May 27, 2020

Wednesday, 27 May, Chapter Two, “The Powerful Impact of Southern Methodist University,” >>>>> >A Teacher’s Journey from Southern Methodist University to North Minneapolis: Foundations for Overhaul of the Minneapolis Public Schools< >>>>> A Memoir >>>>> Gary Marvin Davison

Southern Methodist University was as politically curious as it was an academically engaging place to be in the very late 1960s and very early 1970s.

 

Education professor ne’er-do-well Mel Fuller once drew a raucous guffaw from campus radical John Mallios when he made a plea to the students in his “Issues in Education” class to wear suitable clothes when visiting schools and in anticipating student teaching:

 

“You know, many people in Dallas consider SMU to be a hotbed of American radicalism.”

 

Mallios could scarcely contain himself, first with sardonic laughter, then in stunned and silent anger.  This was after all a university in which the student body had gone 60% for Richard Nixon and 40% for George McGovern in a mock election of November 1972.

 

While Mallios sat stunned, I commented without raising my hand,

 

“I find no reason why you would not explain the error of that preposterous characterization, which I wish were true, to school personnel---  and I have no patience with your request that male student visitors and teachers wear coats and ties or strive to meet any standard except high quality teaching.”

 

Fuller just wore his typically court-fool grin and tried to wait out one of those awkward moments that drew this comment from my roommate, Al Deright, of my junior year:

 

“You know, Gary, I admire your outspoken stances, and to be sure you’re usually right, but you know---  the things you say make people uncomfortable.”

 

Fuller felt mighty uncomfortable. 

 

I would continue to make him so many times. 

 

He really did not know what to do with me and my obvious contempt for the vacuity of his course and the facile nature of his thinking.  Dennis still laughs about a touchy-feely exercise he was putting us through instead of discussing a school system that produced even among those who managed to graduate hordes of students who could not read beyond a second grade level.  We were supposed to gather in circles of about eight or so, with two people left outside and faced with the dilemma of how to invite them inside without dropping hands securing the circle:

 

I was one of the two left out of the group forming the circle;  the other was a young woman of average height and weight.  I immediately resolved my group’s dilemma by lifting her over the group and dropping her gently inside the circle.

 

Dennis beamed.  The incident became a standard in our reminiscences of education classes, along with Buchanan’s “sign of the buffalo” and our once being asked in another touchy-feely exercise to get in touch with our surroundings with the exhortation to

 

“Feel the air---  shape it into little balls.”

 

As to that earlier class and the reference to the campus as a hotbed for radicalism, Mallios came up to me afterward and thanked me profusely for speaking up after Fuller’s comment had left his leftist tongue in radical knots.

 

…………………………………………………………………………………    

 

What made the era at SMU so fascinating is that there was, despite the dominant conservatism and the Greek system vibe, a liberal and even radical element in the student body.  Jerry Rubin made a well-received campus visit, urging students to

 

“Vote for McGovern.  He just tells two percent of the truth, but that 2% is that much more than Richard Nixon has ever told.”

 

George Carlin and Dick Gregory made a splash with leftwing comedic performances at the SMU Student Union. 

 

There were organizations such as Students for a Democratic Society (the campus affiliate of that conservative’s anathema, SDS) and Students Against Racism.  Feminists were in the minority but there were those among us who relished the visits from members of the National Organization of Women (NOW) and publication of the first issue of Gloria Steinem’s Ms. Magazine.  Students congregated with alacrity to hear celebrities such as Peter Yarrow (Peter, Paul, and Mary) speak at the autumn 1969 Moratorium in protest of the War in Vietnam.

 

There was even a very tenuous, brief takeover of the SMU president’s office.  I was in the crowd outside gathered to consider the action but was not among those who implemented the takeover.  I discerned that in all likelihood my radicalism would be more long-lived than the commitments of those engaged in the takeover.  With that decision-making gift bestowed upon me by Big Marv, I determined then and thenceforth that my radicalism would not take the form of transient takeovers but rather the dedication to transformation of as many student lives as possible via the power of knowledge-intensive education.

 

I have never been much of a mass-gathering protester or demonstrator.  My activism has to date been waged more singly, on the strength of research and facts that pertain to manifestly monstrous situations that go to the root rather than linger at the surface of social and political vexations.  This has led me to make those appearances at every Public Comment period of the Minneapolis Public Schools (MPS) Board of Education for six years running and to create my various platforms for what has up to now been a rather singularly waged exposure of intellectual and moral corruption.

 

But I admire fervently the highly directed, well-conceived, local orientation of Saul Alinsky-type radicalism.   

 

The education establishment of Minneapolis will be encountering such radicalism.

 

I will organize the movement.

 

And, ironically, much of the spirit that will animate that movement gathered force at a university that, if not a hotbed, might be considered my seedbed for radicalism. 

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