Volume 21 - Issue 4

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HAIRCUTTING • COLOURING • WAVING DesignConsultations For Contemporary Gentlemen

Publisher M ary Chen Editor-in-Chief Martha Bran t Business Manager Laura Smith • Managing Editors Skye W ilson Peter Zusi Kirk Semple• • Designer Pamela Geismar Production Manager D avid K ing Photography Editor H eidi Schulman

Accounu Manager Jodi Lox• Associate Editors Cynthia Cameros · J ohn Gill Associate Designer Stephen H ooper Associate Photography Editor John Kim CirculaJion Manager Lynn Festa Subscnptwn Manager M alaika Amon

Staff Stefanic Syman • Janet Chung• H ank H su• Ethan Cohen Ruth ConniW Motoko R ich Margo Schlanger• Jennifer Fleissner L isa Silverman • L isa G luskin • .Jeanne Frantz• J aeyong So David Greenberg• Florence W illiams• Jamie Workman J ulie H antman •ntctnl }niUIT'f 19. 19119 • • lttlmrrt 1fWit(t(llf._f tt/LIDT

Mmr/Krs and Directors: Edward B. Bennell Il l • Constance Clemenl - Peter B. Cooper • Andy Court • Brooks Kelley • Michelle Press • Fred Strebeigh • Thomas Strong

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About This Issue

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NewsJournal

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H orses fight crime . . . Books mark time . . . Campers enjoy sunshine

Between the Vines

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T est of Faith Ben Born Again:r booldet ¡can help you receive Christ through an easy-tojollow four-step plan. If you go to Potter's House Christian Center in Bridgeport, however, you will find that believing is far more complicated than you had irruJgined. By Megan Chambers ;

Features

14

Old School Ties These days, the Turkish Bath and rarefied atmosphere of the Yale Club of New York draw more recent graduates than ever. Fresh out of college, some new members find the older, more traditional environment of the club appÂŤZiing- but others find it troublesome.

By Peter Zusi

20

In The Rough Many of New Haven:r youths at risk have never been rock climbing, hiking, cr canoeing. The Wilderness School offers juvenile delinquents 20 days in the backwoqd.s of Connecticut to try these activities and to find a straighter path. By Florence Williams

Profile

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A D ram atic Lea d Since 1978, Dean Lloyd Richards has increased minority enrollment at the Yale Drama School and opened the stage of the Yale Rep to black thea/n. By Margo Schlanger

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The New JoumaVFebruary 3, 1989 3

About This Issue

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We here at The New Journal like words. But because we don't want to alienate our readers, we rarely get the opportunity to flex our lexical muscles. So to begin without cunctation , let usjaire un tour with verbid vigor. This issue of TN] takes us to Bridgeport, Goshen, New York and back. Megan Chamber's Test of Faith sends u s to Potter's House Christian Center, where we confront kerygma face to face. Wi.th In The Rough by Florence Williams, we go to the Wilderness School, ... where youths at risk become teenagers with conation. And in Peter Zusi's Old School Ties, we visit the Yale Club and question the notion that it is just a klatch of nudnicks.

TNJ doesn't subscribe to any particular weltansicht, but rather hopes to present polysemous views. An undergraduate magazine coverin g Yale and New Haven , TN] comes out six times a year . We distribute 11,000 copies free throughout campus. Our contents range from short news stories to in-depth research articles and from opinion pieces to book reviews.

We would like to see your input in the magazine. We are looking for photographers, designers, salespeople, and writers. If you are interested call our office at 432-1957. We trust that you will not find us gormless. But just in case, TNJ encourages letters to the editor. Write to Martha Brant, Editorials, 686 Yale Station, New Haven, CT • 06520

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918 Whalley Ave. , 397-8162

4 The New Journal/February 3, 1989

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News Journal

A Tight Reign

When violence erupted during a rap concert at the New Haven Coliseum a year-and-a-half ago, two of the city's mo unted police officers, Sergeant Ed Clou gh and Officer Marvin Marable, .-ealized they would need help. They rad ioed two colleagues to assist them as 4,000 fans .spilled into the streets. The 50 foot-patrol officers on duty were unable to break up the throng, but rid ing side-by-side, the four horse patrolmen split and d ispersed the crowd within five minutes.

T his incident proved the effectiveness of the New Haven Mounted U n it (NH MU), which was founded in 1983 to complement the police

department's foot and car patrol divisions; the horse patrol was the first of its kind in Connecticut. At present, the unit consists of seven horses and six men and is based in a converted eight-car garage in Edgerton Park off of Whitney Avenue.

The horse unit provides a visibility and mobility that car and foot patrols lack. "A purse snatcher, seeing an officer on horseback, will think twice about committing a crime," explained Marable, the first policeman to join the NHMU. "Most of the kids run like deers out there, and without a horse I couldn't run them down." Hor ses also enable police to patrol parks and woods on thc;ir own. But in the city, if a criminal ducks into a building or takes off in a car, the mounted police will call for auto and foot assistance.

Beyond their regular beats, the mounted police are indispensible for crowd control. Whenever the police

department expects a large crowd, it sends the horses into action. Among other events, the NHMU patrols football games at the Yale Bowl and concerts on the New Haven Green.

Two mounted patrols were assigned to the Yale campus during the labor union strikes in 1984, and a horse p atrol unit accompanied Governor Michael D ukakis at his Wooster Street rally last fall.

This schedule tests the stamina and skills of horse and rider. Both must undergo a rigorous training program to join the unit. Officers in the police force may apply to the NHMU only after two years of regular duty. I f accepted, they must learn skills such as maneuvering through rush hour traffic and shooting at targets from the back of a cantering horse.

Although the first members of the NHMU trained in New York, recruits today complete most of their

The New Haven mounted police have to put up with city noises and dirty stalls .

The New Journal/ February 3, 1989 5

training in New Haven.

The officers usually pass this course in two months, but their horses' training never ends. Conditioning for the horses begins on an obstacle course in Edgerton Park and continues in the city's quieter neighborhoods. The horses eventually patrol a beat downtown where they must confront the noises and distraction s of the city.

