Life in a Prep School

The recent talk about Kavanaugh and the culture associated with Yale and Prep Schools has me recalling my connections to the culture. In 1967,entering 7th grade,I was accepted and received a partial scholarship to attend Kingswood School in West Hartford Connecticut. Kingswood was considered to be one of the most prestigious prep schools in Connecticut,and a high percentage of its graduates went on to attend the Ivy League Colleges such as Yale,Harvard,or Dartmouth. It was an all boys prep school. It is now known as Kingswood-Oxford School having merged with an all girls prep school

Mom was excited about my acceptance.Not only would a successful career at Kingswood virtually assure me of academic prosperity after graduation,but attending Kingswood were the offspring of some of Connecticut's most prominent families. In Mom's eyes,rubbing shoulders with some of Connecticut's elite would put me in with the "Old Boys Club" and I would be set for life. Mom was an educational activist who fought for better conditions in the Hartford Public school system,but wasn't going to sacrifice her children while waiting for its improvement. I was also constantly threatened and teased while in public school and my Mom hoped that in a more stringent academic envionment that the teasing would stop.

In anticipation of the different academic,cultural,and social scene I would encounter at Kingswood,when our family took our annual Washington DC trip to be with my grandparents,Mom enrolled me in the summer program at St.Albans Prep in Washington. St. Albans' most famous graduate is Al Gore and St Albans primary athletic rivalry is with none other than Kavanaugh's Georgetown Prep.

I didn't like St Albans and my year at Kingswood was the worst year I ever experienced in school.

Academically,I did struggle. I always had problems with Math,but at Kingswood,I was under the added pressure of possible expulsion for failing at any subject. In Elementary School,being a great student was a buffer from the threatening and teasing I had gotten. Now that buffer was gone.

While in Elementary School,I was teased for such things as being a bookworm,being a terrible athlete,and not being up on the latest dance being shown on Soul Train. At Kingswood,being a bad athlete was the least of my hassles,in fact if I had been a decent athlete, teasing may have ceased as it seemed like at a school with few black students,the ones who were good athletes were protected and even placed on a pedestal.
There was a particular type of meanness behind my teasing at Kingswood. Kids would talk to me using their best Amos and Andy impressions. Once had a kid flash a dollar bill in front of me asking if I had ever seen one before. It was assumed that I had a switchblade. We were required to wear ties at Kingswood. I was not good at tying ties,so I had a collection of clip on ties. It was a regular between class occurance that my tie would be ripped off me and tossed around amongst various classmates.

I hated my time at Kingswood,but was also aware of how much it meant to my Mom,so I tried to hang in there. It came down to if I passed my Math Final,I would be allowed to stay a second year. I remember studying and attempting to do my best but during a break while taking the exam,kids took my tie and tossed it around again. When I came across a tough portion of the Final,I concluded that passing the exam wasnt worth the hassles,so I turned in the unfinished final,flunked and was kicked out.
I remember Mom being in tears upon being informed I was being kicked out and although I later found both academic and social success at a less prestigeous prep school,I lived under the "Why couldn't you have done this at Kingswood?" bit for years afterwards.

2 years after I got kicked out,my brother Howie was kicked out for making a bomb threat. He was protesting Kingswood's exchange program with a prep school in Apartheid South Africa.

I cant imagine life at Kavanaugh's Georgetown Prep being much different than that at Kingswood..

High School Issues

Back in my day,the big political issue when I was in High School was the Vietnam War. I was too young to be drafted,but old enough to have to register with the Selective Service. I didn't for a long time,but that's another story for another time.

I was opposed to the war and demonstrated my opposition by as a seventh grader spending my weekends volunteering for the anti war Presidential campaign of Sen.Eugene McCarthy and four years later for the anti war campaign of Sen.George McGovern. Two of my best friends in High School had different opinions. There was Robert Loy. Robert Loy was a staunch Republican who viewed Richard Nixon was too liberal. Loy was highly intelligent,some students called him "Meet the Press" due to his thoughtful responses to questions that he would answer in a nearly monotone voice. Our friendship was based on the fact that we were both considered nerds.

