BY HANK REICHMAN

Prominent among the cascade of remarkable events in the incredible year of 1968 were a series of student rebellions, the most prominent of which was the uprising at Columbia University in April and May, in which I participated and about which I will have more to post next month.  But the first large student rebellion of that year came 50 years ago this week at historically black Howard University in Washington, D.C. where over 1,000 students seized the administration building on March 19 in a dispute over the threatened expulsion of as many as 39 classmates [accounts from the time vary as to the exact number threatened, ranging from 35 to 39], who had been accused of disrupting the school’s 101st Charter Day three weeks earlier.  The demands soon widened.  Students demanded that the university establish a department of Afro-American history and culture.  They wanted the resignation of University President James Nabrit, a leader in the civil rights movement of the 1950s and ‘60s and a counsel for the NAACP in Brown vs. Board of Education.  And they wanted courses that allowed them to reach out into the working class community around Howard.  Four days later, on March 23, the sit-in ended with a compromise agreement, announced by the esteemed scholar Kenneth Clark, that saved those students from expulsion.  Both protest leaders and the student body as a whole regarded the settlement, in student association president Ewart Brown’s words: “(As a) victory for black students not only at Howard but at every black college.”

Rick Massimo, a reporter for Washington’s WTOP news radio station, has published a fine piece on the events, based in part on interviews with two prominent leaders of the protest — Adrienne Manns Israel (then Adrienne Manns) and Anthony Gittens.  Here is some of that account:

On Tuesday, March 19, 1968, about 1,000 students held a rally in front of Douglass Hall.  From there, a group of students entered the administration building.

The next move was to conduct a sit-in at President James Nabrit’s office until their demands were at least addressed, if not met.

The activists wanted Nabrit’s resignation; a judiciary system for student discipline; an emphasis on African-American history and culture in the curriculum, and the dropping of charges against 39 students inspired by the above issues who had made a protest three weeks earlier at Howard’s centennial Charter Day celebration.

Most important, Israel remembers now, they simply wanted negotiations, and to be heard.  That was unusual at most institutions at the time, and particularly at Howard: “They would not dignify us with a response,” Israel said.  “Our demand is an answer – we want you to say publicly what you think about these issues.  And [Nabrit] never would.”

As they entered the building, it turned out they had more support than they thought.

“When we went in, we thought it would be the usual group … that we would be there, and it would be one more instance when they came and dragged us out,” Gittens said.  “We turned around as we were walking into the building, and first there were scores, and then the word got out around campus about what was happening, and there were hundreds of students who joined the protest and took over the entire building.”

“We thought we had enough people to fill the third floor,” Israel said, “… but there were so many students who came into the building … we had to adjust.”

The only people they let in were guards who locked the other offices in the building.  And when public relations director A. Alexander Morisey tried to enter Wednesday, March 20, he was stopped by a line of students stood shoulder to shoulder, the Evening Star reported.  One told him, “This is the revolution.”

Security guards went from classroom to classroom, locking the doors and telling students and professors that the university was closed.  The medical buildings remained open, however.

The Washington Post described the gathering as “a huge, noisy picnic” and “a joyous coup.”  Gittens remembers a “calm atmosphere.” . . .

The changes to the disciplinary system were critical, Gittens remembered: “If they decided that a student was … committing something that was unbecoming of a Howard student, they had the full authority to put you out.  With no trial, no hearing, nothing.”

That didn’t sit well with many students, and it particularly rankled Gittens: “As someone who had to work to get money to go to school, I wasn’t a child anymore.”

But there was a more fundamental problem: Despite a student population that was at least 90 percent African-American, a common refrain among the protesters was “Howard is not a black university.”

By the 1960s, half of America’s black doctors and a quarter of its black lawyers were Howard graduates. The university was called “the black Harvard.”

But the curriculum wasn’t reflective of the students – there were no courses on black history.  The theatre department didn’t do works by black playwrights.  No jazz, blues or gospel performances were allowed in the fine arts building.

Virtually no black writers were taught in the literature classes, even though “we had some of the foremost people in the field teaching there,” Israel remembered.  “Sterling Brown, Arthur Davis … There were all kinds of teachers there who were equipped, and we could have had a robust program.”

