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Photo from the Hewlett Diversity Archive
From Personal Experience:
Evans Jacobs Jr. ’73 is senior corporation counsel for the City of Hartford, Connecticut, and
a Watson Fellow. He is the immediate past chair of the Wesleyan Black Alumni
Council, an organization he has been involved in since its inception in
1983.
• • •
As a black man I feel special because I attended
a school that wanted me. When it comes to race relations, there is still
enough tundra in America to support the conclusion that most non-black
institutions do not sincerely commit to and deliberately attract black
people. Wesleyan, over the years, has not only sought to matriculate people
like myself, but also to make certain that it established a comfort level. Wesleyan has been carrying on a significant racial
dialogue within its own community for at least thirty-four years. It has
graduated more than 1,250 black students. The University’s tradition of
intelligent self-debate, along with its ability to create innovative solutions,
mandates that it be out front in any national dialogue on race. For many,
there is a consensus that the racial question sits squarely in our national
path, potentially every bit as lethal as the iceberg that awaited the Titanic.
In 1964, Dean of Admissions Jack Hoy began
the work of admitting what would be Wesleyan’s largest single group, until
that time, of black students. The matriculation of the Vanguard Class had
about as much finesse as a shotgun wedding. The University didn’t know
quite what to expect of these young men, and they themselves resented the
possibility that they were enrolled so as to improve the education of white
students.
The University never wavered in its commitment
to establish a social and educational comfort level for these early black
students. The problem at the time was achieving adequate communication
to understand what that level might be, and figuring out a way to get there
while maintaining the usual high academic standards. Thus began a somewhat
awkward dialogue that occurred over time by means of meetings, correspondence,
and social interactions. It went something like this: The
question raised by both whites and blacks: “Who are you people and what do you want from us?” The students:
“You have taken us from our communities and forced us to join yours, and
we don’t understand you and you don’t understand us. But the food is good.”
The school: We
are a successful institution with a long-standing mission of educating
young men, and you are expected to become a part of that tradition.”
The students: "Your
idea of education is not relevant to who we perceive ourselves to be, and
it does not prepare us for the world we expect to confront. It needs to
be changed to meet our own needs. And we want separate rooms.” The school:
Academic
excellence is a creature of Western Civilization, which should not be tampered
with. Many students before you have learned through the Wesleyan experience
and you, too, will see the value of a Wesleyan education if you exercise
discipline and focus on the work.”
The students:
“This isn’t working. We’re going visiting at the sister schools. Also,
we will be taking over a building.” Matters came to a head on the morning of
February 21, 1969, when a number of black students commandeered Fisk Hall
to protest Wesleyan’s refusal to cancel classes in commemoration of Malcolm
X Day. Even though the faculty had voted 60 to 47 not to cancel classes,
President Ted Etherington was gracious in correspondence, stating that:
“...[T]he Faculty clearly recognized the importance of appropriate acknowledgment
of the deep-felt sentiments of black members of the University and the
importance of promoting mutual understanding and good will.” He was impressed
with the quality of the students’ demands, and he negotiated earnestly
and fairly to reach an amicable resolution to the takeover of the building.
One result of this negotiation was the decision
to establish, on April 9, 1969, the African American Institute, a cultural
and educational center with a dormitory component that would benefit all
students, but especially the black students.
Five years later, Wesleyan reassessed the
programs of the AAI as part of a University-wide review. Black students
viewed this as a potential threat. President Colin Campbell, in a February
22, 1974, memorandum to the Ujamaa Central Committee, continued the dialogue
and reassured the students: “In a time of economic stress, it is fully
understandable that there is considerable anxiety concerning Wesleyan’s
commitment to a black presence on this campus and to a structure as the
focus for that presence. I am confident that current efforts to modify
and strengthen that structure will over time be seen as a forceful reaffirmation
of that commitment.”
Wesleyan’s historical engagement with diversity
has been truly rich. Each generation of alumni, at least since 1965, can
surely recall some galvanizing issue or event, some of which were quite
traumatic, that added to the collective dialogue and ultimately increased
understanding and awareness among the various elements of the community.
As we approach the millennium, Wesleyan must capitalize on the knowledge
gained from this history and become a leader in a process which exports
its best capabilities to effect positive change.
It should be a collective effort. Already
racial minorities shoulder a disproportional amount of the burden of improving
intergroup relations. My white friend Bob Purvis ’72 said it best: “My
own view is that there needs to be a shift in emphasis away from the traumatic
effects of minority victimization to the equality to which most whites??whether
on the left or right ideologically??profess commitment. Recasting the issues
in this way recognizes non-minority whites as co-equal stakeholders in
genuine racial reconciliation and increases expectations of their leadership
and greater participation in the effort. Along with these heightened expectations
would come, I hope, a decrease in defensiveness as well as a greater willingness
on the part of whites to better understand and appreciate the experiences
of African-Americans and other minorities of being vilified and targeted
for mistreatment because of their group status.”