There was also Josh Eddy. Josh with his crew cut hairstyle and love of Elvis Presley could have easily fit into the High School scene of the 1950's. We were teammates on our Varsity Basketball team. In his own way,he was an outsider in our High School thus we connected.

Despite our differences on such issues as Vietnam and Marijuana Legalization,Robert Loy,Josh Eddy and myself were staunch anti Communist which pissed my younger brother Howie off to no end. In High School,Howie was involved with the Black Panthers and viewed Mao Tse Tung's Red Book as like a Bible.

All of us attended Watkinson School,a private college prep school in Hartford Connecticut. At Watkinson,there were two History Teachers. Jack Chatfield was a Trinity College graduate who as an undergraduate was active in the Civil Rights movement as a member of the Student Non Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) Once,while registering black voters in the South,he was shot by the Ku Klux Klan.  Among his personal friends was noted Civil Rights and Anti War activist Julian Bond.  Jack was a controversial teacher at Watkinson. Some parents petitioned to have him fired for teaching a course on Communism. Jack wasnt a Communist but felt we needed to be informed. He also let students drink at his house and crash there if  need be,figuring it was better to have some supervision rather than none at all.The other history teacher was John Robinson. John Robinson was a World War II vet who fought in the Pacific. His hero was John Wayne and to be in John Robinson's class or Study Hall meant at some point you were going to hear of his exploits in the Pacific. Some of his stories seemed to echo John Wayne movies. His stories were often peppered with ethnic slurs which I'm sure today would be grounds for firing,but he could get away with it because there was no way he was going to get fired without Jack Chatfield being fired also and that wasnt going to happen.

Next to Watkinson School was the University of Hartford. Like with many college campuses at the time,there was an active anti war and anti draft movement on campus and at one point there was a call for a sit in to protest the war. Needless to say word of the sit in spread to Watkinson and in fact some U of H students asked Watkinson students to join in on the action.
In his classroom,Chatfield promoted the sit in and encouraged any student that wished to join in the action. Robinson could not stop students outside of his class from participating,but made it clear that any student skipping his class to participate would find themselves facing Saturday detention.
                                               Thank God I was assigned to Jack Chatfield's class!

On the day of the sit in,yes, there were some students that looked at it as an opportunity to skip class. My pal Robert Loy didn't,but was willing to debate any student or teacher on the merits of the war,including Jack Chatfield and my brother Howie. Jack Chatfield brought in a host of anti war speakers to his classroom,including a member of SNCC who made the connection to American Imperialism abroad and racial issues at home.

Some students assigned to John Robinson's class felt it was worth Saturday detention to participate in the sit in. His classes went on pretty much normal as my friend Josh Eddy was assigned to his classroom although Josh told me he was using the term "Commie Pinko" more often than usual that day. After attending Jack Chatfield's history class,I spent the rest of the day on the University of Hartford's campus assisting in various efforts there.

My brother Howie ended up being assigned Saturday detention. It was not for skipping John Robinson's class as he like myself had Chatfield but rather for his, along with fellow student Jon Lubin, taking down the American flag off the flagpole and hoisting the North Vietnamese flag.
For that action,I found myself in arguments with Howie,Josh and Robert.

As I look back,I am greatly appreciative of the diverse voices I was exposed to. It helped create the critically thinking mind I have today.

                                                       Jack Chatfield

Lunchtime at Watkinson

Watkinson School is a small college prep school on the border of Hartford and West Hartford in Connecticut. I attended Watkinson School from 1969-73. Seems like many of my adult friends had negative high school experiences. This was not the case with me. For me,Watkinson provided a stimulating learning enviornment and to this day I have friends who I met while attending school at Watkinson.

At the time I attended Watkinson,there were 120 students attending from Grades 7-12. As such,here’s how lunchtime was handled:

Every 2-3 weeks a lunch table seating chart was posted on the bulletin board. Each table had about 8 chairs to it and outside of one Seniors only table,each had a teacher as the head of it. The changing of the lunch tables always created a stir at school.It provided relief for some and agony for others. I always looked first to see what teacher I was assigned to. For me this determined how fun lunchtime would be or which was more likely or not to keep the troublemakers at bay. I most enjoyed being assigned to Jack Chatfield’s (history teacher) table. Other enjoyable teachers were Mr. Roger Richard,and Mr.Robert Devine. I hated being assigned to Col.Leiby’s table. Col.Leiby was my math teacher..and I flunked his math classes. Col.Leiby loved to hand out demerits (marks for bad behavior),and virtually every demerit I received at Watkinson was thanks to Col.Leiby. 5 demerits meant Saturday detention. Lunchtime was no fun with Colonel Leiby.

