Oral history interview with Donald W. Russell, 1990 [text/print transcript]

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UNCG CENTENNIAL ORAL HISTORY PROJECT COLLECTION
INTERVIEWEE: Donald W. Russell
INTERVIEWER: Anne Phillips
DATE: February 14, 1990
DR: Okay. I'm Don Russell, who has been at Woman's College [of the University of North Carolina], now UNCG [The University of North Carolina at Greensboro], for too long
possibly. Retired in 1984. Called back '87-'88 as dean, re-retired, and et cetera.
AP: Tell me about growing up; tell me about your background just a bit.
DR: Well, as you can tell from my Bostonese nasality that I am a New Englander. And then came south of the border experimentally to get away from shoveling snow, et cetera.
[recording paused]
AP: Okay, so you came south. Tell about your own background and your own schooling.
DR: Well, after preparatory school in Boston [Massachusetts], I headed north, did my undergraduate work at Bates College in Lewiston, Maine, the end of which, Uncle Sam [United States military] stuck his nose into the picture. Then found out that I was not quite draftable at the time, so I was able to go to Boston University [Boston, Massachusetts] and pick up a master's degree. And Uncle Sam did his job for about four years, which for a lot of fellows are prime years, but that's rationalization, I think. Then coming back out of the service, I finished up my doctorate at Boston University, then went to the University of Hartford [Connecticut] for five years as dean. Then, as a result of itchy feet and wanting to get out of administrivia [administration] [AP chuckles], enter the classroom and so forth, was asked about the possibility of moving to what was then WC [Woman's College]. And I had no idea of doing this. And then I was asked, "Well, please come down during the spring holidays and visit us." So I did come down for that interview, and Greensboro being dogwood city, I was overwhelmed. My wife took one look and we agreed: this is not quite the Garden of Eden, but dogwoods were in bloom and that did it, along with the magnetism of Curry School [campus laboratory school], which was then pretty much at its peak as a very ideal place for our three youngsters.
AP: And that spring was what spring?
DR: That was the spring of '55. And, sure enough, that September we shouldered the burdens of a heavy teaching schedule and settled in and became a part of that fabulous institution. 2
AP: So that was Woman's College. So tell me about Curry School when you came. Tell me about what was here and what you envisioned.
DR: Well, at the time Curry School was very fortunate in being able to be very selective of its teachers. They all had academic rank, ranging from instructor to full professor. The principal was a full professor. And, of course, they doubled in brass, taught primarily extension courses, Saturday classes, and whatnot. But it was an ideal situation, not only for my three youngsters, but also teaching within the School of Education, we had a laboratory. It was not called a "Lab School," in the true sense of the word, although at one time it was called a demonstration school. But it was linked up with the city school system, and the city paid half of the bill. And the staff was part of the city school system, but at the same time under aegis of the university.
AP: Staff received their pay from the university?
DR: Well, it was—I never knew all the intricacies involved. Of course, it was all state money, but the funneling was through the city of Greensboro and through the Woman's College. But the high caliber of the teachers and so forth—the small classes and then the fact that in our education classes, we could turn them into laboratory situations, if we were concerned about a developmental process within the secondary school youngster. We could go to those classrooms, whether there was history, science, English, foreign languages, or whatever, or bring those kids—have the audacity to bring those kids into our classes. And I think it really paid dividends; it was exciting while it lasted. Of course, the financing of the Curry School defied analysis, as time went on. And the competition to match the local salaries and whatnot was very difficult, and I think stark pragmatism, stark reality really, necessitated the closing of the school much to the consternation of the city of Greensboro, much to the consternation of the Curry School alumni—many of whom were distinct leaders in the community and in North Carolina.
AP: When was that closing? About what time?
DR: Anne, I—this is the middle sixties, I guess. And it was a difficult task. There was not quite blood spilled, but there were those individuals who were hung in effigy and a variety of other things. It was quite exciting.
AP: I see. [chuckles] So where did the push for the closing come from, or where did the mandate for the closing come from? Do you know?