The N HMU, recognizing the strain put on the horses, continually monitors the fitness and health of its animals.

But despite this care, some horses have become ill or uncontrollable. "Quite a few horses just aren't suited for life in the city," said Clough, the head of the division. "I don't take Appaloosas and Thoroughbreds anymore. They're all a little too crazy. I find we're having our best luck with Quarter Horses and Saddlebreds."

Last October the NHMU had an opportunity to test its mettle in the fifth annual Police Equestrian Competition in Washington, D.C. The New Haven Police Department sent four officers and their horses to compete against 74 other mounted police, including representatives from the FBI, the U.S. Army, and the Secret Service, who rode the President's horses. In one series of tests, the riders had to keep their mounts within a 4 ft. by 8 ft. chalked rectangle while judges operated jackhammers and chainsaws, lit flares, and jumped out of sleeping bags. Competitors acquired penalty points if their horses shied beyond the rectangle's boundaries. New Haven's unit won second place behind the team from the National Park Service, which owns over 3,000 horses.

On more typical days, NHMU offi. cers must clean the riding equipment, horses, and stables. "You really have to like horses. There's a lot of work involved and you spend a lot of time with them," explained Officer Robert Peryer. "There's no regrets in this barn." Peryer latched his horse's stall door and dragged away a full manure bucket.

â&#x20AC;˘-Heidi McKee

6 The New Journal/February 3, 1989

For 50 years Reverdy Whitlock (YC '35) has sold rare and used books.

On Reserve

A student reading the Yale Daily News in the early part of the century may not have noticed the small announcements stating that "The Smartest Dressers are Wearing Monocles Now" and that Fatima Cigarettes are "The Secret of Good Batting." Yet he was sure to have seen the full-page advertisements for Whitlock's bookstore. One, addressed to the entering class of 1913, read, "Start Right. We Have All The Books You Need.

Ask Any Upperclassman- He'll Direct You To Us. Although many Yalies who walk into Whitlock's for the first time are usually looking for Kinko's Copy Center located next door, the bookstore once supplied textbooks for approximately 90 ¡percent of Yale's students. In 1900, Clifford Whitlock founded the store in a small brick building on the site of the Skull and Bones tomb. Its limited collection left enough room for h im to run a bicycle repair business. But by the First World War, the store's stock had grown to over 100,000 volumes, forcing Clifford to close the bicycle shop and concentrate on the book trade.

"Perhaps [the community] found in my father some of those things that had been recommended in the infant colonies, such as the work ethic 'early to bed and early to rise."' suggests Clifford's son, Reverdy (YC '35). who

has managed the store for over 50 years. Clifford became popular with Yale students and faculty, and he often hosted games of chess and checkers lasting well into the night.

When Reverdy took over the store in the Thirties, Whitlock's relationship with the University had begun to sour.

Many students buying on credit were neglecting to pay their bills. As the problem worsened, Reverdy decided to stop stocking textbooks. He eventually broke off his business relations with Yale and moved the bookstore to its present site in two second-floor rooms on Broadway.

Today, Whitlock's is smaller and .. quieter than it once was, specializing in antiquarian and used books. "We got more casual visitors when we were on the first floor," Reverdy says.

"People aren't likely to come upstairs unless they have a genuine interest in books." Because many of Whitlock's customers are looking for rare volumes, Reverdy must hunt continually for additions to his collection. His quests often take him to Britain.

During a recent search in Bath, Reverdy stumbled upon a 1666 edition of the London Almanac. It had belonged to the English diaristjohn Evelyn, who provided the best contemporary account of the Great Fire of London., Evelyn had made notes in the margins of the Almanac as he walked through the burning city. Reverdy bought the book for three pounds and later sold it to Harvard University, earning him-

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self enough money for another trip to England.

R everdy values a book's aesthetics in add ition to its historical novelty and literary merit. For him , a good book comes out of the marriage of a masterful p r inter and a skillful binder.

Talking to a prospective customer about an early edition of a Dickens novel, Reverdy describes the volume as if it were alive. "It's pages are firm, and the binding is tight," he says. "'there was a slight crack in the cover skin, but it's been healed." Reverdy believes that the cover of a book protects and preserves the spirit of its writer. "Some writers put their soul in their books," Reverdy says , "and some expose the souls of others."

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-Paul Taylor

Home Repair The m orning after Christmas, 56 children from Waterbury, Connecticut quietly climbed out of several vans onto the campus of a local college. They were between the ages of seven and twelve; most were white, the rdt either black or Latino. Many of the campers. who would spend the next five days tog(!ther, did not yet know one another. but all had alread y shared one experience: They had been abused by their parents.

J oan ( Kaufman (GRD '90), a fifthyear psychology graduate student, designed Camp Winterfest to measure the effect of parental abuse and neglect on children's development. With the results of her study, she will recommend specific changes in the state services for maltreated children. The idea for the study became a reality when K aufman won a $90 ,000 grant from the Smith-Richardson Foundanbn. T his award was the largest that any psychology graduate student at Yale had ever received. K aufman got Started right away. Two months before the camp, she advertised at Yale for 12

assistant counselors. The state's Department of Children and Youth Services (DCYS) referred families to the camp.

Early in the first day, the campers divided into groups by age and proceeded to their scheduled classes in cooking, art, gym, and music. For one to two hours during the day Kaufman adminstered tests to deter mine each child's. emotional, psychological, and intellectual development. She asked questions like, "Do you have a lot of friends?" and "Do you ever think of hurting yourself?" Kaufman also tried to observe their natural behavior in play situations. But according to assistant· counselor Pramil Singh (BR '91), "Ultimately her goal was that the kids have fun. If any of the experimental aspects were disruptive, then she wanted us to forget it."