Next,I would look to see what students were assigned to my table. When I first attended Watkinson in 9th grade,there were 3 students I hated to be seated with..the late Bruce Edwards,Mike Morgan,as well as the late Steve Shea. They created trouble for me to which I’ll explain a little later. They all left Watkinson after my 10th grade year and after that,I had no problem with any student I was assigned with. Any lunchtime spent with Bob Loy,Josh Eddy, Glen Elliott,Bob Watts or any of the girls I had secret crushes on was a plus.

When it was lunchtime,we’d find our assigned tables. Once we found them,we were required to stand behind the chair till a prayer was said,usually by a faculty member or a member of the student council. To sit before the prayer was an automatic demerit. Once the prayer was said,we could be seated,however if a teacher happened to be late for lunch,we would have to stand till the teacher was seated. One of the reasons I got along well with Jack Chatfield was besides being a stimulating teacher,one of his first actions was to say “The hell with this formal B.S”! A student late for lunch got a demerit.

At each table,2 students were assigned as waiters or waitresses.Every student had their shot at it..there was no escape. We were responsible for bringing the lunch to each table as well as cleanup. Here’s where it was important NOT to have a troublemaker at your lunch table because if you did,they were sure to make messes and if a teacher didn’t catch onto it,in the short time one had between being dismissed from lunch and the beginning of the afternoon class,you were stuck cleaning up the mess they intentionally would leave.

After lunch was finished and waiters and waitresses had cleaned and removed the lunches,there was an announcement period given by faculty members and often the Student Council President. My freshman year at Watkinson Tom Ekwurtzel was the Student Body President. I liked his announcements..they were often funny and with references to music I liked. I looked up to Tom and said to myself that when I become a Senior,I wanted to be one just like Tom.

Lunch announcements also served as comic relief,especially when they were given by Athletic Director Lloyd McDonald..he of the New Zealand accent and colorful terms. (Took me years to discover what a “Drongo” was) “Riiight now after lunch the Varsity Basketball team will be playing the American School for the Dead err Deaf” He was just predicting the outcome as we’d lose to them by 40 and 50 points.

News of Watkinson's Varsity Basketball Team,which I was part of often provided comic relief at lunchtime..

After announcements,we’d be dismissed from the lunchroom. There was often a few minutes between the end of announcement and the end of class..that is if you have a big mess to cleanup by a troublemaker. Seniors at Watkinson were allowed to smoke cigarettes on the Senior steps back then. I didn’t smoke cigarettes then,but during my senior year,I’d find my way to the back of the soccer fields to enjoy a different kind of smoke..

.But that’s another story for another time!

The Bust

It was COLD on this 1974 January evening in Anchorage Alaska. This was my first winter in Alaska and thus far the winters seemed every bit like the ones described by Jack London in his books. It was those descriptions in White Fang,Call of the Wild,and To Build a Fire that in part drew me to Alaska in the first place and when offered a scholarship to attend Alaska Methodist University,I jumped at the opportunity to begin my own Alaskan Adventure,and in the process,shocking the homefolks who had me pencilled in to attend American University in Washington DC.

Alaska Methodist University was a tiny liberal arts college in Anchorage. At the time I attended,it was a college of 400 students total. I began attending Alaska Methodist University(or AMU as we would call it) in the Fall of 1973
I loved it. It was a beautiful campus nestled away in a wooded area of Anchorage.It wasn't uncommon to encounter moose on the way to class.

Attending a college 5,000 miles away from my Connecticut home also gave me an opportunity to spread my wings like never before. It was the freedom of not having to answer to parents every night. 2 years previous to attending AMU,I had begun smoking marijuana. Now my mom had accused me of smoking marijuana years before I actually did,thanks to my involvement in the Eugene McCarthy anti Vietnam War Presidential campaign as well as sympathetic comments I'd make about hippies and the hippie movement,but now as I began to attend parties and concerts,I had been facing the spectre of mom waiting up for me and checking for red eyes.