DR: I think probably from General Administration [of the University of North Carolina System], in relation to the financial arrangement and whatnot. And it was a very obvious situation that—there had been much consternation. Was it not simply a convenience for faculty children? But that was not really the case because there was a Curry School district, an integral part of the Greensboro City School System. So there was a fascinating cross-section of humanity ranging from the acme to the nadir, intellectually and so forth—which is good. 3
AP: Yes, mixing—
DR: But its smallness did pose a problem. But while it lasted, I think it performed a phenomenal service.
AP: Was some of the—? Now that was just shortly after the civil rights movement—the Sit-ins in 1960. And I understand that bussing then did become a reality in Greensboro, mid to late sixties? Is that correct? Did that affect some of the policy or the planning at Curry?
DR: I really don't think so. Along about this same time, of course, there was the interesting situation evolving of the first blacks coming into a particular secondary—Grimsley High School, which was then Greensboro Senior High School. But I think probably the question probably came in—what do we do with Curry if—? But it really didn't arise. Essentially, the closing, I think, had no relationship whatsoever. Others might know a little bit more about what consternations arose at the time, but I don't believe it had anything to do with integration.
AP: So until the mid-sixties or until even the closing of Curry, it was pretty much an all-white school, faculty and student body, there?
DR: Oh yes. That's right.
AP: Yes. I just wondered how that went. So about what number of faculty did you have teaching in Curry?
DR: Well, it was almost a one teacher per grade, of course, at the elementary school because of the smallness. But the reputation of those people as educators was really outstanding. They played their role as integral workers within the Greensboro School System, but within the realm of academia here on campus. It was a very effective melding of professionalism and academia. At the secondary school there were—I'm trying to follow down through the curriculum—but basically speaking, it was one person per subject, except in English, of course. Almost too small an entity. But let's face it, the individual attention of each youngster was just beyond saying.
AP: I'm thinking that the percentage of youngsters who went on to college and even graduate schools, the percentage must have been pretty high.
DR: Exceedingly high.
AP: But all of those youngsters would have had a love of their education—many of them—from their homes anyway, is that your feeling?
DR: That's right. Oh yes. And many would, after the sixth grade or the eighth grade, transfer to the city schools. The advantages, for example, of the youngster who was a good athlete, and I'm sure there was some recruiting done by the coaches in the senior high schools, so 4
that was a factor. Also, there were broader offerings in the city high schools. What a youngster could get at Curry in chemistry, for instance, could go just about so far, in physics just about so far and Romance languages just about so far. Therefore the wider number of offerings in the public school was an attraction to a lot of them. My youngsters actually graduated from the Greensboro Senior High School, leaving Curry in the eighth grade.
AP: Although Curry did go through the twelfth. And the faculty and the training—tell me a little bit about Curry as a lab school or as a training ground for teachers.
DR: Well, I think there was an inseparableness between, let's say, teachers of English and the English Department at the Woman's College. The Romance languages and so forth—were inseparable. Many of them, there was dual instruction going on, so there was a cross-referencing, an interplay. Very often, for example, people from the history department, people from the Romance language department, from the English department would be in the Curry School classrooms, sharing this instructional situation—which was of phenomenal benefit, particularly to the student.
AP: That would be quite an advantage and an interesting interplay, as you suggest. Well, tell me a bit about the administration here at Woman's College when you came. Now that was just after Dr. [Edward Kidder] Graham's [Jr., chancellor], or during the time of—
DR: It was during his last two years, actually, which was a—I found him a fascinating individual. And many times talked with him over in the chancellor's house. He ran a very interesting Faculty Assembly meeting.
AP: I see. [laughs] How was that?
DR: Well, fascinating individual—a little man, but not pompous. But nevertheless he held the floor very well, was an inveterate pipe smoker, et cetera. I found the early Faculty Assembly meetings just so fascinating. One of my colleagues said, "Lord, you ought to charge admission for these." One aside in this respect: I will always remember how rapt, attention-wise, everyone was when Miss Jane Summerell [Class of 1910, Class of 1923, 1978 Honorary Degree] read the faculty minutes—she being the [Geoffrey] Chaucer [English poet of the Middle Ages] scholar from the English department. It had a beautiful flow of language, and she wrote the minutes like an ongoing novel with local color, with a crisis or two and beautiful denouement and so forth. [AP chuckles] And with her beautiful use of language, I honestly think many people came to Faculty Assembly meetings to hear Miss Jane read the minutes. That's kind of a dangerous generalization.
