Professor Larry Salomon stands before a class of more than a hundred in a muggy, cramped hall on the eastern edge of campus. He speaks in a distinct authoritative, yet welcoming demeanor as he describes the course of study his ethnic studies students will be following this semester. The room is as ethnically diverse as the people outlined in the thick course reader, and for the next few months, the group will have the opportunity to learn about something that students of an earlier generation had to fight for— their own culture.
That fight officially began on November 6, 1968, when national news attention was cast on SF State, monitoring what, day-in and day-out, would become the longest student-led strike in American history. The numerous causes leading up to the strike all mirrored the racial boiling point that was reaching cities across the country.
Martin Luther King, Jr. had been assassinated months earlier, and the Vietnam War and draft were becoming increasingly controversial. Civil rights were at the forefront of national discussion, and popular culture was reinventing itself. It was a time of change as a generation of Baby Boomers flooded college campuses, politically charging many for the first time.
“It was actually very exciting. There was a pulse and a passion,” says Laureen Chew, Associate Dean of the Ethnic Studies College. Chew was an education student when the strike occurred, and she returned to SF State in 1978. “There was an optimistic feeling that we could make some serious changes.”
"It was one of the most memorable and important experiences of my college career," says Tony Modica, who was studying sociology at SF State when the strike began. "Everything we were learning in class turned into a reality."
Students began boycotting class that day in November and presented a list of 15 demands to administration, the most significant and innovative of which was the adoption of an ethnic studies college, aimed at studying the culture and history of minority students. Students of color realized that their culture and contributions to American history weren't being recognized in higher education—that only white achievements were stressed.
“We believed race and ethnicity needed a place in higher education,” says Chew. “Back then, it wasn’t really included in the curriculum.”
Forty years ago, such a course of study was revolutionary.
Higher education was reserved mainly for the financially elite, and the courses taught in colleges across the country mirrored that fact. Academic access was far from what it is today, and one of the successes of the strike was national discourse about access and cultural relevance within the educational system that it produced.
"We had everybody talking," said Chew.
Protestors weren’t surprised when administrators ignored their demands and continued classes. With tension running high on campus, confrontations between protestors and police officers were common. Large groups were arrested on multiple occasions, usually for failure to disperse and illegal assembly. Chew was involved in a similar group arrest with about 400 other protestors.
"Up until that moment I thought the media told the truth," says Chew, recalling the one-sided news coverage broadcast on all but one Bay Area television news provider. Though several stations interviewed students involved in the protest, their main account of what happened on campus that day came from a Sheriff spokesman who distorted many of the details.
"It made me very angry,” says Chew.
Modica has a similar story from the opening days of the strike when students threatened to take over the economy building on campus. As a crowd grew, orders came over the school loudspeaker to disperse.
"Then the ground shook," Modica remembers, "And from every opening in the quad came fully armored policemen."
The officers surrounded some of the leaders of the demonstration and began beating them, according to Modica. He turned to an officer and asked him if the police planned to arrest the leaders of the event or kill them. The officer responded by striking Modica several times with a billy club, cutting his head.
"My whole coat was covered in blood," he recalls. Friends grabbed him and took him out of the quad and eventually to a hospital where he got stitches. "That was a day I'll always remember."
Similar stories of struggle united students in the strike. Their various cultural backgrounds were a symbol of the ethnic studies college they wanted to create. Many formed relationships across racial and social lines for the first time. Members of the Third World Liberation Front made alliances with the Black Student Union, Students for a Democratic Society and other student organizations.
“Most of the students were in between,” remembers Dan Gonzales, an international relations student at the time who has taught Asian American studies at SF State since 1969. He estimates that between 20 to 30 percent of students actively supported the strike, and many others were sympathetic but simply wanted to graduate. “That was one of the things that really soured me,” he says.
“When I look back, I didn’t know how much of an honor it was (to be working with them),” says Gonzales about the faculty on campus at the time. He says many professors welcomed students into their homes to discuss politics and activist strategy. “It was a moment in time that was a catalyst for a lot of relationships.”
For Chew, it was an awakening experience to see so many other students who had been affected by racism. Students of all backgrounds shared their experiences of discrimination, whether personal or within the educational system.
“What I never understood was the racism that I experienced in high school…I was very hurt,” says Chew. “I felt like I was isolated until I saw this [gathering of students].”
Although it was the most publicized, the strike wasn't the first time that questionns of racial equality had been raised in San Francisco. Students from City College of San Francisco and UC Berkley joined SF State students in 1960 when Joseph McCarthy and the House on Un-American Activities Committee came to San Francisco. The students protested on the steps of City Hall, making national headlines when they were dispersed with high-pressure hoses.
Seeds of the civil rights movement were planted five years earlier too, when Congress of Racial Equality activists tackled employment issues in the Bay Area. Led by SF State Africana studies professor Oba T’Shaka, successful strikes were completed at Lucky's market, Macy’s, and other employers in San Francisco, leading to hundreds of job agreements for African-American workers.
