An Act Surprising: Friday Night

 

Time had no meaning for me while we were in the building. I have never worn a watch. No clock, that I remember, hung in our main room. We entered after dark, everything that happened, happened after dark. Perhaps time flowed very slowly that night, thickened by the cold weather. So, I don't know it was 9:30 or midnight when we received the call that the University Faculty Senate Executive Committee (SenEx) was in session and wished to speak to a negotiation team. I assume the letter or the phone calls had given the names and/or number to call. Some accounts said that SenEx met alone then called the sisters and others that SenEx met first with the sisters.

At East Asian we held a meeting, of course, to pick our half of the negotiators. The other half would come from among the sisters at the Coalition Office. The idea was that SenEx would not know who was in the building and who was not. We chose two. I believe both were students.

I remember nothing of the process of choosing or any special concerns that were express. I suspect that we had so little experience about the process that we did not know what would ultimately matter. What points would be important to SenEx? How much authority should the team be given? Would any authority at all be acknowledged by the administration? We could not even guess the kinds of pressures to which the negotiators would be subject.

Paranoia that one of us was a spy had largely vanished. We already understood that we were collectively the February Sisters. We were also beginning to feel like sister as well. It was like a mutual identity, like a second soul inside living with the old soul.

So the negotiators were chosen. I am sorry they are nameless for now; they deserve to be named and praised. I remember a face, but no name. They climbed the stairs to the little window on the fourth flour and out into the cold night, down the clanking fire escape. Did they walk alone down the block to Coalition Office or did sisters wait outside to escort them? With the two women selected at coalition, the team went to Strong Hall (the administration building). The paper reported an overnight low of minus 1 degree F that night.

We waited. Life in the building went back to normal; reporters on the fire escape, children fussing, food and conversation. Woman's life in microcosm. The woman who was always on the phone was still on the phone. The children finally fell asleep but I don't remember any sisters sleeping. How could we? There was too much excitement in the air and too many new things going on around us.

Eventually the team returned. We had advance word of t heir arrival from the phone sister. The two building members brought someone back with them, Elizabeth Banks, the professor cited in the Affirmative Action announcement as the possible director of that office. She too climbed the fire escape to the very pinnacle and come down to the main meeting room. Mary remembers the big smile on her face. She said everyone was behind us; everyone was so pleased that we were there.

For this meeting we sat, not in rows facing a leader, but in concentric circles, small bunches of chairs together here and there, people sitting on the floor, still all in the main room. We were a group now, cohesive and focused. We listened with all our attention.

Ms Banks talked to us. She said that first she wanted to talk about the Affirmative Action announcement. She had been surprised by the mention of her name for director but she was not planning on accepting the position. Then she gave us a pep talk, told us to the number of faculty and even administration that supported us, our demands and our action. She was also there to encourage us to deal with SenEx in good faith, but to stand firm nevertheless. They were trustworthy in their own way and were sincerely dedicated to getting us out by dawn. This turned out to be a most important piece of information.

In the newspaper Professor Banks was billed as a representative of the university. But she didn't seem like one. She was friendly and truthful. She brought with her a healthy skepticism. She was what a representative ought to be, not one the university would actually have sent.

She left before the heavy discussion began. She did not want to influence us on these matters. Up and out and down and gone. Out of the warmth and into the cold.

We were glad she had come even though it broke security. It was encouraging. We began in earnest to discuss what was being offered and what we could realistically do.

The team told of more run around: can't do anything in the middle of the night. We had no idea, more of that. We were livid. Not a single demand was satisfied. The team had no trust of SenEx's motives or motivation. They wanted us out before daylight. That was the only thing the professors had made clear. But the team wasn't satisfied and had asked to return to us and discuss matters before making any decisions. I assume a similar discussion was going on in the Coalition Office.

The sisters in the house and the sisters outside the house were not all radical feminists, not all convinced that the system was too rotten to even bother. For some of us, SenEx would be the plateau we someday withed to reach. The university was not the enemy to all of us; it was the goal of some.

