As she walked past the ROTC building Claire couldn’t help but compare this morning’s calm to the commotion and bitter expressions characterizing yesterday’s student sit-in. The inclusion of ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Corps) coursework among the University’s accredited courses of study had become a bone of contention among anti-war student activists in recent months, and as the Vietnam conflict became an increasingly divisive issue an ROTC presence on campus began to rankle some faculty members as well. Among these was Paul Kirkham, who willingly led the campus anti-war charge in behalf of students and faculty.
Yesterday’s demonstration had gotten underway during the mid-morning hours as dissidents began to converge on the ROTC building with signs and placards. The hastily scribbled slogans labeled the war illegal and immoral. One student in full hippie regalia carried a sign that read, “MAKE LOVE – NOT WAR.” Another wore a sandwich board that read, “REFUSE TO PLAY POLITICAL FOOTBALL IN VIETNAM.” Still another sign read, “GET OUT OF ROTC AND GET ROTC OUT OF SAN DIEGO STATE.” As lunchtime approached, defiant students took up their posts, sprawling in the doorways and hallways of the ROTC building, blocking the way for any who wished to enter, and soon the sit-in evolved into a campus spectacle – a “happening,” as some students termed it, with a carnival-like atmosphere. The high point of all this drama came when a self-appointed leader of the many who were milling about the area took a front and center position on the steps of the building. Bellowing into a battery powered bullhorn he introduced Dr. Paul Kirkham, who emerged from the crowd amidst cheers and whistles.
Though his comments lacked the radical quality of some who had held the attention of several smaller groups within the general throng, his delivery was strong and galvanizing. Paul’s well-reasoned thoughts and his concise use of language articulated student concerns in a compelling manner. He spoke of the University curriculum as being out of touch and out of step with current-day realities. He saluted students who clamored for relevance in politics, in social values, and particularly in the curriculum at San Diego State. Withdrawing an envelope from his pocket he held it up dramatically, declaring it to be an “open” letter to the president of the University, Eugene Michaelson. “You can read this letter for yourselves,” he said. “The complete text will be printed in the next issue of the Daily Aztec. But I’ll tell you what it says. It calls for the end of military indoctrination on this campus!” With that, a spontaneous cheer erupted. Then came rhythmic chanting that started among a few of the listeners, and became general throughout the crowd: “STOP THE WAR … STOP THE WAR … STOP THE WAR.” As he waved his hand in the air, the chanting gradually fell off and Paul continued. “If students want to study military science, let them go to military academies, but let’s stop teaching people how to make war at tax payer’s expense!” There were more cheers. “Don’t you think there is enough war propaganda in America without dignifying it with a place on university campuses?” The reaction was jubilant. “I say let’s get ROTC off this campus now!” Then, gesturing to the ROTC building behind him, he added, “someone should shut this building down now!”
The signs and banners were in the air once again as the shouts and cheers became bedlam. In the melee that followed a number of windows were broken and the large sign identifying the military science building was uprooted and carried away as a trophy. Buckets of paint came from somewhere and soon slogans matching those on the signs bobbing about were smeared on the building’s grey stucco facing. As these acts of vandalism commenced a few campus policemen, who had been on the scene all throughout the day, roused themselves from seeming impotence and began moving in on the demonstrators. Amid catcalls and references to the “police pigs” the crowd gradually dispersed, restoring calm to the campus.
Apparently the San Diego Tribune had been given advance notice of the event, as there was a reporter on the scene. The next issue carried a full account of the story, together with several photographs capturing the raw emotion of the demonstration. Though the Tribune usually showed only mild interest in university affairs, an early release of Paul’s letter to President Michaelson was a tip off that something newsworthy was about to happen on campus. In addition to the Tribune’s coverage of the story, a sharply worded editorial raised questions about sound scholarship, traditional loyalties, and the responsible use of state funding for higher education.
In her public relations role, Claire felt embarrassment for the University. She resented the summer workshop assignment that would require her to work so closely with a man she had come to dislike from afar. His arrogance repelled her and his ideas ran against her grain. Claire’s outlook on social and political issues was well defined. Her father, a high school teacher and later a principal, had been an idealist of the highest order. Without stilted or heavy-handed pedagogy he had been able to consistently draw people to his conservative outlook – students, teachers, and especially his own family. Like her father, Claire drew clear distinctions between right and wrong. In her mind, traditional values represented non-negotiable verities, and those who made sport of ridiculing them were a dangerous sort, building nothing of lasting value as they chipped away at the mortar holding society together.
Claire was a single woman – not that she hadn’t looked forward to marriage, but there had been bitter disappointments in her relationships with men. Although these disappointments had involved genuine reasons for dissatisfaction with suitors, there was something else – something subtle, albeit real, that interfered with her objectivity when it came to the opposite sex. It was Claire’s inclination to compare all men to the stature of her father, and those comparisons had invariably left her wishing for better marital prospects.