But relatively speaking to the rest of the country, and particularly in the south where Jim Crow segregation was still visible, racial tensions in San Francisco were less apparent.
“There was an illusion of equality here because there were less racial laws…racism was more institutionalized,” says Larry Salomon, who has taught ethnic studies since 1994. “There were institutional barriers, not physical ones.”
But if racial tensions were comparatively low in San Francisco, why did such a powerful student strike occur here instead of somewhere else? The answer had more to do with a combination of factors rather than just the racist atmosphere within the city.
“It was a convergence of factors,” says Salomon, speaking of the huge ethnic mix within the Bay Area and its history of activism. “But the biggest reason was the Master Plan.”
Introduced in 1960, the California Master Plan was a reaction to the surge in college enrollment within the Baby Boom generation. Its goal was to accommodate the growing need for education by designating a certain percentage of high school students for each of its three tiers, the UC, CSU, and City College. Since students of color largely attended less funded, poorer schools, they weren’t considered for better universities. For example, in 1960, the percentage of African-American students at SF State was about 12 percent, mirroring the 13 to 14 percent that lived in the city. But eight years later, that number had dropped to three percent.
“Lots of students weren’t eligible [for UCs or CSUs] anymore. Basically they were being pushed out,” says Salomon. Community Colleges saw an increase in African-American and Latino students, but many gave up on the idea of a college education all together. “The ironic thing is that it made it harder for lots of kids to get an education.”
Many of the African-American students that did make it to SF State identified with the Black Panther Party, which was stirring national controversy. George Murray, an active member in the Black Panthers, was also an English teacher at SF State.
Murray gave several controversial speeches, one at Fresno State and another at San Jose State, where he made critical statements of whites in the U.S., including SF State’s administration. Bay Area papers wrote that he had encouraged students to bring weapons to school, a statement he denied saying, and his open connection with the Black Panthers made him an easy target for criticism. Administration suspended Murray after the papers went public, a move that put many students over the edge.
“I think he was a catalyst,” says Salomon, who mentioned that the strike would have likely occurred with or without him. “He was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
A new school president was brought in during the strike that would later become a U.S. Senator. S.I. Hayakawa was seen by many students as an identifiable enemy, and he was never afraid to call in police when he felt the protests had crossed the line. The campus had been closed a week into the strike due to the tense atmosphere, but when Hayakawa was appointed in late November, he continued classes as scheduled.
"I thought he was crazy," said Chew, who was present when Hayakawa stormed onto a car mounted with an audio system and yanked out its chords before making an impromptu speech. The image made its way to front pages across the country and Hayakawa was seen as a hard lined authoritarian. "Every time I saw him he was angry. It seemed like he was brought in to stop us."
After five long months of confrontation and constant media attention, administration gave into student demands and approved a plan for the development of the first ethnic studies college in the nation. Students claimed an overwhelming victory, in which they had input on the curriculum and the faculty hired within the college. Today, it is one aspect that attracts students to SF State from across the country.
“This College of Ethnic Studies is the only one in the nation,” says Chew. Ethnic studies classes and departments are common among American Universities, but they are offered within another college. The four majors within the ethnic studies college, Asian-American, American-Indian, Africana, and Raza Studies, are only available at SF State.
“This makes us unique,” says Chew.
To commemorate the 40th anniversary of the student strike, organizers have been working to plan a yearlong series of events that will bring together all departments within the university.
“We’re creating an opportunity for open discussion,” says Christine Harris, a relations officer with the Ethnic Studies College who is helping plan the celebration. She said that the goal is to create a dialogue among all the other departments across campus about social justice issues. “It’s really going to touch all parts of the university,” says Harris.
Next October there will be a convocation beginning the yearlong celebration, and a year later, a similar convocation will celebrate the Ethnic Studies Department itself. Throughout the year there will be panel discussions, art presentations, speakers and other events. Student organizations will also be featured, and according to Harris, an inter-generational dialogue will be established. “It will be bringing together people of all movements."
Celebration planned for Strike Anniversary .
With the 40th anniversary of the strike approaching, organizers have been working to plan a yearlong series of events that will bring together all departments within the university.
Next October there will be a convocation to celebrate the strike itself, beginning a year long celebration that will feature panel discussions, art presentations, speakers and other events to commemorate the strike. A year later, there will be a similar celebration to acknowledge the ethnic studies college, its accomplishments over the last forty years and its place within the university.
“It will be bringing together people of all movements," says Christine Harris, a relations official with the ethnic studies college. She says that student organizations will also be featured throughout the year, and that they will be seeking to establish an inter-generational dialogue between students and people who were on campus when the strike occurred.
“We’re creating an opportunity for open discussion,” says Harris, who is planning the celebration in part with Dean of Ethnic Studies Kenneth Monteiro. She said that the goal is to create a dialogue among all the other departments across campus about social justice issues.
"We're really going to look at the intersection of social justice (among other departments on campus)...It’s really going to touch all parts of the university.”