That wasn't necessary. Singh found that the children _actually enjoyed taking the tests. But the work was still serious. To ensure that her assistants didn't influence the ~· resu l ts with any preconception s, she led the counselors to believe that only half the children had been maltreated and the others were part of a control group. To add depth to her study, Kaufman interviewed the children's parents and teachers; she also consulted their medical records.

K aufman will have finished analyzing the information by April. Until then, she hesitates to make any definite conclusions. She does, however, affirm that the children in the program are at least one to two years behind academically. Although all the tests were designed for an eight-year-old's level of comprehension, Charles Henrickson (SY '91), an assistant counselor in charge of the 11-and 12-year-old boys, found that many of his counselees had trouble reading and understanding the questions. Once Kaufman completes her report, she will be able to help state officials improve programs for these children. But for now, they have returned home.

•-Andrea Assarat

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Between the Vines/Megan Chambers

Test of Faith

It seems so easy to become a Born your way. This young, black exAgain Christian, so very easy. Just leaf serviceman crouches down to your through the booklet, Ben Born Again's eye level and tells you about the New Believer's Growth Book. Complete greatest change in his life, his with cartoon illustrations, it outlines acceptance of Christ. He starts by everything you need to know. telling you about his life before: seven YOU NEED TO DO FOUR · years in the army, a college degree in THINGS TO RECEIVE CHRIST: chemistry, ego, pride, neglect of his wife and kids, hatred of white people, black people, Puerto Ricans. Then his life after: love, a relationship with Jesus, letting Jesus into his heart. He points to his six-year-old leaping on the grass to explain how Jesus helped him accept the world he had hated. When Troy tells his son "no more cake," the boy asks, "Why?" But he has to accept his father's authority on the subject, just as Troy must accept God's authority and trust that He knows what's best.

While you just take it easy, listening ( 1) ADMITy our spiritual need. That's and nodding, Troy starts to read to simple enough. You might not even you from the Kingjames Bible, glancing know you've done it. Just saunter up periodically with his solemn eyes to · down the block to the New Haven catch your expression. He reads from Green one Saturday afternoon. There, the Gospel according to John and then following the last strains of an Evan- says, "When that Word shot out of His gelical rock band , a voice lures you to mouth , it had to be at the speed of the grandstand with its scintillating light, right? Scientists have found that cry, "This is the generation of it's still expanding." And maybe Troy's fornication." And just by sitting down talking a little over your head, but if to listen , you've admitted some that statement doesn't pique your need- at least according to Troy, who curiosity , what would? So when it's comes right up to you, no last name, time to go, you accept the card Troy just a regular guy there to help you on thrusts into your hand and rf:ad the 8 Th e New j ournal/ February 3 . 1989

wo rds "P otter House Christia n Center, !;erv ices Sunday at 5:30." And Troy tells you, "Call me if you ever need a ride or anything."

So why not .go, just to see? Why not go right to the source? Which in this case means driving on a Sunday evening to Bridgeport, half an hour away. Young mothers greet you on the low, cement porch, keeping an eye on the children as they toddle about the parking lot in front of the one-room building- someone says it used to be a pizza parlor. And there you are, ·telling< them you came because you met Troy yesterday in the park, implying that you are there to:

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(2) REPENT and be willing to turn from your sins, which seems easy enough, with the women on the porch welcoming you so warmly, telling you their names, informing you that Troy's

About 50 voices challenge1 organ, drum, and guitar, and â&#x20AC;˘ hundred elbows jerk rhythmically in and out, clapping with the beat. probably inside praym g. They ask you about the Green-did you hear the bands and have you ever heard music like that before in your life? But that question isn't so easy to a nswer because you don't know what to say. The music had sounded pretty mediocre to you; still, you don't want to be rude. So you just keep quiet and find that soon they're letting you inside.

Inside the house people make you feel right at home. A large, balding, white man dressed in a watery-gray ~it sees you at once a nd com es over, just trying to be he lpful. While he starts in on the story o f his conve rsion you can't help taking a quick look around, taking in the white walls and brightly lacquered wooden rafters, the 60-or-so folding chairs arranged facing !he pulpit. A young Latino couple sits Jn the front row. The mother, maybe ~0 years old, holds a grimacing baby Jn one arm, its bottle resting by her foot. The balding, white man points to a map dotted with little red spots that mark Born Agatn con gregation s around the world. H e mentions that their regular pastor has gone to the Philippines for a few weeks to spread ~e Good News. On a large screen hanging from the rafters behind him , You see the lyrics to the first song of the ~rvice appearing first reversed, then nght-side-up. ' In the o pposite corne r You spot Troy picking up one of two

electric guitars leaning beside a large drum set.

T hen on some familiar cue the balding man ushers you to a c h air, and the whole place explodes into movement and sound. About 50 voices challen ge organ, drum , and guitar , and a hundred elbows jerk rhythmically in and out , clapping with the beat. Swept up in their en e rgy , you clap along. From all sides, people smile at you, and you smile back. A tiny girl with straight, dark hair and wide-open eyes sits extremely upright a nd claps with sheer excitement . She looks at you gaily and you smile broadly, hoping she won't notice that you're just pretending. And soon you don 't have time to think - about sin or repentance or looking like you belong- because things start happening. The instruments drop o ut and the congregatio n r ises. The clapping builds and builds until it bursts into hands reaching toward the heavens a nd voices exhorting and exulting and then melts into a second volley of claps, propelling the gesticulating mass through another cycle of prayer . While doing your part with an occasional clap, clap you attempt to decipher the cries: "Praise Jesus," "Praise God," "Hail Jesus.â&#x20AC;˘ A man behind you calls out in syllables you've never heard, and you realize he must be speaking in tongues. Through the waving arms, you glimpse Tro}'

All illustrations by R ex Morache, Bm Born Again's N~w B~li~ver's Growth Book, Harvest Ministries, 1985.

D esign by Stephen Hooper.

The New J ournal/February 3, 1989 9

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rocking back and forth in a chair by the pulpit, his face completely covered;.n his hands. Is he crying, you wonder' You can't really tell.