AP: Well, but it's interesting.
DR: But she was magnificent.
AP: Yes, it sounds so. Like—
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DR: That never, never would happen at any other institution I don't think. She was a treasure.
AP: That is very special. Well, how did she fit in, and how did she report some of the faculty meetings, especially when there might have been controversy?
DR: Well, she would weave in a bit of humor, which would balance some of the venom which might have been expectorated in the process—in the repartee which had taken place in the meeting. But her presence, sitting up there with Dr. Graham, a very stately, almost regal person, and you know that she was taking particular notes which would eventually be woven into a beautiful unfolding of minutes like no one else had ever compiled.
AP: That's interesting. Well, how do you see the nature of the controversy? What were some of these more vocal meetings about?
DR: Well, I think much of it was simply the perpetuation of some of the traditional dilemmas which universities still don't know how to face. What is our role in relation to the total university? And, of course, then it was essentially in three branches of the university—there was [North Carolina] State [University, Raleigh, North Carolina], [University of North Carolina at] Chapel Hill and little sister, Woman's College over here in Greensboro. So it was interesting even when the either the chancellor from Chapel Hill or [William C.] Bill Friday [president of the UNC System], or even his predecessor came in, you felt as though they were playing a different role than they would if they were on the larger branches. I can't quite put that into words, but they seemed to feel more comfortable—of course, it was smaller, distinctly smaller. And the Faculty Assembly, when they'd come in to address it, was more like a family type of situation. And some of them had married WC ladies, so they felt that it was an interesting coming home in more ways than one.
AP: I see. Not exactly incestuous, but maybe close to it. I don't know. [laughing]
DR: Yes, this was fascinating to me, being a misplaced Yankee and so forth, here south of the border—to see the Southern heritage evolving. Listening to Bill Friday address, when he became president—here is the perfect manifestation of the Southern gentleman, and with his very dry wit and so forth, it was—. Everyone showed up at Faculty Assembly when Bill was going to be with us.
AP: So you were observing the workings of Southern minds and Southern interactions?
DR: Well, in a way, yes, it was an interesting experience in more ways than one, Anne, for the simple reason that when I met my first class in the School of Education—a class of between seventy and seventy-five juniors and seniors, all young ladies who had a fierce battle with my Bostonese nasality. And I had an equal difficulty with, some of them, with very deep drawls, along with the colloquialisms which inevitably exist. We had a great time, but I had to admit that I had difficulty understanding some of the lingo; they likewise reciprocated with their difficulties interpreting mine.
AP: But this was all in good spirits, or was it fairly open antagonism? 6
DR: Oh, yes. No, none whatsoever. I had the gall to say, "Now, wait a minute, let me have that once more. I like what I hear, say it in the same manner that you did," which startled them to a certain extent, but they would ask me the same thing. Why I parked my "cah" [car] in a "bahn" [barn] and so on and so forth, when actually there is supposed to be an R in the English language.
AP: So they—but they were good students. What about the student body? Well, you saw more of the women who were working going into teaching, but could you comment either on women in education or women in other parts of the university, just the student body as a whole.
DR: Well, I found it refreshing in that I think that the admissions standards, the selection process, was very praiseworthy. I've thought about this many, many times, and I don't know how to really objectively analyze it other than the fact—. Well, one advantage I did have was that I was teaching courses that were required—therefore went far beyond those who were simply in there to gain a teaching certificate, with the net result that my classes in adolescent psych, for example, I would get the academic cross-section of students, which was very advantageous. As a result, I assessed that the admissions procedures were, as I say, very praiseworthy. Having taught at a large urban university with classes which were unmercifully large—250, 275, and so on and so forth—this was not only refreshing, but you saw where there was not extraordinary range of ability. It is of the higher level. I was very impressed. And I think was able to maintain this through the transition to the full university status and coeducation, et cetera. I think the Greensboro campus doesn't need to take a backseat to anyone as far as admission is concerned.
AP: Did you see—of course you were here when the university became coed. How did that decision come about, and how did that affect any quality or quantity of students?
