embraced the cornucopia of white cultural options available to them and some felt awkward and out of place in navigating those options.
In the ’60s, the discussion about blackness went far beyond skin color. As we began to define ourselves as black rather than Negro or colored, heated debates often ensued on what defined our blackness. Those who were comfortable with the status quo were categorized as “Uncle Toms.” At the other end of the spectrum were those who embraced the struggle and chose to actively participate in dismantling racial oppression. The majority of blacks fell somewhere in the middle, believing that any changes should be slow and orderly. Blacks at Swarthmore paralleled this continuum of the larger society, and we engaged in discussions on who was black enough.
One of the most frequent topics of debate was about the “black table” in Sharples Dining Hall. We used to say that if more than two blacks gathered together in discussion it would attract attention and conspiracy rumors would abound. You can imagine the level of discomfort that we caused when groups of black students started eating together at the long tables in Sharples. There was no conspiracy to plot an uprising, just a desire for community. With so much change going on within us and around us, we had much to discuss. Discussions about the black evolution (or revolution) took place throughout the campus and even included non-black students, but it was always easier and more productive to have these discussions with people who, although diverse, shared the common experience of growing up black in America.
As we settled into college life, the lack of black upperclassmen confirmed that we were pioneers. Although the College was one of the best endowed in the country, it shocked us to discover that it took an external grant to bring about an improvement in black admissions. The College had not lived up to its espoused core values in the matter of racial integration. SASS was not founded specifically to address the College’s shortcomings, but when black students came together in this organization, it was inevitable that the persistent inconsistencies in the College’s policies would be brought to light.
Some in our group had chosen Swarthmore explicitly because of its Quaker affiliation. Others were attracted to the overall image of the College as a place that was not just an education factory. When we arrived on campus in the late sixties, white students were already actively engaged in protesting the Vietnam War on and off campus. Several in our group supported the anti-war movement and even participated in protests. Over its history, Swarthmore had developed a reputation as an activist college. Activism was not restricted to students, as some professors were also activists in the anti-war movement.
In contrast to its Quaker values, the College aligned with the American mainstream in supporting a de facto caste system. One of the first grievances that the Seven Sisters addressed with the administration was the treatment of the College’s black service workers which helped us develop a special relationship with them. We cannot speak for all black students who were at Swarthmore during those years, but our small group had a closer relationship with the black service workers than with the white faculty. They could not advise us academically, but they did listen and give us emotional support. One of the first SASS confrontations with the College was the publication of a list of demands and a press release titled Why We Can’t Wait. In this document, we exposed the College’s history of segregation and its liberal hypocrisy.
…because its students tutor Chester Kids, lily white Swarthmore automatically assumes it’s [involved in] the racial scene and doing the best it can. White liberal Swarthmore has been content to push for racial justice and Black self-determination in Chester, or Philadelphia, or Media, rather than in its own backyard. Black Power is good in Chester, but bad on campus.11
Admissions
In September 1968, Dean Hargadon published a report on the status of recruitment and admission of “Negro” students. The report discussed the successes and shortcomings of the effort to enroll black students primarily funded by a $275,000 grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. The report contained personal demographics of students who had been admitted along with easily identifiable details. When the College placed the report in the library for public review, we learned that Swarthmore viewed our admission to the College as an experiment. The redacted information in Table 1 showed the family income and number of employed parents for each student. Since names were not listed, the College felt that this table was okay.
Page 32 of the Admissions Report, showing data that has been redacted.
The report detailed the breakdown of SAT scores as well as the grades achieved by men and women in each class. The class of 1970 had only three black men, so if you were one of those three, you could figure out the grades of the other two. Although no students were named, the report, analysis, and tables presented a detailed look at the education, family structure, and family income of this small population. The study detailed students’ academic results and grades, the number of students required to withdraw, and other academic data. Rather than focusing on admissions, Dean Hargadon seemed interested in denying our basic right to privacy.
We felt disrespected not only by having our personal information made available in the library for anyone to see, but also by finding that we had been test subjects in an experiment and treated differently from the other students on campus. This action by the College, and Hargadon’s refusal to change course when challenged about it, galvanized many of those black students who had been ambivalent about the goals of SASS.
Professor Legesse
One of the indirect results of the creation of SASS was the appointment of the College’s first black faculty member. Asmarom Legesse was one of the twenty-two new faculty members hired for the fall semester of 1967 who were announced in the campus newspaper on May 5, 1967. The “Negro Ethiopian,” as he was misidentified by the Phoenix, was initially hired as a temporary faculty member. 12 Some of us took Professor Legesse’s anthropology courses, which were an opportunity to explore concepts like culture, civilization, and social change from a non-European perspective and to incorporate them to our own activist rhetoric. But his presence beyond the classroom was even more important to us. As an African and the only black faculty member, he was very noticeable. Like so many of his Eritrean countrymen, he had a warm demeanor and spoke softly, but with intensity. A cigarette often clung to his dark lips, never falling or dropping its ash. He seemed worldly, yet accessible. He and his Afro-American wife welcomed us into their home, and he participated in our efforts to create a black studies concentration. For white students, it was common to be welcomed into the homes of faculty, but this was a rare opportunity for us.
Black Studies
At Swarthmore, students could pursue a full major in Russian language and culture, but the College did not offer a single course in the history, language, or culture of any nonwhite people. In 1965, the Sociology & Anthropology Department did not exist, providing no mechanism to study non-European societies. It was possible to complete a baccalaureate degree and graduate believing that the only history worth studying about people of African descent was the legacy of colonialism and slavery, and even that was taught with a Eurocentric bias. We believed that applying the usual Swarthmore academic rigor to black studies would be helpful to all.
Kujichagulia (pronounced koo-jee-cha-goo-LEE-ah) is the Swahili word for self-determination. It means “to define ourselves, name ourselves, create for ourselves, and speak for ourselves.” It is one of the Seven Principles embraced by the Black Nationalist Movement emerging as we were coming of age in college. Kujichagulia taught us that we didn’t have to wait for permission from mainstream society to validate our history, culture, and contributions. If we were not satisfied with the educational experience at Swarthmore, it was up to us to correct it.
Before we began setting up a curriculum, we got basic training on black studies by attending meetings and lectures in nearby black communities. SASS regularly invited speakers and performers to campus to enlighten the student body. Many of us spent enough time in Philadelphia to become familiar with the local leaders of the Black Nationalist Movement: people like Walter Palmer, Playthell Benjamin, Father Paul Washington, and John Churchville.