs the

method by which the Joneses had finally achieved their first

pregnancy. Other women going through the program traded stories

of operations and of adoptions which had fallen through. This

proved to be useful group therapy. We all hoped against hope. Vin-

ny joined me at the clinic mid-cycle, to make his essential contribu-

tion and to bolster me psychologically. We flew home, dreaming of

good results. But nothing happened.Three months later we returned to try again. Miraculous news. It

had worked!

Daniel was born October 31, 1982, in the same hospital where

Jocelyn had been delivered. His was a normal delivery, not

Caesarean section as most of the in vitro babies had been. Vinny

was able to watch the birth. The same nurse who previously

counseled me in baby care now lent her advice on breastfeeding.

Daniel looked beautiful to us, and we didn’t have any worries

about a mother somewhere changing her mind.

We were surrounded by the press. But I got the biggest kick

when, in front of the nursery window, a woman who had heard the

news turned to me and said, “There’s the Fleck baby.’’ “I know,” I

said proudly, “I’m his mother.” Jocelyn viewed her new brother on

TV. “Mommy, Daddy, Baby,” she exclaimed. She had said a

mouthful.

The Flecks: Lisa with Daniel, Vinny with Jocelyn

"There are few

earthly thingsmore splendid than

a university"JohnMasefield

Vassar’s splendor does not continue unnurtured.

The presence of talented students, an excellent

faculty and a rich learning environment requires

dedication, hard work and financial stability.

Your unrestricted gift will ensure the splendidpursuit of excellence that distinguishes a Vassar

education.

AAVC ANNUAL FUND/ Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York 12601/(914) 452-7000