DR: Well, it was a slow process, exceedingly slow, because other than the graduate students who were males, the male was seen on campus simply as a date or something of that nature. So it was a very slow process. And I think there was no trauma [chuckles] related to it, and I think it was handled very adroitly. I think—I don't have the perspective in that the graduate classes always had males, pretty much from the beginning. So we saw—of course, these were—the ones that were in my graduate classes were both male and female teachers. Adults, if you please.
AP: Do you think that the coming of coeducation for Woman's College, UNCG, that that was a good thing? Or not a good thing?
DR: Yes, I think it was a good thing. This has been fascinating, Anne, in that my wife is associate dean of one of the few remaining all-female institutions, Salem College [Winston-Salem, North Carolina]. And we keep remarking about this and harkening back to WC and institutions like Meredith College [Raleigh, North Carolina], for example, and some of the others who have stood the test of time. But within the framework of a greater university, perpetuation of the Woman's College, I think, was an impossibility. In other 7
words, it was inevitable. I think, from my standpoint at least, handled very, very adroitly—with much consternation manifested by people in the community and so forth, and particularly strong alumnae, who said, "Oh, over our dead bodies will this be." But I think—we are all creatures of habit and when you break a habit, heightened emotionality evolves, but I think this was handled very adroitly.
AP: I see. And the students were mostly young men and women, coming in, say, at the coed times, was a change in the complexion of the student body—in-state, out-of-state? Did you have a feeling?
DR: Well, it's hard to evaluate. You mentioned the out of state. That's always been a dilemma within the university, the quota system and so forth—how do you arrive at or how do you govern the tuition? So that's always been a rather juicy issue. But I think, as I said already a couple times, that this transition, I think, was handled beautifully basically because of its slowness. It was interesting to see the evolvement of how do we work the dormitory situation? What do we designate as all male? How in thunder do we handle the physical education facilities, et cetera, et cetera? But I think good planning took place; it evolved beautifully.
AP: What about the coming of black students, Afro-American students, to the campus? And when did some of that begin to happen?
DR: Well, right immediately, I think the Graduate School office was the one who noticed it first. And I'll be very frank to say, "Well, what do we use as an admissions instrument? " And who the heads, I think, took place—and the initial black students came in first at the graduate level and not until quite a bit later at the undergraduate level. I think it was handled very well. It was easy for the black experienced teacher that came in to work on the master's program. There were many, and that was handled very effectively. And then, of course when the doctoral programs were initiated, some of our top students were black students. So all of that, I think, happened on this campus very effectively. Of course, the proximity to A&T [North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University, Greensboro, North Carolina]. There was an interesting interplay back and forth from the administration level right on down to the student level. Things became a little bit furry. At one particular time, the Black Panthers [black revolutionary socialist organization active in the United States from 1966 until 1982]were in residence at A&T, visited the campus office often—particularly in one particular situation where the cafeteria workers went on strike here. But that was handled, and I pay tribute to [Reverend James] Jim Allen [campus minister, dean of students, vice chancellor of student affairs], for example, doing a magnificent job of jelling together what could have been a very bitter situation. And Jim Allen, along with [Chancellor James S.] Jim Ferguson at that particular stage, handled that very effectively.
AP: How did Jim Allen handle—what did he do?
DR: When some of the leaders came on campus and began to flex muscles in support of the cafeteria workers who were on strike—I recall, for example, I was chairman of the 8
campus Christian Life Committee at that particular time, and Presbyterian House was in order, and Jim at that particular time had been the campus minister at Presby House. He took them all over to Presby House, fed them, and we had a great mish-mash back and forth discussion-wise, and fortunately the strike was settled. And it smoothed over very effectively. One aside in relation to the dynamics of this whole integration—from the Sit-ins [series of nonviolent protests in Greensboro, North Carolina in 1960 which led to the Woolworth department store chain reversing its policy of racial segregation in the Southern United States] and some of the episodes that A&T—the shootings and whatnot—1968 and 1969, I spent a year on a Fulbright [Fellowship] in New Zealand as a consultant to the Minister of Education.
