Blacks at Wellesley Discover Indifference Swallows Its Own Children

LAST SPRING, as Columbia University was exploding across the front pages of the nation's newspapers, students at Wellesley College were quietiy instituting their own small revolution.

This revolution did not make headlines because no students were occupying buildings, none were smoking the president's cigars, and because less than two per cent of the college was involved in the revolt, that two per cent included Wellesley's only black students.

The black students' disillusionment with Wellesley had been building up over a period of years. Most of them, coming from middle class neighborhoods and integrated schools, were well accustomed to life in a predominantly white institution. They anticipated no problems in making the adjustment to life at Wellesley. They were somewhat surprised, then, to find that the college's black freshmen were not roomed with white students because black students, the administration assumed, would be happier with girls from a "similar background."

Due to pressure from black students, that rooming procedure was abandoned two years ago. Yet there were other incidents that clearly set the black students apart. Nancy Gist '69 said she "didn't expect to be accepted with open arms," but continuous questions from white students who wanted to understand "the secret workings of a black chick's mind" gave her the impression that she was at Wellesley not so much to study as to be observed by "middle class deb-types who had never seen an intellectually equal black."

As a result, the college's black students were not in a conciliatory mood when they confronted Wellesley's administration last spring. The confrontation arose over acceptances for the incoming freshman class that had just been sent out. Included among the 500 girls accepted were 19 blacks. But of the 19, only seven chose to come to Wellesley.

The black students at the college had little difficulty understanding why Wellesley might not appeal to blacks, but they were not willing to watch the black community on campus remain a small and isolated off-shoot of a major women's college.

ACCORDINGLY, Ethos, the black students' organization, sent to Ruth M. Adams, president of Wellesley, a list of proposals designed to make the college more attractive to blacks. Included in the list were suggestions that the college employ black administrators and professors, that it introduce into the curriculum Afro-American history as a major field of study, and that 20 additional black students be recruited over the summer to fill the incoming class.

Miss Adams responded to the suggestions in vague and general terms that gave little indication of when and if the proposals would be accepted. Ethos re-presented the proposals to the president with the stipulation that "if a satisfactory response is not received at this time, Ethos will (before members of all press agencies) begin a hunger strike to continue until a satisfactory answer is received." The following day the administration accepted all of the recommendations.

Wellesley began the current academic year with a major in Afro-American studies and a young black woman who served both as a head of a house and a Black Recruiter. But the effort to recruit 20 black students for the incoming class had failed abysmally; over the summer only one additional student had been found.

On October 7 of this year several of Wellesley's deans called an All-College Meeting to explain the result of the summer recruiting program. Their discussion centered on the difficulty of finding "qualified" applicants in the "culturally-deprived" communities in which blacks grow up. Before the report was finished, the black students at the meeting walked out.

The blacks who had been so militant the previous spring did nothing, though, to follow up this dramatic gesture. No additional demands were made of the administration; no public apologies were requested. The sole expression of outrage at the statements that the deans made came in a series of letters sent by Ethos members to the Wellesley News.

The restrained response of black students this fall can be explained partly by the fact that most of the more militant blacks had tired of confronting the administration. Those who had threatened a hunger strike the previous spring were now seniors. They had been pressing Wellesley for change for three years, and they were not eager to invest time and energy in an institution in which they were to spend only one more year.

A more significant factor affecting Ethos' decision not to act was the response it anticipated from the rest of the campus. "The majority of kids would be turned off by harping on the October 7 meeting," explained Karen Williamson '69, past president of Ethos. "From experience we know we can't get a concerted effort with white students. We met resistance last year; even the upperclassmen don't want to change what Wellesley means. I have a feeling that the mass of Wellesley students would be against me."

Miss Wiliamson's remarks were corroborated by a white student who, expressing her own indignation, commented, "The hunger strike threat [of the previous spring] got people mad."