One man after another rises to the pulpit. A singing man yields to a speaking man who reads from Re\·· elations, telling you about the lift hereafter, about how "we're not goinf to have to live in this city, in all th~ trash, forever." You remember the piles of beat-up furniture an:! scattered garbage you passed on your search fot the house. The speaking man yields t• a young man with a flabby fnce , fred les. and freckle-colored hair. YIJIJ recognize him from before the service as the visiting pastor who just got the calling three years ago at the age of l~ The balding man tOld you that th~ pastor has come to perform a healin~ But for now you have to sit through h~ sermon on Faith. which becomes Rtd H ot Faith , which becomes Red Ho!

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. Burning Faith, until finally the t con gregation shouts "Amen!" and voices start caJling out. To catch your b reath, you bury your face and wait.

Everyone lines up at the front of the room. Some stand squared, their arms outstretched in a d ivine embrace.

O thers k neel on the rug in a kowtow of prayer. You stay in your chair.

One of the young women you met on the porch earlier, Debbie, notice s that you're hanging back and app roaches you. She sits beside you and starts to tell you how she was raised b y her g randmother as a ch urch-going Cath olic. You wonder why she's telling you this, and then you remember Ben Born Again's four-part p lan. Debbie ~ m u st be here to help you: (3) BEL IEVE that Jesus Christ diedfor you on the cross. "D o you," D ebbie asks, "accept J esus. Christ as your personal savior ?" She's look ing at you so earnestly. You avert your eyes and d ecide

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12 The New Journal/ February 3 , 1989

to play dumb. You stammer. You act" bewildered. Still, she persists, her voice full of concern. "Do you believe that jesus Christ died for you?" Feeling panicked, you say nothing. Maybe, you think , you could just skip number three and go on to (4) RECEIVE, through prayer, Jesus Christ into your heart and life. You examine the mass of swaying backs at the front of the room and try to imagine yourself up there. Debbie is waiting for your answer. Eventually she suggests , "You could go up and pray, I guess." You hear the doubt in her voice and steal a quick look at her face, just a glance. Barely, just barely, your eyes brush hers. It is enough. "I guess . . . " she says slowly, shocked by the realization, "I guess you can't pray if you don't believe."

He"· face looks crushed, crumpled

with disappoin_tme11t, the way you thought only a child could look. You want to apologize, to tell her that really you are a believer. You want to explain that when "you first met Troy, you thought, "Yeah, I can relate." Because you, too, have rc.ad the Gospel according to John, and you know that the term "Word" derives from the Greek logos, meaning both word and reason. You even underlined it in a book. You want to tell her that you grew up sharing her Judeo·Christian values and that some of the teach i ng~ of the New Testament hold personal meaning for you. You want to tell her that it's only a matter of time.

But it's no use. Debbie looks at you, and you look back, and neither of you can say anything to make the other feel any better. And this, you think, is really more than you can take. This is

It's not easy to transcend all the 'cynicism and defenses of adulthood, and believe. so much more than you expected. You were just curious, and now you've gone and ruined things. You feel that you are to blame, and you don't want to feel that way at all.

And now you get angry. Because whose fault is this situation anyway?

After all, you..didn't ask this misguided woman to sit sorrowfully beside you, mourning for your soul. You look once again at Debbie's crushed Ping-Pongball face, and your anger peaks. You aren't going to take responsibility for ~someone so fragile. And what about all the others, with their upturned faces, innocent as the day they were born?

Then you remember a passage you once learned. "Suffer the little children to come unto me," you recite to yourself. "Of such is the kingdom of God." And suddenly, you think you understand the whole problem. This whole

thing, this whole Born Again thing, is about childhood: cake you give up without asking why, undiscriminating friendliness to total strangers, the clapping and singing and carrying on right down to that cartoon booklet.

But then you ta~ a moment to calm down. They're a funny sort of children- children who have lived adult lives. They read newspapers; they fill out tax returns. Some of them might be alcoholics. Some of the women might have been raped. And still they can raise up their hands to heaven, and still they can smile, and still they can pray. As simple as it seems, this Born Again stuff isn't easy at all. It's not easy to transcend all the cynicism and defenses of adulthood, and believe.

And now, more than ever, you know you would never be able to do it. You

would never be able to summon up that second innocence. Amid your questions and your doubts you could never fit in such absolute belief. And isn't it funny that what you learned at the Potter's House Christian Center is not how much you do believe but how much you don't?

You feel exhausted, wiped out, as if you had spent these two-and-a-half hours in tears. As you head for the door, hands reach out to you, offering pamphlets. One woman gives you her phone number- in case you have any questions or just want to talk. But she's a believer, and you are not. And though you appreciate the effort, you know you will never call.

â&#x20AC;˘

Megan Chambers zs a senior in Saybrook College.

The New journal/ February 3, 1989 13

l i The 'l:e,.., Joumal!Februarv 3. 1989

Old School Ties Peter Zusi The lounge of the Yale Club of New York City has many handsome wood tables . H eavy curtains on the windows have trapped a pleasant smell of pipe tobacco. The room is quiet; most of the m embers read newspapers taken from the selection on the tables, and a few people converse in low voices. The walls, ornamented with Ionic pilasters, reflect a certa in warmth even when the fireplaces are empty. This is where ~ alumni hang out.

The setting differs vastly from the archetypical college haunt, where wood tables are meant for carving and the smoke in the air comes from cigarettes . Many undergraduates who visit the Yale Club feel ill at ease: To them it is "alumni-land," an intimidating place where the Yale society of long-ago gather to drink Scotch and read the Wall Street Journal. Yet every year roughly 250 graduates, fresh from college, become members.

H aving recently come from the young, predominantly liberal envi- ~ ronment of Yale, they are greeted by the older, predominantly conservative environment of the Yale Club. Their college years ar e still too fresh to inspire sighs of nostalgia; friends know each o ther's immediate plans and have not lost contact. When young members go to the club, it is generally more in anticipation than in reminiscence.