Now I was free from Mom's watchful eyes and it didn't take long to find other students who loved to toke up too..

During the fall months,there was nothing like burning a joint or two in the Alaskan woods surrounding the campus..after all we were enjoying a plant surrounded by trees,with a view of the mountains and interrupted only by moose sightings.

There was a group of us who would gather in the woods at about the same time after classes. Over that joint or two,we'd discuss the latest campus happenings,catch up on gossip and map out future plans before dispersing into our various dorm rooms.  That's not to say marijuana wasn't smoked in the dorm rooms,it was,but although Alaska had the most lax laws regarding marijuana usage at the time,this was a college run by the Methodist Church and there were major penalties at hand should one be caught. Keeping a watchful eye on such activities in the men's dorm was the dorm director Mr.Darryl Peterson .

At a campus as small as AMU's it didn't take much to know who the potheads were and Darryl Peterson proved to be quite adapt at busting them. It bothered Darryl greatly that a month before,by using marijuana code words in my campaign statements,I had become the first Freshman elected to AMU's Student Assembly
I seemed to always elude his busts either by leaving a dorm room just before he busted the room or by just not stopping by a room I'd normally stop by on the day it got busted.

Once the heart of winter hit,it simply became too cold for our group to gather outside thus all of our gatherings took place in various dorm rooms.

There were 3 rules that were important to adhere to if one was not to be busted. Rule #1 Always have the window open no matter how cold it was. Rule #2  Always put a towel at the door and Rule#3 Should someone knock on the door,always be silent.Trust the person at the door to identify themselves. It was okay to leave music on because often students left music on even if they weren't present.

On this particular January night,the decision was to gather in the dorm room of Noburu Yamaguchi.Yamaguchi was an exchange student from Nagoya Japan. He wasnt a pothead like the rest of the group,but he couldn't understand how my roommate and myself could get higher grades and even make the Dean's List with the amount of marijuana we would consume on a daily basis.Yamaguchi being the curious sort befriended my roommate and myself and even toke up with us on occasion.

Also gathering in the room was my roommate David Trent.David,like me was also from the East Coast (Baltimore) and who also blew off attending Yale University in order to have his own Alaskan Experience.

Also in the room was Floyd Bedford from the South Side of Chicago.Floyd was the only other black student on campus and would often point out if not for that fact,we'd never hang out.Though Floyd would smoke with the group from time to time,he never quite got our seeming obsession with "reefer"

Jake Shelton,a Tlingit Indian from Ketchikan in Southeast Alaska. Jake,along with his girlfriend,Cheryl Luther,a Caucasian woman from Cantwell Alaska. Jake knew Alaska like none of us in the room and Jake also knew where to score the best weed.

There was Pat Ligada and Trina Hagar. Pat was a pothead who gathered with us because not only did she liked the weed,she also liked Floyd. Trina had three reasons to be in the room Pot,Floyd and my roommate David

Soon to be joining us would be Mike Murran,an Eskimo from Barrow Alaska

Normally,these gatherings would take place in the early evening,usually after dinner was served on campus,but for some reason,this gathering was put off till later in the evening. Cheryl,Pat,and Trina were going to have to be careful as no women were allowed to be in the men's dorm after 9pm. We hurridly let them into Yamaguchi's room.

Dorm rooms at AMU were not very large,and to have 7 people with a 8th coming made for a rather full room,but it was COLD outside! Cheryl,Pat,and Trina had a cold walk to make from the woman's dorm to the men's dorm,so to keep things cozy,Yamaguchi's dorm room windows remained closed,

This was a fun,interesting and lively group to be around. The different perspectives just based on the different places we came from meant there was never a dull moment amongst us,but we liked each other and before you knew it,the joints started burning and the music would start flowing. The Alaskans in the group were particularly interested in what David and I were listening to because the relative isolation of Alaska in 1974,no live TV and few radio stations meant that because of our East Coast connections,we were privy to a lot of music Alaskans were not exposed to. I cant recall what music was playing,but it's a good bet it was something like John McLaughlin's Mahavishnu Orchestra,Miles Davis or John Coltrane.