I had no sooner arrived in Auckland and in Wellington, and people would say, "Tell us about the Sit-ins in Greensboro." I said, "How in the world do you—?" They said, "Well, we get this from the BBC [British Broadcasting Corporation]." Then I linked it up or they linked it up for me: that their problems of integration were no different than ours—with the Maoris [indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand], other than that they were smaller in number. This was a fascinating comparative picture because I hit on the point that—interestingly enough [Professor] Tom Fitzgerald from the anthropology department was there at the same time, even before he knew anything about the university—but the Maori, being the fairest skinned of the Polynesians, we think may have facilitated some of their integration. Although paradoxically right now, they are asserting themselves like never before. So it was a fascinating thing to compare, but their knowledge of what had taken place in Greensboro, their knowledge of what took place in Selma, Alabama [1965 Selma Voting Rights Movement and the Selma to Montgomery marches that originated in the city] was just fascinating. And a plug, if I may add to that, they also knew about Woman's College, they knew Ethel Martus, for example, as a leader in women's physical education. They knew Naomi Albanese as a leader in the field of home economics. And this was astounding to me, yet at the same time, very, very meaningful: that here on the other side of the globe—interesting reputations. Greensboro's reputation is focusing on the integration situation. And then the leadership role that WC was playing in the realm of academia. Of course, this was also when I was over there, the time of the [1968] Democratic National Convention in Chicago, when Mayor [Richard] Daley was—so New Zealanders could not understand the armed police force, et cetera. [Editor's note: anti-Vietnam War protestors and Chicago police clashed violently]
AP: That was an interesting time to be abroad. Good insights there. Going back to, I guess, Dr. Friday's hand, his leading and his Southern gentlemanly demeanor. How did he handle controversy? What did he do when there were controversial times or people or situations, when he came here on campus?
DR: Well, I think he came here not to smooth out any controversies per se. He was a master of reassurance. And that magnificent smile of his. He—when I first came here of course, he was not president; he was an administrator or an executive assistant or something of that nature. And it was fascinating to, particularly through the press, to understand how Bill Friday might enter into the picture as the eventual university president. And everybody was very confident that here is a Southern gentleman with a law degree who probably can 9
handle this very effectively. Stepping into some big shoes, of course. I know when I was first brought in, I had to be taken down to Chapel Hill to be interviewed by the provost and so on, and the president of the university who was then, of course, on federal assignment. This is kind of an interim period. Then Bill Friday came on, and I think we began to see a solidifying of the three campuses, very effectively. The people had confidence in this gentleman. The paradox here is that—of course, Bill has held his age well; his hair is really not white and so forth. But the paradox that he and I looked quite a bit alike back there in the days before the deterioration process set into Russell. And I remember one time, the first year that I came on, he was brought in to address the—our chapter of AAUP [American Association of University Professors], and we were confused. In one situation, he and his wife and my wife and I were in a receiving line, and people had to do a double take. But he weathered the physical appearance well, as my hair whitened, and we no more look alike than the man in the moon right now. [laughs]
AP: That's interesting. When you went to Chapel Hill, what did you think? How did you feel going there for this official interview?
DR: Well, I don't know. I think it was one of those necessary bits of protocol. In other words, at that time anyone who was brought on as a full professor—as I was—had to go through that particular rigmarole because of the tenure situation, and the law was written a little differently then, unfortunately.
AP: Oh, just the thing to do.
DR: That's right. I remember this is before I-40; this is going via Burlington on old [highway] 70. A trip to Chapel Hill and back ruined a day. [laughs] Don’t misinterpret me.
AP: I guess some of the students made that journey a good bit. The road was hot both ways, perhaps.
DR: That’s right. A real sacrifice.
AP: Okay. Well, when he came here then on those visits when you were first here, Dr. Graham was here as leader, and then some of those times got controversial—that's known, I suppose.
DR: Well, there were some factions on campus and so forth, which is true at any institutions, which occasionally get after the hide of the top leader. And that was festering a little bit, but it was—I had seen this happen at a large urban university. And it was a little paradoxical in the smallness of then-WC to see something similar, but not with as much venom spat out and not—no fisticuffs resulting.
AP: Not quite. [chuckles]
DR: But I think that was handled very effectively, as we watched the transition over to [Chancellor] Gordon Blackwell. I was reminiscing, as I often do, with the five chancellors 10
under whom I served, and what a fabulous group of individuals they were, and, thank goodness, they were not all out of the same mold. Very interesting. And then there were two interim chancellors. I can't recall the gentleman's name, but from Chapel Hill who came on.