These new alumni realize that the Yale Club is more than a place to eat, drink, and play squash. It is a symbol of a specific lifestyle: very comfortable, very proper, very Yale. This image has a touch of the anachronistic. School mottos carved above the fireplaces , strict requirements for dress, and the upkeep of old school ties create an atmosphere some members feel reflects Yale's worthy traditions, and others, its elitism.

The Yale Club of New York was in 1897 "to promote the frequent meeting together of Yale men ," according to the original Certificate of Incorporation. The club occupied two other buildings before moving in 1915 to Vanderbilt Avenue

+ created

r ight next to Grand Central Station.

The new building cost $1 million to build. It was the world's largest private club at the time, and it is still the largest college club. By the early Forties women were admitted as guests; by 1974 they could become members. The present club has 9,400 members, and it serves not only Yale alumni, but those of Dartmouth College and Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity as well.

In order to join, all applicants must present two recommendations from current members. In the spring of their senior year, however, undergraduates receive an invitation to join the club without the usual recommendations. If they apply by the following September, they can forego the five-and-a-half week waiting period and just pay the dues. Dues stan at S50 per quarteryear for those living in New York City, but increase to as much as S173. 75 per quarter over the next eight years, to match an anticipated rise in income.

Members have access to a wide range of facilities: There is a library, various dining rooms, several bars, a gym, squash courts, and a Turkish bath, as well as the lounge. But the majority of the club's 22 floors contain hotel rooms for o ut-of-town members. Lectures -often b y Yale professors- mixers, and specia l events, sometimes featuring Yale singing groups, keep the atmosphere from becoming too quiet. And there are always the weekly films of old Yale football games.

Altho ugh sometimes opting out of these activities, recently graduated students make good use of the club's facilities. "For someone our age, the main reason to go would be the athletics," Andy Cawker (SY '87) said. The gym is well-equipped and cheaper than most health clubs. The atmosphere has its own kind of appeal. "The gym is mellow," said Colin Weil (SM '88).

"It's not the singles-bar scene that most health clubs are." While riding the exercycles, for example, members divert their attention by watching the TV rather than each other.

Use of these facilities costs extra, but The Ne" JoumaUFebruary 3, 1989 15

-

are often •u•"DIIIiMil they can ring ujl_wiifljiiiill_..lt club. The lYilllelllt doea the build-up of costs. Squash courts: for a half an hour. Gym: S4 per use .

Furthermore, the dining rooms are expensive, at least bf,.,Ua,: standards of most people freah a..a,CoUege . Reuel Schiller (SM '88) . .... his parents to dinner one night iilad wu surprised to learn several ~-.er that he had spent $113. '"The food wasn't even that good. For that money you could get three Chineae meals. Or 113 slices of pizza.• But the club is decidedly not a pizza parlor, and there is a dress code to ensure no o ne makes that mistake .

Men must wear jacket and tie at all 16 The N ew Journal/ Februa ry 3. 1989

When young members go to the club,it is generally more in anticipation than in reminiscence.

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stepping back in time," Gawker said.

"It's very much from another age."

Even though Gawker has gone to the club only a few times, it always meets his expectations. "The Yale Club offers a chance to play grown-up. You go into this august atmosphere and hobnob with the old farts. You feel like you're playing a part: You pick up your Wall Street journal and a cigar and revel in it."

When recent graduates join the .Yale Club, they join an environment more similar to the Yale of their parents' day than the Yale of today. "I can only think that almost all the members from our class are sort of freaked out by the oldness," Schiller said. "It made me miss Yale, what Yale really is. It's a very stale version of Yale for me."

Vogel, however, does not let the Yale of earlier years interfere with his enjoyment of the club. He recalls sitting in the lounge with some friends shortly before the presidential election.

Temporarily suspending the usual dignity of the room, they began to read out loud Doonesbury cartoons mocking Bush. "It's my place, too," he said.

Women members are a little less certain about their place. Leslie Sydnor (MC '88) attends the club often. But she said that being a woman and being black noticeably affects the way some people react to her. "It puts a weird twist on going in there. I can be in the lobby, and Old Blues will go by and look at me like 'What the hell is she doing here?' I don't think the Old Blues are used to women being in there, and I don't think they are going to get used to it. At first I kind of got off on shaking them up a little, but now it sort of bugs me." The club's physical layout provides its own reminders that women members are a recent innovation. "Men's rooms are everywhere, but women's rooms are here and over

Reuel Schiller (SM '88) is bothered by the elitism of the club. there, and maybe over behind there, too," Sydnor said. These annoyances, however, do not prevent her from enjoying the club with her own crowd.

Other alumni take offense with the outdated attitudes they see at the club.

"The elitism of the place really does bother me, more than I thought it would," Schiller said.~"I'm sure I have stereotypes that are positively nauseating. But it overwhelmed me with everything that was wrong with Yale. I felt like I was drowning in old-boyness." Schiller's membership was a gift from his parents; he says he probably would not have joined otherwise. He feels that the quiet, oldfashioned elegance is not charming, but rather recalls more class-conscious ~ days. "It's really white. White ethnic New Yorkers serve white WASPy New Yorkers. It's pre-racism, preservation of a system from when race wasn't even an issue. I think for many older members it's a way to escape the plurality of New York."

Michael Vogel (BK '88): "It's my place , too."

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Exclusive membership, a standard advantage of any private club, is part of the Yale Club package. But the club's officers seem to be aware that this benefit can create bad impressions.

The club forbids its administrators from granting any interviews, and no pictures can be taken inside the building. These measures protect the club members' privacy, but they also conveniently limit criticism from outside.

By nine o'cloclt on a Wednesday evening the lounge is especially quiet.

Only a few people are still sitting and reading; it seems that most of the members have already left for home.

Jack Sobol (BR '53), however, is still fmishifig up the day's paper after going for his swim. Sobol said that when he was an undergraduate, he had only vaguely heard of the club and did not join until ten years a fter his graduation. The current phenomenon of students joining the Yale Club directly after graduation is fairly modern.