We were all having a great time and the room was getting rather smoky,but Mike hadn't shown up yet and we were trying to save our last joints for the evening for when Mike arrived

Mike Murran was a pretty big guy and when he was about to enter a room you knew it. He had a knock that one could hear from the other side of the dorm. Mike had a big booming voice too.Sometimes,he'd bug other people in the dorm because he was so loud and at different times,we'd ask him to cool it.

Pat was getting anxious,it was getting late and she wanted to smoke the last joint she had in her hand when we heard the door go BOOM BOOM BOOM! We all cheered! Mike was here! BOOM BOOM BOOM All of us in our unique voices and ways shouted out COME IN! Yamaguchi in his Japanese accent repeated the words twice Pat lit the joint and Jake opened the door as smoke came billowing out of the dorm room.

Mike Murran wasnt at the door.Darryl Peterson was. Darryl was there to pass on news about the dorm.He made that announcement,then instructed us to remain in the room till he returned. When he returned,he had his assistant with him as well as the Woman's dorm director. Pat,Cheryl,and Trina were instructed to stay in the room with their dorm director as Darryl had Yamaguchi,Floyd,Jake,David and myself go into the adjacent dorm room which happened to be David's and mine. Mike Murran arrived just as we were being marched into my room.

Darryl began to read off what we were up against. We were immediately being placed on probation. Another on campus bust and we'd be kicked out of the dorms and anyone on scholarship could see their scholarships affected. That meant me. Yamaguchi should the Exchange Professor hear about it,he could face deportation to Japan where he would be treated as if the Police had busted him. Japan's government never took to marijuana busts kindly.

Darryl seemed to be particularly happy with this bust. In one fell swoop he had busted an outspoken Student Assemblyman,both blacks on campus,in Jake and Cheryl two of the most popular people on campus,a Japanese exchange student and overall some of the biggest potheads attending Alaska Methodist University.

I began to ponder the moment..both with what I was facing and how Darryl Peterson was approaching this bust. I was also baked..baked on a level that Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong would havebeen proud of in 1974. I began to laugh uncontrollably. Gut level laughing..you know..the type of laughing that brings tears to your eyes. The longer Darryl went with his presentation,the harder I laughed.

Needless to say,eventually this pissed off Darryl and his stopped his presentation to address me.

"You're in a lot of trouble David,do you think that's funny?"

The smart thing to do would have been to stop laughing,but I continued to laugh as I replied to him
"I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW STUPID WE WERE THIS TIME"

January 4 1965

On January 4th 1965,I turned 10 years old. In 1965,I wanted to be President of the United States. In 1965 desiring to be President of the United States at 10 years old was not a popular ambition amongst other 10 year olds. Generally what you heard was kids wanting to be firemen,policemen or baseball players. Add to the fact that in 1965,given social conditions at the time along what what Bob Marley would refer to later as "mental slavery",there was a widespread belief at the predominently black CA Barbour School in Hartford Connecticut's North End thought of a black President as an impossible goal and by many kids,the ambition for me to be President was viewed upon as "acting white." For me,aiming for the White House at 10 years old in 1965 meant giving kids one more thing to tease,ridicule and threaten me about.

One person who didn't scoff at my ambition was my Mom. She in fact was thrilled by the thought. Mom was a Civil Rights and Democratic Party activist. In addition,Mom was born and raised in Washington DC. The White House and Capitol were just minutes away from the house where she grew up. One surefire way to make my Mom mad in addition to bringing up my Dad was bringing up the name of Richard Nixon who she remembers for taking his kids out of the DC Public Schools the moment the schools desegregated. Mom's political hero was Minneapolis Mayor Hubert Humphrey who she remembered for making a fiery speech in favor of the adoption of a Civil Rights Plank in the Democratic Party's 1948 Platform.  I remember Mom screaming with excitement at the TV when at a news conference,President Lyndon Johnson announced he would nominate now Senator Hubert Humphrey as his Vice Presidential running mate. That was my Mom. All she did once I made my ambition known was to push for me to make good grades,talk to me as to what careers I might want to pursue on the way to the White House,and on our family's summer trips to Washington,she would take me to the halls of Congress. I was impressed that Connecticut Senators Abraham Ribicoff and Thomas Dodd both knew my Mom on a first name basis. When at school classmates would tease,ridicule and threaten me for being Me,I could always find comfort in my Mom's encouragement and belief. While she would acknowledge that there would likely be added obstacles due to being Black in America,she'd always tell me "You can accomplish whatever you want if you put your mind to it."