AP: Not [Otis] Singletary?
DR: Well, in between Blackwell and Singletary, of course, there was an interim chancellor.
AP: Ferguson?
DR: No, this was a gentleman from—
AP: Pearson. Dr. [W. Whatley] Pierson.
DR: Yes, Dr. Pierson. And he was a gem.
AP: After Dr. Graham. It would be interesting to see, to hear your chronology after Dr. Graham here. Then Dr. Pierson, you said, came here from Chapel Hill?
DR: That's right, and once again, a cool Southern gentleman who ran—let those who were in positions of leadership at WC run the Faculty Assembly meetings and so on and so forth. And simply interject in his calm way, so adroitly that the next time there had to be an interim chancellor, we begged Dr. Pierson to come back.
AP: [chuckles] I see.
DR: And he was quite touched, and he enjoyed it. A real prince of a man.
AP: What was his background, his particular field of study or interest? Not that it really matters.
DR: Anne, you've got me there. I can't recall exactly. It was almost immaterial because he was such a smooth—
AP: Maybe training in the diplomatic corps or something. [chuckles]
DR: [chuckles] He was an academician of some note.
AP: No, I'm teasing. So he just watched and listened and looked.
DR: Oh yes. Obviously he had the experience to work very cooperatively with Chapel Hill, with the administrative offices there. And I think that Bill Friday was delighted that Dr. Pierson was the man to do this particular job.
AP: So you served under him. Then, after his first term, Dr. Blackwell? 11
DR: Dr. Gordon Blackwell.
AP: He came in '57?
DR: Again, you know, a fascinating individual to work with, with his own administrative style, which is hard to describe, really. But everybody I think was very pleased with—
AP: How would you characterize his style?
DR: Well, certainly it was an interesting comparison between the—not laid back—but the cool operation of Dr. Pierson, and Dr. Blackwell coming in with a little bit more vibrancy, but thoroughness. Again the memory—it's a difficult thing to pin down the appropriate adjectives to describe his style because he was a tall, rather imposing gentleman which, I think his stature had something to do with the way he maintained control at [Faculty] Assembly meetings. Served on several committees with him and found it—. What was called the Academic Policies Committee was a supposedly powerful—and I served on that committee during Dr. Blackwell's tenure. And I think he handled us very adroitly. But again to find the proper adjectives to describe his style—it's hard. He was thorough, he was—
AP: He was here in '57 until 1960? And then Dr. Pierson came back for about a year in '60?
DR: That's right. And then Otis Singletary hit the campus in a whirlwind.
AP: Oh, how so?
DR: Here you see a total change of style. He was a guy who called a spade a spade. Faculty Assembly meetings were run in a rather interesting changeover type of fashion—very firmly. But a good administrator. He, having come out of Texas and having come out of a very laudatory situation, having been exceedingly popular as a professor and not having had a tremendous amount of top administrative experience. Everybody was sitting back saying, "Well, now how is this boy going to operate?" Well, it didn't take long to realize that he cut through details and sliced off trivia like no one else. And then of course, the federal government began to nose around, and then he moved over to directing the Job Corps [United States government program that provides free education and vocational to youth]. And then he left the campus. Then returned, but left again. It was an interesting study of Otis Singletary. And then—of course after he left here, it was fascinating to watch him at [University of] Kentucky [Lexington, Kentucky]. And I remember he was royally welcomed back when he was keynote speaker at Jim Ferguson's inauguration. But he was an individual with a personality that was decidedly more bombastic than the Southern gentleman.
AP: I see. He made people sort of step around, including faculty.
DR: Ah yes. Ah yes. He stood for no foolishness whatsoever. And, of course, I found it very advantageous for the man to slice through detail and extracted trivia— 12
AP: Did some faculty members resent that style, or have a little trouble with that style, at the least?
DR: I think so. I think so. But he was a politically astute individual. I think any person who occupies a chancellor's chair is vulnerable from all sides and is analyzed like no other individual. As long as institutions are like this are human beings dealing with human beings, it's very natural that there be some rather, an occasional manifestation of consternation or evidences of some uprisings here and there.