Still, our main concern was that they were not giving assurance that anything would actually be done. There was still a pat-them-on-the-head-and-smile attitude about working with women. There was also a lot of cover-your-ass working as well. There are more important issues, after all. We haven't had time to get around to you yet. Because of the bureaucracy that is the university, it was too easy to believe.

Each of us expressed our concerns about the issues, about SenEx, about getting the brush off again. We discussed ways to make them understand how serious the situation was. Never did any sister suggest violence, destruction of property, or threat of these acts. Neither did anyone suggest that we give up and go home. We were responsible people; we wanted to conduct ourselves so that we would be seen as strong both in number and in character. The question was how we could help the boys realize we meant business.

It was my insistence that the team remind SenEx firmly that we were not just students but staff and faculty as well. Neither of these had more power or influence than the students, of course, but the image of such unity would be powerful nor frightening even if it wasn't particularly threatening. They would be around for a long time. (I'll be it still is). It was this insistence that got me onto the second negotiating team. We thought this might convince the administration that we could not be dismissed as students who would, after all, be gone in 3 or 4 years. The second negotiating team then was five instead of four.

The three of us wrapped up as warm as we could and climbed out onto the fire escape. The cold wind bit into us as we stumbled down, clanking with every step. The reporters had been frozen off the windy staircase by now. We walked down the street to the back of the United Ministries building into the Coalition Office. It was lighted and warm and full of the most beautiful women. We gather our other member and trudged to Strong Hall. We walked alone talking about what we should and could do. I don't remember any reporters dogging us as we went.

I don't remember which door we entered to Strong or which staircase took us to the second story. I do remember the chancellarium filled with light and people, a crowd in fact.1[1] The Dean of Women, Emily Taylor was there with Marilyn Stokstad of Group W of AAUP (American Association of University Professors). Robert Burton, director of the Eastern Civilizations Program whom I had once met at a friend's house. There was the official university attorney, Charles Oldfather, whose children were friends of mine. It seemed like there were several more people than this, but I don't know who they were or why they had been called into service in the middl3e of the night. No introductions were offered. We were ushered into the conference room where SenEx was meeting.

It is said that the Kiowa people begin each prayer by holding up to the One Who Calls all the prayers that all Kiowans have uttered in the past. This second negotiations meeting was such an invocation for me. All the meetings that had come before were held up again; meetings from years ago and fro the inception. All the women who had asked for justice from the time the university was founded were with us. All the requests, the hurts and rejections small and large were there. These constituted our hidden agenda. I think we were all very away of this at the time.

I was probably one who felt like we were going to face the enemy, but I was aware that this was not the stance of the sisters. Sitting through that session was a defining moment in my life. It was both enlightening and disheartening. The pinnacle of power of a major university was a bunch of boys with their own personal and collective agendas, their needy egos and their insecurities. Their humanness showed. To this day when I think of that meeting I ask: Is that all there is?

In their defense, they had been up all night, in meetings all night. Their Friday night plans had been spoiled. They were tired, perhaps hungry. But then, we had been up all night too. We were tired but hardly foggy.

They were already in session, waiting, so to speak. It was a paneled room with a large conference table running endwise from the entry door. The images are dark; I don't know if this is from the lighting in the room or from the flavor of the meeting. It struck me odd that neither the chancellor nor Max Lucas, president of Faculty Senate and chair of SenEx was seated at the head of the table directly across from the door. I sat just to the right of the door a couple of unremembered people away from Prof. Lucas. Chancellor Chalmers sat a little more than halfway down the other side. The sisters were groups together at the end near the door. The members, all male, introduced themselves and we introduced ourselves using only our first names. There was some muttering about his but it was explained that they had certain power over our lives and we didn't want to help them exercise it unwisely.

We were then given a speech about how upset absolutely everyone was by our action. Group W, which had just conducted some research on scholarships, was upset with our demand for equality. Dean Taylor was despairing. Director Burton was frantic with worry. Pretty much the exact opposite of the things Elizabeth Banks told us.