Although young members may try to shape the Yale Club to their own lifestyle, they must still meet the club half way. Overall, the club is attuned to an older way of life. "I could see going there and hanging out while waiting for a train at Grand Central," Schiller said, "but the chances of m y being at Grand Central in jacket and tie are about one in a million." The new generation of the Yale Club may find the old guard resistant to some of their ideas. Only a year-and-a-half ago, women were admitted to the Turkish bath. But Sobol still takes his daily swim. "It's an evolutionary process, you know. You're always in a period of transition."

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Wilderness School students learn cooperation and trust by forming a human knot and undoing it.

20 The New Journal/February 3. 1989

In the Rough Florence Williams

Victor cried silently in his sleeping bag Connecticut, trying very hard to whenever it got really tough. His believe in the school's credo that whole body hurt and he smelled bad. physical hardship builds character.

Hiking ~p and down steep hills was The challenge can seem severe, hard enough, but he also had to carry a especially to those teenagers who have heavy pack, dig latrines, and ward off always lived in a city. Victor had never bullying threats from Tyrone. At been in the woods. He had never slept times, Victor hated everyone in his on the ground or even cooked a meal. group so much he would not speak for And he had certainly never lived so an entire day. The food was terrible, he missed his family, and he was often cold and wet. On these miserable nights, he would bitterly recall the lies of his buddy Cesar, who had told him that the Wilderness School was like a vacation- fishing and basketball every day.

Victor Acevedo is what social workers in Connecticut call a "youth at risk ." At 17, he has twice been on closely with 11 other people. Leading the probation, and his principal at New group were two instructors trained in Haven's Wilbur Cross High School has outdoor skills and juvenile delinquent repeatedly suspended him for fighting. rehabilitation- one was a former WilEvery summer, about 130 Connecticut youths like Victor enroll in the derness School student. Together the team plodded through the rain, slept Wilderness School. Many of them under tarps, and fought like hell with have behavior problems or undereach other. There were no bloody achieve in school, according to the noses, though; the instructors allowed program's current annual report. only yelling and screaming. "Me and About half of the students have drug or Tyrone, we hated each other," Victor alcohol dependencies, and a quarter recalled. "I wanted to punch his face receive psychiatric treatment. For 20 in. There's a lot of stress-you get days the teenagers live together m small groups in the backwoods of ¡angry." About a week into the course,

"Me and Tyrone, we hated each other. I wanted to punch his face in."

Victor had had enough. He was homesick, exhausted. He wanted out.

Victor had his so-called friend Cesar to blame for turning him on to the program, but there was another culprit as well. Thomas Morrissey, a New Haven police officer, hooked Victor up with the Wilderness School. He also secured a grant from the New Haven Foundation to pay Victor's $800 tuition. Morrissey, a referral agent for the school, sends more teenagers into the woods than any other single agent.

For the past 12 years, he has obtained enough grant money to sponsor four New Haven teenager!! every summer.

In the early 1970's, Morrissey was one of a number of reformers who saw the need for creative ways of han~ing youths at risk. In 1974, the Connecticut Department of Corrections responded to this need by founding the Wilderness School. The agency designed the program to work in conjunction with established youthservice organizations such as counseling centers and detention homes.

These organizations refer students to the wilderness program and perform follow-up counseling after the teenagers return to civilization. Based out of an old scouting camp in Goshen, near the Berkshires in northwestern Connecticut, the school has access to The New Journal/ February 3 . 1989 21

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22 The New journal/ February 3. 1989

miles of wooded trails, rock climbing areas, and a navigable river.

The outdoor skills taught during the course build self- confidence, foster teamwork, and provide constructive challenges. Many social workers in tht· state swear by the program and ("itc numerous success stories.

Mor·risscv estimates that the \1\' ild<Tncss. School has a posrtrve emotional effect on 85 to 90 percent of its participants. H is figures arc high. hut th(·v mirror the findings of professionals. A study conducted at Yale in 1975 by Dr. Solomon Cytrynbaum found that the program helps students with their "social functioning, drug and alcoh ol abuse, [and] legal difficulties."

Such rewards do not come easily.

Morrissey tries to make sure his referrals know exactly what they are getting into. On his patrol , Morrissey finds kids who he thinks would make good candidates for the Wilderness School. He approaches them with a challenge: "H ey kid, you think you're pretty tough. Let's see if you can do something constructive." He chooses the final group very carefully, preselecting them for success. They have to want to go and they have to want to change. About half the applicants back out after seeing slides of the rock

climbing, he says. As an agent, Morrissey drives his referrals to Goshen where he helps them design personal goals for the course.

When Victor set out into the woods, his main goal was to '-'understand people without using violence." Many students had similar aims. The instructors held campfire therapy sessions each night to help everybody get along during the px:ogram.

The wilderness, however, is not for everyone. About one out of ten stu· dents ends up leaving the program early each year. One of Morrissey's referrals had to leave the course three days in: He had a bullet in his leg from a shooting on his street the night before he had left. He hadn't wanted to tell his instructors because he was afraid they would send him home.

But Victor stayed. A girl named Tammy, from Hartford, talked him into sticking it out. He says he was amazed that someone cared about him enough to want him around. Eventually, all the campers started getting along better. Even Tyrone could be a nice guy. "After every fight, we were a little closer," Victor explained. "We'd fight , we'd make up, we'd be better friends. " Learning to trust others is essential to the program, according to

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With students from a wide diversity of ethnic and geographic backgrounds, the school provides an intense cultural experience. "It's more realistic that way." said D yer, a former therapist now working full-time for the school.

Morrissey thinks the friendships that develop in the outdoors create feelings that stay with the teenagers a long time . "On the course, you've got to concentrate and have confidence," he explained. "These kids say to themselves, 'H ey, I am somebody- I can

hook up with a team and we can all be somebodies together.' It makes you feel like you're not a loner out there."

Victor knew he had friends he could trust when he tried climbing a granite cliff. The first stretch was easy, and he did well as long as he didn't look down .