AP: That does happen.
DR: Sure. That's what makes an institution work.
AP: Even in higher education.
DR: Ah yes. [laughs] Particularly so.
AP: Perhaps more so than private industry or medicine, who knows? So then after he left here, let's see, who came on?
DR: Then exploration came into the situation—here was the necessity of a search and, nevertheless, Jim Ferguson had appeared on this campus as dean of the Graduate School and made a very impressive appearance, and people fell in love with Jim. And I think this campus got together and said, "Look, we have faith in Jim Ferguson." We were overjoyed, I think, when he was appointed as chancellor. The return to the Southern gentleman was [laughs] very fascinating. And I loved Jim; we became very close.
AP: I see. He was competent and careful, would you say, as well as being a Southern gentleman?
DR: Oh yes, I think people studied him—I keep mentioning the faculty assemblies, but this is where you study the intricacies of a university and its myriad of personalities and so forth—and Jim, being so methodical and very careful the way he spoke. He was not the silver-throated orator by any means, and he realized this. Therefore, I think a lot of us felt he labored over his communication with faculty, but it was that gracious smile and the genuineness of the fellow that said, "Look, we'll work our heads off for this guy."
AP: I see. So he was able to garner cooperation and loyalty?
DR: Yes, most definitely. I think a university, particularly a state-supported institution, looks at the top administrator and says, "How will that person operate in the backrooms of the General Assembly in Raleigh?" And I know that question—well, we don't visualize Jim as parading up and down the same way that Otis Singletary would. But at the same time, he has that Southern understanding and so forth, whatever that is.
AP: That sort of unknown quality. 13
DR: Yes, yes. He certainly—. One aside, and I don't know that all my colleagues that go back a ways would agree with this, but as I recall, the first bit of construction that Jim had to deal with here was the replacement of the McIver Building. The old McIver Building, which was a phenomenon in its own right—almost had to be blasted off its foundation. [AP chuckles.] I understand the wrecking company almost went bankrupt trying to tear that building apart. But the changes in the plans that brought the McIver Building into existence—watching the way in which corners were cut and how offices were narrowed down into cloistered niches, et cetera, and then the filigree that was put on the facade of the front—it immediately became tabbed as Charlie's Bar and Grill, rather than the McIver Building. And we used to kid Jim a little bit about this, and "Well, your first bit of construction was rather interesting." [laughs] Well, those who have had offices for years in McIver Building may have different attitudes, but those of us across campus viewed that with great interest.
AP: It seems that you did.
[End Side A—Begin Side B]
DR: You asked, for example, when coeducation took place here. I lost that particular date—
AP: What, '62, '63, when coeducation came in. Three decades do race by quite fast. And you were explaining about the different administrations. How—what are your perceptions of change in the faculty over time—say, from 1955 going roughly to '60 or to '65? You're smiling. Can you comment on changes in faculty?
DR: Ah, yes. I think I have to say when we first came on, of course, that the percentage of women on the faculty far outweighed the male members in number. Well, it's difficult, and I could put my head in a noose here by indicating that certain—. You began to see, I think, younger scholars coming into the faculty now. Now I can't justify, can’t really document this; this is kind of a gut feeling. Also, stipulations relative to—I don't want to drag in the "publish-or-perish" bit here—but things becoming a little bit more stringent. Fortunately, I had done adequate publishing and had gone up the ladder before I came here. But I sometimes look at it—if I came in now, I don't know how it would be. So gradually there was a tremendous emphasis on this. The emphasis on promotion and tenure became very highly objectified, as of course it is now. And a little bit—originally at WC there was more give-and-take in the evaluation of a person for promotion for the simple reason of the compactness in numbers. When you get into the size of our institution now, obviously it has to be pretty effectively objectified—you need to document much more.
AP: Codified.
DR: Exactly. That's right. That's right.
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AP: When you came here, you mentioned women teachers, women scholars, who were here when you came, how would you characterize some of those women and who were some of the leading women scholars here or teachers in the '50s?