After the snorts and retorts died down, the sister explained that we were unconvinced about their sincerity. This drew even more snorts. When I gave my spiel about how we weren't just students, we were staff members and faculty wives as well, a most amazing thing happened. Almost every man around that table paused for a couple of seconds. You could see them mentally asking themselves if they knew where their wives were. It was palpable, that twist of insecurity, of mistrust. Unfortunately, I think it also put them on the defensive

We told them we needed assurances; we need to see something credible and solid. I remember a sister quoting Chalmers back to himself; he had said that the university needed more clout in order to get some funding or other. The sister explained that we were just trying to get some clout in order to get our needs met.

But somehow we bogged down. I remember a round of you said that they said that she said that reminded me of a bunch of junior high school girls at a slumber party. It seemed to me forever before we actually got around to negotiating anything. It became apparent that getting us out before sunup was something that SenEx felt so strongly about that it could be used as leverage. There was a point in the proceedings when I asked could we get back to the subject at h and. Prof. Lucas perked up and took better control of the meeting then. At that moment I was in absolute despair; I could not see that this gang of airheads would ever be able to accomplish anything.

To this day I believe the primary motive for keeping women out of boardrooms and halls of power is to keep from exposing the fact that the men are just children playing at running a world. What did I expect? Perhaps I expected a group of people able and willing to lay down all personal egos and devote all t heir attention to solving the problems at hand. It's what I want from a doctor performing surgery. It's what I would expect from a scientist trying to get the astronauts home. It's what I thought the political elite of a university would be like.

In fact the overwhelming disappointment of the inner workings of the seats of power is so strong that I do not remember the actual terms that we reached. My despair filled too much of my mind. If there is no reasoning with power, how do we make changes peacefully? The victory that I felt was the knowledge that I had faced power and it wasn't powerful at all. It was scrawny and vulnerable. It was subject to inner forces greater than its individual or collective intellect. To this day, I believe that the only real power is personal character and strength. I have not sought any other kind of power in my life since. I have little respect for people who have power and no respect for people who have sought it.

Apparently, there were things that could be done very, very early on a Saturday morning. Letters could be written, things could be placed on agendas, requests could be made, and funding could be moved. As dawn approached, the amount that could be accomplished swelled. Still, they ushered us out, back to the chancellarium while the deliberated.

I went up to Professor Burton and assured him that there was no property destroyed or stolen, no messes made. He said he was pretty sure that was the case. He didn't seem so worried to me. He looked to me like someone who could have slept the night away at home without a second thought. Th4en I went to Marilyn Stokstad who was standing with Dean Em. I apologized about the scholarship demand and said we had not meant to disrupt anything that Group W was working on. She said, in fact, she and Group W were glad we had included that demand and that she was not the least bit upset about any of this.

So they had been lies. What a surprise! Did they think we wouldn't ask?

Other team members were on the phone with Coalition and the building, telling them that it was about to be settled. They outlined what had been promised and started a chain reaction.

The clock ticked. Dawn's rosy fingers were grasping at the eastern horizon.

It did not take SenEx very long to accept whatever it was they had promised. They must have been able to focus for that short period. They call us back into the conference room and formally offered and we formally accepted the compromises reached. I don't remember whether any of it was written down.

We left Strong Hall. I have vague memories of walking back across campus, laughing and light. We had faced power and we had survived. We had stare down power and gotten concessions. We felt good, daughter of St. Martha who had tamed the dragon, heroines who had unraveled our way back from the maze of the Minotaur.

The coalition office was nearly empty. We were quickly ushered out the back down and down the street to the building.

 

 

2[1] In 1964 a hundred plus students (including Gayle Sayers) were arrested in the chancellor's Office for refusing to leave at closing. The students were demanding an audience with Chancellor Wescoe about discrimination in several areas (placement of student teachers, exclusion from Fraternities and Sororities, etc.) A week long demonstration ensued. After that the administration sealed off both ends of the hallway outside the office with glass walls and doors. It gave rise to many jokes about glass houses and hot house bureaucrats and the word chancellarium.

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