Claire’s outlook on life had also been shaped by the sterling example of her mother. Though polished and well educated, she had consciously chosen to make mothering her profession. Although she lacked the skill with words that Claire’s father possessed, she effectively expressed herself in a homespun way, evidencing an insight into life that was less philosophical and more intuitive in nature. Her life belonged to her husband and her children – not that she had been pressed into that kind of commitment by circumstances, but because of choices she made early on in her marriage. Her life was the product of her own design. She savored those precious moments when, as a mother hen, she was able to gather her chicks about her. Without prying she had easy access to their lives and their minds, and without demands for conformity she had inculcated a code of conduct into their hearts that endured without the slightest coercion on her part. Claire had consciously embraced the maxims and “value-drenched” witticisms that flowed so easily from her mother. Many a late night chat or snatch of kitchen conversation still remained alive and potent within her during these mature years of her life.
But it was more than familial loyalty that engendered Claire’s antipathy for Paul. Her home life may have been the seedbed for her values, but her outlook at this stage of her life had emerged from the crucible of her own experience, and some of those experiences had been full of personal challenges that demanded a cogent life philosophy of her own. Against the backdrop of these realities, the current groundswell of new thinking was troublesome to Claire. It grated against her intellectual and spiritual sensitivities. She simply disagreed with the passionate voices proselytizing in behalf of variant lifestyles and altered values. She discerned self-serving motives, flawed logic, and self-indulgent blindness among the proponents of these new creeds.
She included Paul Kirkham among the proponents of things she regarded as repugnant. Claire had been analytic about these feelings of disdain. At one point it became apparent to her that her loathing was not fixed upon individual issues, but rather the composite, the whole picture, the blending together of some legitimate issues with others that she regarded as morally corrosive. She was in accord with the current plea for greater racial tolerance and was sympathetic to the plight of black people who, she felt, had suffered centuries of civil rights abuses. She welco
med the prospect of increased recognition of women’s abilities and favored a broadened sphere for their contributions, but she resisted the amalgamation of these issues with those that demanded the repeal of abortion laws, the legitimizing of libertine sexuality, and the acceptance of recreational drug use. Her feelings regarding the war in Vietnam were less defined. Still, she was deeply troubled at the rancor of the protesters. She felt that their ridicule of those in military service and their blatant disrespect for governmental institutions went beyond the limits of acceptable criticism.
On one occasion she had remarked to a friend that much of the current rhetoric resembled bad arithmetic – adding two plus two and arriving at six. “Everybody knows that there are problems and abuses,” she said, “but to add all the grievances together, some of which are completely without merit, and arrive at the need for a militant social revolution is a dreadful mistake. It seems that much of this is driven by angry people in search of a cause to dignify their dissatisfaction with life in general, and perhaps their dissatisfaction with themselves. I’m not a cynic, but I don’t trust human nature. I don’t trust the motives of people who are so passionate about changing the way others think.” On another occasion Claire observed that the commingling of all these issues had come to resemble a witch’s brew that would likely poison society a large. “I have no inclination to get on the bandwagon,” she said unequivocally. “I don’t want to be pandered with justifications to pull up stakes and move to a new way of living that requires less idealism or personal discipline.”
Claire arrived at the life sciences building a few minutes early. Leo’s secretary greeted her graciously, indicating that Dr. Kirkham and Dr. Dykeman were concluding an earlier meeting. “If you’ll take a seat,” she said, “I’m sure they won’t be long.”
Seating herself, Claire retrieved a folder from her briefcase where she had assembled a number of pertinent items relating to the conference. Claire was in her early thirties. Without exaggeration one might have described her as a beautiful woman. She wore her shoulder length jet-black hair in a casual style which, in contrast to her light complexion, made her face seem almost radiant. Although lipstick had become less fashionable in recent years, she used it skillfully, together with mascara, to highlight her stunning features. Claire’s feminine form was exquisitely proportioned, and her persona was characterized by confidence and poise. As a little girl she would have looked like a china doll, and as a mature woman she was so striking in her appearance as to attract the immediate attention of men and women alike. Claire was reflective and reserved by nature, but when she chose to speak her manner was assertive and her words were cogent. In debate she was spirited and uncompromising.
Those who knew Claire only casually were sometimes intimidated by her apparent self-confidence as well as the firmness of her views. But those who had dealings with her soon came under the spell of her idealism and that charm which she innocently exuded. Many regarded her as a friend, and because of her loyalty to those friendships she was highly trusted. Though Claire was firm in her own beliefs and expectations of self, she was tolerant and understanding when it came to others, consciously drawing a line between issues and people. For her, issues were black or white, but so far as people were concerned she was forgiving of faults and quick to discern the complex reasons for people’s behavior. Still, Claire was capable of being feisty when sufficiently aggravated. Truly she was a curious combination of graciousness and strong-willed resolution. Once she had taken a stand against something she was typically unrelenting, and such was her position regarding the highly publicized activities of Dr. Paul Kirkham. She had made up her mind on this matter!