Mom also encouraged us Daniels Brothers from an early age to think for ourselves and to stand up for our beliefs. I believe she probably questioned herself for stating that beginning in the Fall of 1964.

CA Barbour School was going to hold mock elections for Grades 4-6. I was in the 4th Grade. Mom at this time was working on behalf of the Johnson-Humphrey campaign. Mr.Eugene Green,my 4th Grade teacher was a friend of Mom's. Prior to the mock election,Mr.Green decided to decorate the classroom with posters and flyers of various candidates.Mom was happy to supply the classroom with posters and literature from the Johnson-Humphrey campaign as well as every other Democratic candidate on the ballot. It endeared Mom to most other students as part of the mock election project was for the students to bring in something about the Presidential candidate that they liked.

But where was the Republican literature?

At this point it was time for me to take action. I knew Mom hated the Republican candidate for President,Barry Goldwater,primarily due to his opposition to the 1964 Civil Rights Act. My grandmother felt as if she was witnessing a contrarian in the making.."Why do you have to be so contrary?" she would say to me. "If the wall was red,you might say it was black just to be different"
Armed with that information and seizing the opportunity to stand out,I informed Mom that I was going to support Barry Goldwater in the mock election. I knew why she hated him,I also knew by watching the news that he often wore Cowboy gear and rode horses. I liked Cowboys thus in my mind he couldn't be as evil as everyone was making him out to be.

When I look back,thinking about how Mom felt about Goldwater,knowing how active she was on behalf of the Johnson-Humphrey team,for her to go to Goldwater Headquarters to obtain a Goldwater poster for my school project might give someone just a glimpse of who my mother was. I still had to deal with talks like "Do you know what he stands for?" and warnings about if I'm going to be President how I better not be guided by blind ambition. If I talked back,I risked comparisons to Richard Nixon or my Dad,then you knew she was real mad and that it was time to back off

I was the only one from Grades 4-6 to vote for Goldwater and Goldwater lost in a landslide similar to CA Barbour School's mock election.

For my 10th birthday,a party was held at the Parma Restaurant in Downtown Hartford. A number of the neighborhood kids were in attendance along with their parents.
The Parma was an Italian Restaurant and we were all treated to a nice Italian meal. I cant remember anything except how I loved the Italian bread.

"Why?" One might ask "would a birthday party for a 10 year old be held at a downtown Hartford restaurant when such a gathering could have easily been held in the Daniels house or any number of houses in the neighborhood?

Mom,being who she was knew the Parma Restaurant was frequented by Hartford's politicians. Hartford's Mayor at the time,William Glynn made an appearance at this party,What was interesting about that appearance was Mom and Mayor Glynn had clashed in the past. I remember overhearing a heated phone conversation over a "Letter to the Editors' piece she wrote in the Hartford Courant criticizing him. At the same time it was clear that Mom was well respected in the neighborhood and it was best not to alienate her too much. Also making an appearance was the North End's City Councilman,West Indian born Collin Bennett

Already this is pretty heady stuff for a 10 year old who wants to be President,but a 10 year old,no matter how "heady" the occasion might be, still appreciates the traditional birthday ice cream and cake and the opening of presents.

I got a couple toys and a little money..the last present came from Mom in the form of two envelopes.One smaller One larger.Mom told me to open the smaller envelope first. It was an Eastern Airlines flight to Washington DC!  No Daniels Brother had ever flown in an airplane before!The Daniels family usually drove to Washington DC and we travelled to DC in the summertime,not in January. The thought of seeing my Granddaddy in January alone was exciting enough,but Mom said to open the second larger envelope.

It was a formal invitation to the Inauguration of President Lyndon Johnson and Vice President Hubert Humphrey. Apparently Mom forgave me for voting for Goldwater.



A postscript:Sometimes what goes around does come around as years later as a parent,there I was witnessing in a High School Debate,my daughter Rose as the only person speaking out against the Legalization of Marijuana..