When I visit campus from time to time, I
am encouraged by the way staff and students seem to be a lot more comfortable
in a racial sense. That is to say, people refer very casually to racial
distinctions and are genuinely interested in different cultures. At its
25th Reunion, the Class of ’72 hosted a panel on racism. The lecture room
at the Center for African-American Studies (formerly the Institute) was
filled with white alumni—something that would not have happened in years
past. In February of ’98, I was intrigued to watch black and white students
playing the game of Black History Jeopardy at the Malcolm X dormitory.
Wesleyan has become a rare oasis in the sea of race relations.
President Douglas Bennet not only stands
behind Wesleyan’s commitment, but also seeks to broaden it. He is supportive
of the Alumni of Color Network and I believe that under his tenure diversity
will be a more organic part of the University’s fabric rather than a flashy
ornament. The University has come a long way down this path of diversity,
as the number and quality of alumni of color will attest. Nevertheless,
it is as important today, as it was in 1964, that the University remain
challenged regarding issues of diversity. President Bennet is cognizant
of Wesleyan’s unique engagement with diversity and is interested in making
the University “a leader among institutions of higher learning based not
just on our track record but on our contribution to the national dialogue
on diversity.” He can use all of our help on this.
• • •
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Two
Nations at Wesleyan
In January of 1970, The New York Times published
a long article called "Two Nations at Wesleyan" in its Sunday magazine.
The author, Richard J. Margolis, described the University as a community
dramatically torn asunder, where racial hostilities were rampant and blacks
and whites did not speak to one another. Three students, two black and
one white, wrote a letter to the editor protesting the picture that was
presented of unmitigated racial polarization, and branding the article a superficial
and dishonest."
For Bob Kirkpatrick, then dean of admissions,
"Two Nations at Wesleyan" had broad-reaching implications. "The writer
described the surface conflict, but missed completely the profound changes
that were underway. This was terribly important and may have persuaded
other institutions not to follow our path. Iâm sure it slowed down
a number of institutions willing to make a commitment to blacks in those
early days. The implications were bad for Wesleyan and bad for the country."
From Campbell: "The article was not only
inaccurate and unfair to Wesleyan, it had enough influence to put other
people off. That was particularly bad because, in the '70s, people at other
institutions were starting to back away from black recruitment and courses
like black studies. This gave them an excuse to say, "Look at what happened
at Wesleyan," and to slow down.
"Its effect was probably worse beyond Wesleyan,
because at Wesleyan we didn't change our behavior at all."
Although most of the Vanguard group had
graduated, several remained in town or on campus and maintained affiliations
with the University. In the summer of '69, Dwight Greene and Randy Miller,
working with Beckham and consultant Barry Passett '56, helped create a
new three-week pre-orientation program for black freshmen called "Me, My
Goals, and Wesleyan." In the summer of '70, black graduates inaugurated
a more extensive summer program, "Prospect Wesleyan," to bring incoming
black and Hispanic freshmen to the campus for six weeks of academic and
cultural preparation. Louis Mink taught in this program. "The organizers
didn't really care what he chose to discuss," said Kirkpatrick; "they believed
that exposure to Louis Mink was important intellectually, no matter what
he taught."
On February 7, 1970, Ted Etherington announced
that he was leaving the University, his resignation to take place immediately.
He had agreed--on the advice of friends from both within and beyond the
University community--to become a Republican candidate for the U.S. Senate.
Robert Rosenbaum, then vice president for
academic affairs and provost, was named acting president and hastily summoned
back from a sabbatical leave in New Guinea. Richard Ohmann had become acting
chancellor; Willie Kerr was acting provost. Together with Campbell, they
were all in place for the event that closed this tumultuous academic year:
the anti-war strike, triggered by the bombing of Cambodia and the shootings
of students at Kent State University in Ohio and at Jackson State University,
a largely black institution in Mississippi. The strike began on the Wesleyan
campus on May 2.
The
strike was a very different affair from actions like the takeover and the
racially charged events of mere months before. The occupation of Fisk Hall
had been a focused action by a small, indignant segment of the community.
The strike, on the other hand, reflected national and international concerns,
and while indignation over civil rights was a factor, strikers were concerned
not with Wesleyan's policies but with national policies. The strike was
called by the students, the campus in general endorsed it, and the faculty
provided various ways for undergraduates to complete their academic work.
