Emerson Brooking | Lessons from 1969

Forty years ago next week, a determined group of students filed into College Hall with sleeping bags under their arms and no intention of leaving. These students' actions sparked a six-day demonstration that would grow to involve nearly 1,000 people, encapsulating the counterculture movement of the late 1960s and marking arguably the most successful student protest in our University's history.

Today, the generational frustrations and struggles of the Vietnam era have faded. Nationally our demographic recently played a critical role in elevating a new administration - and a fresh perspective - to the White House. On campus, Penn students enjoy a cordial relationship with University administrators. Beyond occasional episodes like the divestment effort, few issues have garnered the passion to throw students and administrators into serious contention.

While much has changed in the intervening years, the significance of the College Hall sit-in has only grown. Particularly because our generation has chosen to affect change through elections and committees instead of rallies and sit-ins, it's important to understand where we used to be - and how far we've come.

My father was an active participant in the takeover of College Hall. As he remembers it, students were divided in their reasons for staging the protest but united in their desire to stay. Some were objecting to Penn's involvement in biological-weapons research, while others were condemning the broader Vietnam War. Everyone was outraged by the University's aggressive policy of westward expansion, through which blocks of low-income housing were scooped up, effectively kicking residents to the curb.

Those who joined the protest did so at much greater risk than a disciplinary slap on the wrist or a hit to their GPA. They risked the loss of their student deferments, the lifeline of any male college student. Without it, eligible males would be drafted almost immediately into the Vietnam War - a conflict that had already killed tens of thousands of American servicemen. According to my father, "This fact makes the action we took in College Hall a lot more remarkable. We had a lot to lose if we were expelled from the University, including our lives."

Protestors also faced the very real possibility of injury or arrest. A racially charged 1968 demonstration at Columbia University had ended with tragedy as 150 students were injured and more than 700 were arrested. My father remembers the fear and anxiety shared among the College Hall protestors when word arrived that Frank Rizzo, Philadelphia's infamously violent chief of police, had assembled a team of storm troopers to "bust heads" and clear the building.

Nevertheless, as the days passed, more and more people pushed their way into College Hall to join the protestors. At its height, the sit-in encompassed nearly 1,000 participants, including Penn, Temple and Drexel students, and a number of West Philadelphia community leaders. For the first time since the disagreements began, Penn administrators agreed to meetings with the protestors' elected representatives.

Finally, six days after the first students had laid claim to College Hall, the students and administrators reached a settlement. The University acceded to nearly every one of the protestors' demands, including a committee to exercise veto power over all future expansion efforts, a $10 million grant toward the construction of alternate housing for displaced West Philadelphia residents and a stipulation prohibiting scientific research of a destructive nature. All told, the protest was a success.

The College Hall incident marks an unreal chapter from a radically different era. Today, there is no draft or Vietnam War. Penn no longer menaces West Philadelphia with the threat of sudden eviction, and the counterculture of the 1960s has been supplanted by the belief that working through the system - not against it - is the best way to effect lasting change. After all, it's worth remembering that today's infrastructure of student committees and administrative liaisons exerts an impressive impact on the course of University decision-making.

However, it's worth remembering that one of the most important policy shifts in Penn's history was brought about not by an endless stream of meetings or petitions, but by sleeping bags. While such drastic action has gradually fallen out of use, it's important to recognize that the College Hall sit-in accomplished more in six days than decorous procedure often does in years.

Emerson Brooking is a College sophomore from Turnerville, Ga. Southern Comfort appears on alternating Wednesdays. His email address is brooking@dailypennsylvanian.com.

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