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He was terrified. With his toes trembling on the rock, he couldn't find a higher place to put h is hands . \\'atching from below, the others saw him stop and began ch antin g his name. "They were cheerin~- every-

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24

The ~'·"

.Jo urnal/ Feb runry :l. 1989

body, Tammy, Tyrone." Victor kept going, eyes partially closed. When he came back down, he felt great. "I never felt better in my whole life. I looked up, and said, 'I did that!"'

During the high ropes section of the course, Victor found himself once again above solid ground. Harnessed to a climbing rope, he set out to cross a ravine by walking along one suspended cord and holding onto another. The others before him had deliberately jumped off halfway across, taking a trust fall , and then hoisting themselves back up. Victor was determined not to take the plunge. But when he got out there and looked into the expectant faces of those on the other side, he took a deep breath and let go. After dangling by the rope for a few seconds, Victor climbed back up and continued across.

One of the toughest course requirements came near the end. The campers were supposed to stay alone in one area for two days with only a tarp, a small handful of food, a pad of paper, and a pen. They were to use the time and solitude to think about improving their lives. Victor did what most students do: He ate all his food the first morning and then fasted the next day.

"The scariest thing about it was the wild animals," he said. Raccoons

invaded his camp the first afternoon.

"They attacked me. I ran the hell out of there." He was then allowed to set up his tarp 30 feet away from his instructors, but behind a tree, and he finished the course requirements .

Since Victor graduated from the program, Morrissey has stayed in touch. Maintaining contact with the students is important to him. A police officer for 18 years, Morrissey says the program keeps him from becoming numb to the street beat. "I've seen some horrible things, but I don't have a bad attitude about life . I don't do drugs, I don't take alcohol, and I haven't shot anybody. I give credit to the Wilderness School for keeping me in perspective."

Victor, on the other hand, has a new perspective. "I feel like I'm doing better- I don't fight like I used to," he said. He is anxious to return to the outdoo rs and has plans to try crosscountry skiing and cave-exploring as part of the school's follow-up activities.

He wants to recommend the program to some of his friends. "It was really hard, but I'm not sorry I did it," he said . And he no longer holds a grudge against Cesar.

As part of the training for the Wilderness School, students must learn how to prevent hypothermia.

â&#x20AC;˘Florence Coll~ge,

Williams, a senior in Berlceky is on the staff of TN].

The New J ournal/February 3, 1989 25

A Dramatic Lead Margo Schlanger "When you see Lloyd work with an actor, it's very subtle. You almost think he isn't doing anything."

26 The New Journal/February 3, 1989

Avery wants to be a preacher. He's going to rent out a room and start up a congregation.

When he gets his church, Berneice tells him, then they can talk about getting married. The cast of The Piano Lesson rehearses in a cold room in the Yale Afro-American Cultural Center. Director Lloyd Richards, near 70, with a neat, grayish beard, sits in his chair wearing a ski hat. "What does the church look like?" he asks. "Have you seen it? Have you been inside? Is it a storefront?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "OK , do it again."

Lloyd Richards, dean of the Yale School of Drama and artistic director of the Yale Repertory Theatre since 1978, is perhaps the preeminent black educator, administrator, and director in mainstream American theater.

Richards is steering The Piano Lesson,

by August Wilson, along a now familiar path. With Richards as director, Wilson's three other plays premiered at the Rep , travelled to several regional theater s, and opened finally on Broadway. Piano Lesson is in the middle of its journey: After playing at the Rep

1/f

I

Lloyd R ich a r ds, dean of the Yale D rama S chool and a r t istic director of the Yale Reperto r y Theatre. last season, it moved to Boston and then went up in Chicago, although the actors rehearsed in New Haven with Richards. With Wilson's plays, Richards has found the national acclaim that has eluded him since his first Broadway directing credit in 1959, A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine H ansberry. Like Raisin, which was the first Broadway play ever to have a black director, the Wilson plays make stories of African-American life accessible to both black and white audiences. Throughout his career , Richards has quietly worked to sound black voices o n an historically white stage.

"When you see Lloyd work with an actor, it's very subtle. You almost th ink he isn't doing anything," says Gitta H onegger, the R ep's resident dramaturg. who frequently directs.

Because Rtchards grants his actors so much freedom , Charles Dutton (ORA '83) considers him an actor's director.

"H e never really tells you what he wants," says Dunon, who has played a lead role in three of Wilson's plays.

"You intuitively or instinctively or accidentally find it. And then he'll tell you you're absolutely right." Richards developed this directing style over his 20 years of teaching at Paul Mann's Actor's Workshop, Hunter College, and New York University. "Lloyd has the patience of Job- more patience than any man I've ever met," Dutton says.

Richards sees himself as a p laywright's director. "I am not interested in bending a play to m y own purposes.

I am interested in understanding the intent of the playwright to the extent that it is possible," he says. Each season Richards directs one or two plays at the Rep. H e tries to give voice to the playwright's intent with every play, from Ibsen's A Doll's House to Lee Blessing's Cobb, but he prefers plays in which he can influence the playwright. According to Wilson, Richards once called him up to discuss a draft of Piano Lesson . He said, "I think you have one too many scenes here," Wilson says. Reading back over the play, Wilson decided that yes, there was an

expendable section. The next time he talked to Richards, Wilson told his friend that he had taken out the scene. "Lloyd said 'Good,' and to this day I don't kn ow if we were talking about the same scene."

As artistic di rector, R ichards has dedicated the R ep to helping new and unestablished playwrights. "The p laywright is at the core of the work of both the school and the Rep," he says. "The work that he produces is the future of the theater. And unless playwrights are evolving, what is the future?" In 1981, this belief provided the impetus for Winterfest, the Rep's annual festival of four new plays by young, unknown playwrights.

Richards also chooses the p lays for the Rep's regular season. H e admits that it is a personal decision. "You gravitate towards things that reveal or express yourself," he says. Richards turns to p lays that deal directly and powerfully with issues of blackness.