Individuals felt free to hold or attend classes or not, and everywhere
on campus people wore the white arm bands of support. As Willie Kerr remembered:
"It was actually a rather exuberant period, a time to please yourself in
a spirit of liberation."
"You could be angry with the National Guard
of Ohio or with President Nixon, but you really would have a hard time
blaming it on Mr. Rosenbaum." Colin Campbell was appointed Wesleyan's thirteenth
president and inaugurated in October. He was 34 years old.
Wesleyan was fortunate in the presidents
who oversaw its transformation. Victor Butterfield, a man of great integrity,
had profound faith in his faculty and a large and expansive vision of how
the University could and should grow socially and academically. Robert
Rosenbaum considers Butterfield one of the heroes of the push toward diversity.
"He had a host of issues to cope with, including a conservative board,
but, in his low-key way, he managed to move the University forward in a
remarkable way."
Edwin Etherington briskly introduced sweeping
and important changes, though he risked the anger of traditionalist alumni.
He had been instrumental in bringing women and minority members into the
New York and American stock exchanges, and so meshed with the mood of the
University in the late '60s. At Wesleyan he supervised and directed the
move to co-education; he urged the recruitment of non-alumni, women, and
of African Americans to the Board of Trustees. The first black members
of the Board were Alyce Chenault Gullattee (1969-75), now associate professor
of psychiatry at Howard University College of Medicine; and Alvin Poussaint
(1969-70), clinical professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School.
They were succeeded by attorney David D. Jones '41 ('71-'76) and later
by Yale psychiatrist James Comer HON''91, who continued to advise the administration
long after his term as trustee was over.
In his dealings with the Board of Trustees,
Etherington was a strong defender, and sometimes a lonely one, of the University's
positions on blacks and other minorities. "I know he stood alone at times,"
Rosenbaum said,"and at least once I saw him, with only the force of his
personality and presidential authority, persuade the Board to abandon a
path that he knew to be morally wrong."
Etherington also encouraged a reorganization
of Alumni Association voting practices, assuring the representation of
younger graduates on the Board.
Although Etherington was made a target of
some of the most egregious student activism while he was president, Kerr
remembered him as "immensely agile and sensitive and responsive" in a crisis.
"I think of him in those days as a dancer. Dancing among the land mines."
Colin Campbell grew up in New Canaan, Conn.
"You may think of it as a lily-white town," he said, "but one of the people
I was closest to was a black trumpeter in a jazz band I played in, called
The Lavender Blues. He was a good friend." Both of Campbell's parents were
deeply committed to public service; his mother, an advocate for mentally
retarded children and a volunteer with numerous political and charitable
organizations, marched in a Memorial Day parade with the local NAACP chapter.
"I was rooted in this issue; I knew where I stood," Campbell said.
At Wesleyan, he says, he was "blessed" with
the concerned and committed leadership of Philip B. Brown '44, who served
as chair of the Board of Trustees throughout the '70s, and who consistently
supported the University's determination to sustain and strengthen its
minority admissions, faculty recruitment, and academic program development.
When Campbell was executive vice president,
according to Beckham, black students recognized him as an ally. "Colin
was always open; he learned from Maguire and Swift. He didn't move into
a lead role immediately, but interrogated the community and listened, then
based his actions on what he learned."
"Even in the worst times, he got the signals
that the kids were sending: 'This is going to work out OK for Wesleyan,
but it has got to be done.' "He used strategic political thinking, and
took action only after careful, thoughtful reflection. And it was clear
to black students and faculty that he was committed--but he left them free
to craft the structure of their own associations."
Campbell, who served as president of Wesleyan
for eighteen years, emphasizes that he had invaluable help from the black
community. "I had wonderful colleagues like Jerome Long, Bob O'Meally,
Faye Boulware, and, of course, Edgar Beckham. They were totally open and
candid with me; they always alerted me to what they thought was going wrong
and ways to address the issue in a timely fashion. Above all, they always
assumed goodwill."
According to Robert Kirkpatrick, by the
end of the Etherington presidency, the institution was fundamentally altered--"not
only in the structure, the way it was governed, but in its own expectations
of itself and of the students that were going to improve it. The Study
of Educational Policy and Programs incorporated some very radical changes.
Also, there were tremendous differences in the society itself, the students
were receptive to activism. There was a new energy in place."
"Wesleyan was deeply committed to diversity.
The concept was never fundamentally challenged once it was started, and
it became part of the University's mission. There was an assumption we
were on a path to stay. That path turned into a long road, but there was
no turning back." |