But if black students were willing to let the October 7 meeting pass without incident, H. Paul Santmire, chaplain to the college, was not. Immediately following the meeting he gathered in his office a group of 35 white students to discuss the meeting. No black students were invited because Santmire believed that "the black students were evidently discouraged. It was my feeling that it was a time for white people to take a reading."

The chaplain called to his office girls who represented some of the more important campus organizations and other students who were known to be dissatisfied with life and education at Wellesley. That gathering signified the first time that the isolated voices of dissent on the campus were brought together. Out of the meeting came a list of proposals for reform of the college and an organization, the Committee on Wellesley Indifference (COWI), to work for the acceptance of the reform.

The proposals discussed many areas of concern to the students. They called for alterations of admissions policy to accommodate the acceptance of unconventionally-qualified students and to allow for greater recruitment of black students. In addition, COWI requested that the administration introduce pass-fail courses and more extensive leaves of absence. The group also suggested that faculty salaries at Wellesley be raised to improve the quality of faculty attracted to the college and to enable the school to compete for the scarce supply of black professors and administrators.

COWI's reforms did not ignore the issue of student power: the group asserted that students should be seated on the Board of Admissions and on Academic Council, Wellesley's faculty decision-making body. The girls concluded by demanding that the administration cease perpetuating a "tree day" image of Wellesley in the college publications.

Behind the proposals lay a concept of the college that would be very different from Wellesley as it presently exists. Most COWI members see the college as a collection of girls from middle class suburban homes who find neither in their education nor their living conditions at Wellesley anything that questions or contradicts the mode of life to which they are accustomed. Such an experience, according to the girls in COWI, has no educational value. As Nancy Scheibner '69, a leading member of COWI, explained at an All-College Meeting, "Wellesley must find her identity as an educational center in which the norm is no longer that of conforming to...a middle class cultural milieu but in which each individual is seeking to maximize her own creative potential and in which each individual sees herself as making a unique contribution...to the diversity of her college...Unless the college provides contact for diverse individuals, it is failing to equip any student with the understanding and flexible mind required for relevant survival in the present world."

TWO points of significance emerged from the COWI proposals and Miss Scheibner's explanation of them. COWI was concerned with issues that affected white as well as black students, and the critique of the college was directed as much at the students as at the administration.

Because the proposals affected all students and not just blacks, COWI was able to succeed where Ethos had failed. Students began to express interest in the proposals. In compulsory dormitory meetings, girls had a chance to give their opinions on the reform, and they came out strongly in favor of all the proposals--except those encouraging the hiring of black administrators. There was still resistance to the goals that Ethos had set for the college the previous spring.

Nevertheless, it seems strange that most Wellesley students were willing to support the COWI proposals. For when Nancy Schneibner speaks of admitting a diversified group of students to Wellesley, she is saying that most of the girls who are currently enrolled in the college should not be there.

The students' acceptance of the proposals, then, indicates that there is a gap between the rhetoric used by COWI members and the reform measures these members introduced. Students who support proposals to increase faculty salaries, to permit leaves of absence, and to change the school's "tree day" image do not necessarily believe that the character and student body of Wellesley College should be drastically altered. Even putting students on Academic Council or on the Admissions Committee gives little guarantee that the college will become more diversified or accommodating to change. In short, student support for the COWI proposals would not have to reflect approval of the rhetoric behind those proposals.

Much more a measure of the students' desire for change at Wellesley is the reaction to the Ethos proposals of the previous spring: demands for many more black students, black faculty and administrators, and black courses. To imagine a college that is ten per cent black, rounded out by black heads of house, black administrators, and black professors teaching courses in black history--to imagine this is to view a school that is quite different from the Wellesley of today One student's remarks typified much of the student reaction to such a change, "I'm satisfied with what I've gotten out of Wellesley. I don't feel that black students have any legitimate grievances." Her remarks reflect not so much prejudice as just a basic resistance to change.

BUT IT IS this very willingness to accept change that COWI members seek to instill into the students and administration at Wellesley. The reform-minded students want to demonstrate that unconventional courses and girls who are not from a "middle class social milieu" are not inferior just because they are different.

