AC_1965_Web

94 AN T I OC H CO L L E G E C L A S S O F 19 6 5 5 0 t h A N N I V E R S A R Y B O O K A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z L AW LAW SYLVIA ADDRESS 4 New York University School of Law, 40 Washington Sq. So., Suite 314 New York, N.Y. 10012 CONTACT 212 673-6335 sylvialaw42@gmail.com I N 1 9 5 9 , A S a senior at Bozeman, Montana,High School, I had no plans to go to college. Bozeman is a col- lege town where, in 1959, the girls majored in home economics and the boys in agriculture, and every- one partied at frat houses and wor- shiped competitive sports. College life was not attractive. Most of my high school classmates were not bound for college and my inability to spell or add put me solidly in the lower half of the class.My family was not wealthy and could not pay for college. Senior year featured many standardized tests. One won me a National Merit Scholarship and gave me a couple days to tell them where I would go school. I read catalogues in the college library. My criteria were: East, medium size, no Greek party houses, no compulsory foot- ball.Antioch fit the bill and had the added bonus of a co-op program. In hindsight, I know I could not have picked a better place to become an adult. I stumbled into enduring friendships. Great teach- ers—Dick Meisler, Louis Filler,Micky McCleary, George Geiger and oth- ers—assumed that we were all intel- lectually curious, able to meet rigor- ous standards and passionate to do some good for humanity. More important, at Antioch I found a beloved community com- mitted to racial integration. The Antioch Coalition for Racial Equality protested the local barber, George Gegner, who refused to cut Negro hair. It opened the door to a huge world of racial inequality, move- ment building, and direct action.The Dayton Alliance for Racial Equality offered the first of many experi- ences registering poor and black voters, then to vote for LBJ over Barry Goldwater. . But, even more important, was the community I found at the 68 Grill and Com’s. Ken Huber intro- duced me to Joe Hunter, a farmer, son of enslaved people, and perhaps the wisest and most sophisticated teacher I have ever had. Obviously “the law” was an im- portant piece of these struggles.We sought out lawyers who told us that neither state nor federal law prohib- ited barbers from refusing service to black people. Gegner, supported by the bankers and businesses of YSO, got an injunction telling us that citi- zens could not congregate in groups of more than three on the streets of Yellow Springs. After serious conversations, we demonstrated. The Greene County sheriffs arrested many of us, includ- ing Joni Rabinowitz. Stella Dallas, wife of the head of the Antioch Drama Department, and mom of Barrie of our class, protested po- lice brutality and got swept up.We fasted and read recipes from the women’s magazines for a few days in the Greene County jail. Joni’s dad, Victor, a leading national civil rights lawyer, came from NewYork to rep- resent us. Invoking the authority of Alice inWonderland, he detailed the many ways in which the injunction violated core First Amendment prin- ciples. He rejected the notion that our families should put their homes up as bond to assure our appear- ance at some future hearing and we walked free. As an official matter, contempt of court charges still pend against me in Greene County. Leaving Antioch in 1964, I wanted to be a civil rights organizer, not a lawyer. Thanks to the co-op program, I had learned that I am a New Yorker.Antioch taught me that I am a good organizer for social jus- tice. I sought work as an organizer at many of the civil rights organi- zations in New York.They all asked about my typing skills. I type fast and well, even though I spell badly and we did not have Spell Check in those days. I did not want a job as a typist, but I needed a paycheck. I worked as a ward clerk at St. Luke’s Hospital and then as an administra- tive assistant at the Encampment for Citizenship at the Ethical Culture