DR: Well, I've mentioned Miss Jane Summerell for example, who was a Chaucer scholar, and the role that she played in this institution—her personality, her grace. I also earlier mentioned Ethel Martus, who became the dean of the Department of Physical Education, which is now a multifarious School, of course. But the impact and the money that she commanded—federal and the backing that she had—and where she put physical education for women on the map. This was where the top people came. And, in a way, she attracted her faculty. Of course, many of the academicians would not regard that as a scholarly realm in the true sense of the word, but she made it a specialty—well, I gave this example of her being recognized on the other side of the planet.
AP: That's pretty good recognition. All the way to Australia.
DR: I'm trying to remember—names elude me. One lady in the School of Home Economics who was world—
AP: You mentioned Dr. Albanese. But others—
DR: Well, this predates her. And I apologize for not being able to recall those—
AP: Was there a Dr. Edwards somewhere? Sorry, that's okay.
DR: I'm lost on the—. But the contributions made by those individuals were phenomenal. Then, of course, you mentioned the top women scholars and so forth, and here again I'm having difficulty because they become overshadowed by, well, Randall Jarrell [American poet, literary critic, children's author, essayist, novelist, and the 11th Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, a position that now bears the title Poet Laureate] for example—the male element comes in here. I’m lost for names. When one retires—my neighbor says it's a rotting process—in other words, when you get out of touch, and you begin to hearken back and so forth, some people say, well, I don't know, is this Alzheimer's [Disease]? [laughs] Or just lack of proximity?
AP: It’s your prerogative, I’m sure. Well, in the '50s and in the '60s, in terms of faculty, things began to change some or into the seventies. Again, I don't know whether you can characterize the—
DR: Well, the minute the numbers grow, it's difficult to indicate what, on an overview basis, what changes took place. There was the growing push toward this institution becoming more of a research institution. It has reached a particular peak now. Some say almost a ruthless peak. But that's not it. But the future studies which have taken place within the last five or six years aim at—this is a top research institution, which takes a lot of, pardon the expression, gall, to say that you immediately elevate yourself to a Stanford [University, Palo Alto, California] or a Princeton [University, Princeton, New Jersey] or 15
something of that nature.
AP: Or a Chapel Hill.
DR: I think traditionally in this institution they have not worried so much about what prestige Chapel Hill has because of the competitiveness involved. It's an interesting phenomenon. They would rather compare their surge toward being a research institution to Stanford, MIT [Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts], Princeton, and what have you, and say we prefer not to refer to Chapel Hill. [laughs]
AP: I see. Talk about arrogance. Well, I have the feeling that the early women who taught here, or in earlier times, even before the 1950s—that they were women in their own right, teachers in their own right, scholars. And that they were not that much concerned about what was going on at [North Carolina] State [University, Raleigh, North Carolina] or Chapel Hill, that they were content with their lives here and really pleased—and their specialties—
DR: And their particular disciplines on the national level. I'm thinking of [Professor Elizabeth] Polly Duffy, for example, in psychology, who was recognized nationally in her field, but did her own thing and taught her classes in her inimitable way—a real personage in the true sense of the word. And I'm sure as soon as I leave here, I'll think of a half a dozen other ladies who were just outstanding. It's difficult to recall.
AP: But she may not have been comparing herself or this institution to Chapel Hill or anyplace.
DR: Or chose not to. We used to have a very interesting intermingling with the three campuses once a year. We would rotate in hosting—this was a fascinating experience. We are rather small, but nevertheless you got inherently the feeling that, "Okay, we are the good old WC, that little sister over there in Greensboro." We couldn't help but get this.
AP: A self-perception or was this an imposed judgment?
DR: No, I think—of course, it could be an insecurity maybe, saying, "Well, I don't know, we're not as big as you are; we don't have some of the names that you have. We wind up number third when the General Assembly comes out in delegating funds and whatnot." I don't know. It's still there. It's still there. I sense it when I go to [University of North Carolina at] Charlotte. I sense it when I go to Appalachian [State University, Boone, North Carolina] or East Carolina [University, Greenville, North Carolina]. They begin to talk in numbers.
AP: This jockeying for position.
DR: Oh yes. I think one of the most fascinating things is to watch the burgeoning of the Charlotte campus, who have their sights very definitely set on being the branch, regardless of tradition. Which is great. [unclear] state-supported. 16
AP: [laughs] Yes.
[End of Interview]