The reaction of Ethos' members to the COWI proposals can best be described as sympathetic disinterest. "Ethos," explained Karen Williamson, "is still trying to get the proposals of last spring accepted. They are sort of vaguely included in the COWI proposals. These proposals are an attempt to involve the rest of the student body, so they are watered down.... They are too weak to get our support...and are not even controversial any more. People feel that commentary on the proposals is enough. My feeling is that that's fine and dandy. Now back to business."

Francille A. Rusan '69, another Ethos member, commented, "I don't resent their (COWI) ignoring Ethos.... I just don't have time to become involved with proposals from white students.... Given the structure of the current proposals, it is not necessarily true that Ethos' goals will be satisfied as a natural follower. The proposals are generally so vague that the administration could agree to them and actually do little."

The changes that Ethos seeks in Wellesley are so specific that they can be expressed in quantitative terms. "The thing that is important to me," Nancy Gist said, "is giving more black students a chance at higher education so they can affect change where its needed--in the big bad world."

That does not require altering the attitudes or composition of Wellesley's student body. "I see it as enough that the administration will act without the students," concluded Karen Williamson.

Both Ethos and COWI are willing to work independently of each other for apparently different reforms. Their goals, however, are inter-related. If COWI does succeed in changing the type of student that attends Wellesley, Ethos will find its task easier. Black students will not feel alienated from a student body that prides itself on its diversity; and black courses and perspectives will naturally appear in course listings that are, as COWI wishes, continually being questioned and revised.

On the other hand, the leaders of COWI cannot assert that they have altered Wellesley if change, in its most obvious form, is persistently resisted. Black students' demands to see themselves integrated into all aspects of life at Wellesley must be a part of any resolution calling for significant change on the campus.

Ultimately, any revisions in Wellesley's educational system will come, as the students in Ethos readily admit, from the administration. Students in both COWI and Ethos question the administration's commitment to reformation of the college. Initiative for change has always come from students and has usually succeeded only under student pressure. Ethos' adoption of a wait-and-see attitude after the October 7 meeting marked the end of militancy on the campus, at least for the foreseeable future. The only pressure compelling the administration to act is the interest in the COWI proposals which have developed among students.

When listening or talking to administrators at Wellesley, one immediately senses that at their level there is no feeling of urgency. The college's deans and president are continuously driving home the theme that all changes take time. It is a refrain that blacks have heard before.

But the administration is willing to make some concessions to the demands that black students presented last spring. Joan B. Melvin, dean of students, explained that since a director of special programs is needed, that might be a good place to add a black administrator. Yet such an action is designed only to alleviate immediate grievances; it is not part of a clearly defined pattern of change. As Mrs. Melvin explains, "We don't have a method or answers about what we think a Wellesley education should be, but we are working on it."

It is unfortunate that a group of women whose life work is the organization and direction of education have much less an idea of what an education should offer than do many of their students. But while COWI's leaders have a clear concept of what they seek in an education, their proposals fall short of converting that concept into reality. The girls who should feel most threatened by the organization's rhetoric have little difficulty supporting its proposals; and this means that the proposals are not totally to the point.

UNLIKE COWI, the administration does not have to convince Wellesley girls that the college needs fewer students like themselves. Administrators can simply change the admissions policy to create a more diverse student body. The faculty and the administration do not have to wait for COWI to build up student pressure before any action is undertaken.

For if the administration is short on new ideas, it should be able to use its experience to implement the ideas of its more forward looking students. What sort of changes come to Wellesley should not, as Miss Adams likes to say, depend entirely on the students.

To undertake the type of changes that COWI and Ethos seek would expose the administration to criticism from many of its students and alumnae. Only a firm commitment to change would permit Miss Adams and her subordinates to disregard the criticism. The past history of this Wellesley administration gives little reason to expect that such a commitment will be forthcoming