Presently the door on the other side of the waiting area opened, revealing the slightly rotund form and smiling face of Leo Dykeman. “Good morning, Claire. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Come join us, won’t you?”
Following the customary courtesies, Claire seated herself in the overstuffed chair a few feet from the one where Paul was seated. Leo sat on the sofa, forming a triangle with the other two pieces of furniture. A coffee table strewn with assorted periodicals filled out the center of the arrangement. The meeting commenced, and at Leo’s request Claire briefly summarized the arrangements that had been made with the hotel and restaurant people on Shelter Island, and then described the preliminary advertising efforts as well as the status of advanced ticket sales. As usual, she was organized and professional. It was the first time Paul and Claire had met face to face. Heretofore all communication between the two of them had been relayed through Leo.
Paul absorbed what Claire had to say without comment, but studied her carefully as she spoke. She reminded him of a professor at the University of Michigan who had taught a class on measurements and statistics, one of the less exciting classes required of behavioral science graduate students. To her credit this young professor had presented drab technical information in such an organized, entertaining fashion as to effectively remove the drudgery from the class. She, too, had been an attractive woman, but not nearly so striking as Claire. Although Paul knew very little about Claire personally, he was aware that she was a single woman. He wondered why.
Following their discussion of physical arrangements for the conference Leo turned his attention to the workshop presentations themselves. Paul had likewise done his homework as he reviewed the design strategy of the various sessions. He indicated that invitations to the some twenty presenters had been extended and accepted. As the meeting worked towards its conclusion, the discussion turned to the first general session of the conference in which Paul would make keynote remarks. His presentations throughout the week-long conference had been emphasized in the advertising, in as much as his name was being used to stimulate interest among potential participants. The unprecedented success of the N.E.T. television series had established him as an emerging celebrity in many parts of the country.
What happened next came as a surprise to all, bringing this rather routine planning meeting to an abrupt and uncomfortable close. Leo had referred to the success of advanced ticket sales, noting Paul’s television appeal as a contributing factor. The comment provided Claire an opportunity to express feelings that had continued to agitate her since the previous evening. She spoke calmly, but with unveiled candor. “Dr. Kirkham’s notoriety may become more of a liability than an asset before we’re finished preparing for the conference.” Her meaning was clear to both Leo and Paul.
Knowing Paul as he did and wishing to forestall a clash between him and Claire, Leo immediately took charge of the conversation. “Claire, I think you’re overreacting to …”
“I’m not overreacting, Leo.” Claire, having taken up the charge, was unwilling to let the matter rest. There were things that simply needed to be said. “I have ears and eyes. I know when something is going to have a negative effect upon the public. I also know that local news becomes national news when it involves someone of prominence.”
Paul’s reaction was cool and controlled. “Just what are you suggesting, Miss Duncan?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling both of you that what happened at the ROTC Building yesterday was a fiasco for this University.” She now directed her words squarely at Paul. “It’s inconsistent for my office to be sponsoring the name of Dr. Paul Kirkham while at the same time you’re involved with things that are boiling over with controversy. Things like yesterday’s circus could quickly undo all our PR efforts.”
Leo again tried to insert himself into the conversation, but Paul raised his hand, waving him off. Paul now chose his words carefully as he spoke incisively to Claire. It was apparent that his intent was humiliation. “You’re speaking of things that are of no concern to you or your staff, Miss Duncan. May I remind you that the conference is exclusively a Psychology Department project. You are an employee of the University, and for the time being, our employee. We have not asked you to make any value judgments nor are they welcome in this setting. If my actions engender controversy, tha
t is my concern, not yours. I will not permit you to tell me what I should or should not do in my professional life. Do I make myself clear?”
The hammer blow of Paul’s words did not produce the desired effect. Unruffled and every bit as collected as her adversary, she retorted with her own sharp words. “You need to get your facts straight, Dr. Kirkham. The Psychology Department doesn’t own this project. You’ve involved the staff of 20 people from other departments and disciplines. That makes it very much a University project. Moreover, the Administration has appropriated all conference support funds to my office. The oversight for the staging of this conference has been placed in our hands.”
Paul had obviously failed to intimidate Claire. Though she had masked her dislike for him in earlier meetings with Leo, those feelings now added force to her words as she continued. “There’s one other detail I’d like to emphasize. Neither you nor Leo brought me on board to do a job! My assignment came from the President’s Office. I answer to him, not to you. You can be assured, Dr. Kirkham, that I would not presume to tell you what you can or can’t do in your professional life, but yesterday’s charade is my business because it affects my job! If you insist on playing the devil’s advocate on this campus, and if you can’t be more sensitive as to what bad press means for the University, I refuse to be responsible if this project never gets off the ground. Furthermore, if advance ticket sales fall off or if people begin to cancel and ask for their money back, I’ll use any influence I have with the President’s Office to see that the plug is pulled on the conference. And now, gentlemen, unless there are other pressing items to consider I wish to be excused. I have another appointment.”
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