His successes have not been in what he calls "redoing other people's doings," but in establishing relaThe New JournaVFebruary 3 , 1989 27

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R ichard s, director o f Raisin in the Sun starring Sidney P oi tier. tionships with playwrights whose work he then helps develop. "One of the most wonderful things that can happen is to discover someone whose thoughts and artistry are parallel to your own," Richards says. One such discovery was Athol Fugard, a white South African who writes about people in a society dominated and defined by apartheid.

Since 1979 the Rep has produced seven Fugard plays, including three world premiers. "One of my reasons for being in the theater is that it gives me a platform from which to articulate my own feelings, my own thoughts, my own concerns," Richards says.

Although he puts the playwright at the rhetorical center, Richards silently places himself right a longside.

Armed only with a foot locker full of possessions, a degree in theater from Wayne University of Detroit, and a Veterans' Entitlement to S20 per week .

Richards arrived in New York City in 194-8. Work was not plentiful for black actors, and he joined what he calls the "artistic circle of the unemployed." He

also joined a group of young black newcomers to the theater that included Lorraine Hansberry and Douglas Turner Ward. In a world that offered blacks few opportunities in the theatrical mainstream, many in this group were to make their careers by founding black theaters for black audiences. Ward, director of the Negro Ensemble Company , asked Richards to direct various plays during the 1960's. Richards turned him down, choosing instead to work towards opening white theater to the black experience. His big stage successes have been in historically white venues, and his TV work has been mostly on black projects accepted by white audiences, such as a segment of Roots.

"Richards has tended not to create a separate black institution , as many of his contemporaries did, but to bring black voices into white institutions," says Caroline Jac kson (TC '74). dirc~c­ to r of the Yale Afro-Amt>rica n Cultural Center and a student of African-American theater.

"I am first of all a black man in a

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One of the '.Largest Selections of \fllamins in the Area ' white world," Richards says. "For me to say that that does not either concern or affect me would b e both ridiculous and untrue. It does. I am concerned that persons of different backgrounds â&#x20AC;˘ find a way to relate, to interrelate, and to create as well as to share." Richards has demonstrated these concerns at the Drama School by opening up the school to a greater number of minority students. "His being here is a great source of inspiration and pride," one black student says , although she complains that even now there is a "quota mentality" at the school. She says that every year three black actors-two men, one woman - are admitted to a class of 16. Another student, also a black woman, questions this unofficial quota. "Can't there ever be six black acting students in a class here?" she asks. But she says, "If there's a certain amount of sadness, there's a certain amount of gratitude as well."

For Richards, the theater door opened after Sidney Poitier was offered a role in Raisin, his first on Broadway, and pushed for Richards as director. Bonds

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like these, mostly with other black men, have strengthened Richards' career. After his appointment to Yale, he received a phone call from James Earl Jones. According to Richards, "He said, 'That's wonderful-you're going to Yale.' And I said, 'If I go, you go."' Jones performed twice at the Rep during Richards' first season and three times since. "Lloyd is loyal to people he works with, and he's interested in our personal artistic growth," Honegger says. Students point out that Yale is one of the only professional theater programs with no obligatory cuts after the first year; the school accepts students for all three years. "It would be very hard to go away," Honegger explains. "It would be like leaving a family."

Some students, however, take issue with this rhetoric of family and characterize Richards as less a father than a distant uncle. His assistants, especially Associate Dean Earle Gister, run¡ .the school day-to-day. Many students complain that they rarely deal with Richards. "Teaching was a thing that I did forego, and it's a loss because it takes you out of direct contact with students," he says. Fundraising takes up over half his time. But Richards does teach one session of the first-year acting class. Chris Grabowski (DRA '89) says, "~t's what I call a whiz-bang 30 The New JournaVFebruary 3, 1989

Lloyd Richards and Playwright August Wilson's friendship brought African-American plays to the Yale Repertory Theatre.

class. It ended up with everyone in tears. You weren't even aware of where you were being led, and all of a sudden it was this incredibly emotional thing."

After the class ended, "Lloyd sort of brushed his hands together and off he went." When Grabowski left the classroom, he ran into a friend who took one look at him and said, "Oh, Lloyd must have taught today."

Richards' work powerfully affects people beyond the classroom as well. He often tells the story of a woman he saw buying a ticket for Raisin in Philadelphia. He J<.new she was a cleaning woman from the contents of the shopping bag she carried.

The woman was shocked by the price of the ticket. When he asked her why she was there, she answered that neighbors had told her, "There's

something here that has to do with me." The woman affirmed Richards' belief that theater could communicate to people outside its traditionally white, wealthy audience. "The Rep has doors that open two ways, both to the university and to the community," Richards says. "We are aware of the multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multinational neighborhood in which we live. And we must continually ensure that the sense of participation exists for all people in our community, that our theater is a place that's comfortable for all."

But despite Richards' efforts, the Rep's audience remains overwhelmingly white. Perhaps in his drive to increase subscription sales, he has defeated himself. During his tenure, the number of subscribers has risen

~ · E · A·B · T-W · b · D · P "I am first of all a black man in a white world. For me to say that that does not either concern or affect me would be both ridiculous and u ntrue."

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from 2, 700 to 8,000, an increase crucial to the Rep and the school's financial security. Almost all these subscribers are white. During last year's run of Piano Lesson the majority of non-subscription ticket sales were to blacks, and the resulting audience was about 25 percent black. This year, however, 80 percent of each house is filled by subscribers, crowding out Richards' multi-ethnic ideal. Richards' contract ends in 1991 , leaving him .., only two more years to continue his drive for a more encompassing theater.

Lymon is asking Berneice about Grace.

"What she look like- the woman he was wilh? She got brown skin? About this high? Got nice hips on herr ~she had on a red dress. , ~77zat's her. , Richards laughs. When the scene ends, he addresses one actor. "You're slurring your words. Emphasize the first word even if it's short, or we lose it."

Wilson wants to make a change in the script, and he gives Richards the new line, mumbling slightly. "Now don't you start slurring, too," Richards says.

"Next scene."

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