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Student Activism in the 1930s
Radcliffe College, Mass.—New York I began my life in a very conventional manner by being born—this event took place in New York City—my father was a doctor and my mother a dentist besides divers cousins in the nursing profession—so I thrived physically in an antiseptic atmosphere—although I exhibited an unhealthy interest in the pills in my father's office—for they tell me that I tried to put an end to my life at an early age by swallowing them—which may or may not be an indication of my first impressions of the state of the world into which I was born. Among lullabies of a more musical nature, I always remember being lulled to sleep by the sounds of my father's 'meetings'. Though the languages in which they were conducted were incomprehensible to me (my family is Russian Jewish) I caught much of the spirit of enthusiasm which fired them and it seems to me that I have always known that there was a 'radical movement' and that one should vote for Norman Thomas. Gradually I assimilated a mere rational understanding of why this should be. Since I was an only child (and this sad state of affairs has persisted) I was sent to school when I was four years old. At the Friend's Seminary School I met Norman Thomas' daughter Frances, which of course, added to my interest in socialism when I was about five years old. At that school too, I met one of the rare instances of anti-Semitism in my life. This at the age of six or seven when the daughter of a prominent artist offered to tell me the Chinese word for 'hello' if I would 'cross my heart that I wasn't Jewish'. This I proceeded to do and have regretted it ever since. The incident has been one of my many safeguards against hypocrisy; eventually in conjunction with my home influence it fostered a rather strong Jewish sentiment in me. In the fifth grade I transferred to the Ethical Culture School where I remained until I graduated from high school. My first few years there were under the influence and inspiration of my English teacher Miss Mostenson—and I wrote short stories in all my spare time. These were mostly of an imaginative character. In high school Ethics classes assumed a greater importance for me. In these I first met with a systematic as well as philosophical presentation of social problems. I used to travel to school by bus every day—and always sat with a girl who was a staunch 'Hoover' Republican. The discussions I had with her developed my debating powers and my knowledge—as well as my imagination—needless to say, we were never on speaking terms when we parted at night, although we forgot our differences and resumed the discussion every morning. Meanwhile four of my summers were spent in vegetation at a camp. In 1930, however, I went to Europe with my parents. We spent five weeks in Russia, and traveled from Leningrad to Yalta on the Black Sea. These were five weeks of misery for me—my most vivid impressions are of bad smells, lack of food nobody who would speak English with me for my parents wore Russian—and fear, fear, fear. Since we were not traveling with a group, and father was investigating Jewish colonies in Russia we were always accompanied by a spy. I came out minus twenty pounds in weight and with a firm determination never to go near the horrid[?] place again. Apparently my nose hasn't a very keen memory—since now I am very anxious to go back to Russia and study other things besides smells. The year before I graduated from high school I went to Europe on a Pocono Tour with a group of students. We were going to study economic conditions abroad. My most vivid memories are of our stay in Vienna. There we were shown the socialist state in operation or rather, some of the organs through which it functioned and some of its major results. We also visited cooperative factories in Germany and Finland. It was at this time that my interests in socialism emerged from the more emotional stages and I determined to study it and planned to try and write in the future along these lines. When I went to Radcliffe I searched the place for some evidences of radicalism or, at very least, liberalism. There was none to be found. I abandoned the search for the time being—last summer I was anxious to do some work, and got in touch with an educational project for the unemployed. I was sent to a street corner to distribute throw-aways advocating milk, I was also armed with detailed information about what to do 'when' I was arrested. Sure enough the policeman on the beat approached me, and I trembled energetically. But instead of arresting me, he studied my throw-aways with interest—and gave me his 'radical' views on economics. We parted on very friendly terms both of us satisfied since we each... [manuscript illegible for one line here] Unfortunately I was doomed to rest and stagnate at the seashore for the rest of the summer. At the beginning of this winter, I felt smothered by conditions at Radcliffe, and wrote to the L.I.D. begging them to revive me. I received a consoling letter in return and the issue seemed closed. So at the dinner for Laski—and I decided to employ more militant tactics—and attacked Monroe Sweetland. George Edwards came to Cambridge and we got started. Bob Newman helped considerably at first and also got me interested in the Student Committee Against War and Fascism. The strike committee of the peace Strike made permanent. I was put on the executive council of this. I joined the Summer School to enrich my knowledge of conditions theoretically and practically, to find out where my interests in the radical movement really lie—and to gather material with which to make our Radcliffe Chapter of the L.I.D. vital and active, to make it as important to every girl who joins it as it is to me now. So here I am—and I hope that my life will be less conventional than it seemed at the outset, and that I will find a better solution for it than the poisonous one I sought to employ when I was three years old. Home | Historical Essay | Documents | Credits |
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