Gathering Places
Gathering Places
Call to war stirs
memories of a past causeWith the nation divided on the prospect of war against Iraq, I remember a turning point in my life: the Bachman Hall sit-in at the University of Hawaii in the spring of 1968. More than 150 faculty and students were involved. Ostensibly, the sit-in was to protest the denial of tenure to an assistant professor of political science, Oliver Lee, for his stance against the war in Vietnam. But in reality, our focus was on the war rather than academic freedom.
When I look back on that era, I remember the intense emotions and controversy the war evoked. Men discussed the option of fleeing the country to dodge the draft. Proponents of the war insisted that Southeast Asia would fall like dominoes into the hands of the communists if the United States didn't win the war in Vietnam.
Of course, we know that hasn't occurred and the United States now has normalized relations with Vietnam.
So, what happened that night in Bachman Hall? I recall standing on the stairs with other protesters, singing, "We shall overcome," tears streaming down my face. Then the police came, read us our rights and herded us into paddy wagons. At the jail, I had to sit in front of an officer who typed my name and other personal information. We were assigned to large cells, where students playfully swung from the bars.
After my boyfriend posted my $25 bail, I walked out of the building to the cheers and applause of scores of onlookers. The next day, Aunty Helen telephoned me at home and asked, "Was that you on TV?" Minutes later, my boss at King's Bakery, where I worked part-time, called to lay me off. Fortunately, the loss of that job was the only casualty of my sit-in, and I still held a part-time job in the psychology department at UH.
That week, faculty and students sat or slept on the grass in front of Bachman Hall, where supporters provided food and beverages. Professors who were not involved in the demonstration pleaded with students to take their final exams and not cut classes.
Later, we appeared in court to face charges of trespassing, but the judge acquitted all of us, our records were expunged and bail money was returned to us. As a result of the sit-in, Oliver Lee was granted tenure.
My activism did not stop there. After graduating from UH and leaving Hawaii in the summer of 1968, I joined the Eugene McCarthy for President campaign in Los Angeles, mainly because of his opposition to the war. His loss to Hubert Humphrey as the Democratic Party candidate saddened me.
Then, as an English teacher in Thailand, I held debates in my classes, pitting students in favor of the American military presence in Southeast Asia against students who thought Americans should leave. The students themselves voted for their favorite team.
Many felt that Thai culture was being destroyed by Americans.
After moving to New York, I was swept up in the anti-war movement at Columbia University. I rode on a chartered bus with faculty and students to Washington, D.C., where thousands gathered in front of the White House to protest the war.
Today, I'm a wife and mother of two grown children. I am relieved that they don't feel the need to demonstrate against the government, and are doing well in life. Nevertheless, when people ask me what the sit-ins and demonstrations accomplished, I reply, "For one thing, they heightened awareness and stirred the national conscience. Rather than apathetically accepting the status quo, demonstrators everywhere questioned the morality of our involvement in the Vietnamese civil war. I am not ashamed to have been one of those demonstrators."
Glenda Chung Hinchey is a freelance writer in Honolulu.