Nabrit, the university president, had been quoted as saying that he wanted Howard to admit more white students.  Around this time, the trustees released a statement saying in part, “Howard is not destined to be a black university.”

The activist students at Howard considered that unacceptable.  Michael Harris, the president of the freshman class, said in the “Color Us Black!” documentary, “Howard University should serve another purpose other than preparing people to fill slots in white society.”

By March 21, the third day of the protest and second of the shutdown, . . . [p]rotesters in the administration building had grown to about 1,200, the Evening Star estimated, adding that students were rotating in and out of their dorm rooms to freshen up, and plates of food were being brought in.

The university also announced that all students had to be out of the dorms by the following day.  That didn’t endear them to the parents who had to drive, in some cases over rather long distances, to retrieve their kids.

A father from Hartford, Connecticut, who had to take the day off to head to Howard said, “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone from the administration.  All I can talk to are students, and now I’m against the administration and with the students.” . . .

The civil rights documentary “Eyes On the Prize” claims that one of the seismic events on the campus was the successful campaign of Robin Gregory for homecoming queen in 1966.  She had an Afro — a natural hairstyle that was modest by today’s standards, but jarring to those used to processed, straightened black hair.

From there, a black-awareness movement grew: In 1967, Gen. Lewis B. Hershey, director of the Selective Service was booed off the stage at Howard, with one protester shouting “America is the black man’s battleground.”  And earlier in March 1968 came the Charter Day protests.  It didn’t take long, however, for the movement to bump up against some of the more established features of Howard culture. . . .

Michael Harris, president of the freshman class, said the administrators were “content to shuffle, and they say ‘I shuffled; I bent. I kissed some feet. I made it.  You do the same thing, boy, and you’ll make it.’”

Another protester said, “Our black administration seems to think that … they are showing the great white father how good we are.  And the great white father is over there laughing at how stupid we are.”

But many of the students — though by no means all – saw the development of a black consciousness, as well as a connection with the surrounding black community in D.C., as part of Howard’s mission.

They also were among the first college students to see their campus as a microcosm, one where students, teachers and administrators should work to create the kind of world they wanted and not just prepare them for the world that was.

“Our perspective was that we should be about change, and not about replicating the status quo,” Israel said.  “Because the status quo was not beneficial to us as a people.” . . .

In the pre-dawn hours of Saturday, March 23, a deal was struck: Charges would be dropped against the 39 students involved in the Charter Day protests; the students got the student judiciary committee they wanted, and the next year, a seminar called “Toward a Black University” would be held at Howard to discuss curricula at the school, as well as other black colleges.  Nabrit would not resign; he planned to retire at the end of the next school year anyway.

After an hour of discussion and a voice vote, the students agreed to the deal.  It was announced that afternoon. . . .

There have been more than a few protests and sit-ins at Howard since then, most notably a 1974 protest over a tuition increase, a 1989 protest demanding that notorious political operative Lee Atwater resign from the board after his racist comments became public, and another as recently as 2015.  Gittens said he gets invitations to advise or be part of such actions, but stays away.  “They have to make their own decisions,” he said.

“But I do know that there are people with concerns and issues, and who are trying to find a way to make sure the university remains on the proper course. … The need for the kind of education and training that Howard is offering is still a major need in our community.”

Israel says now that Howard is a better place than it was.  She returned to earn a master’s degree in African studies from 1971 to 1973, and has visited a few times over the years.  “I think Howard’s come a long way, and there’s a consciousness there that didn’t happen before,” she said, adding, “black people in general, we have a better attitude about ourselves than we used to have.”

Gittens said the protest taught him some of the most important lessons he learned in college: “You’re called to make decisions; you’re called to make assessments; you’re called to be a leader; you’re called to learn in order to keep it going, and survive in some instances.  That’s the kind of experience that you can’t go to [just] any university to get.”

And he’s carried a few principles from his protest days with him throughout his life: “It’s hard to watch people mistreated … and sometimes you’ve got to put your body on the line.  You’ve just gotta say ‘No. I will not let this continue.’ …

“And that’s a feeling that’s risky, and it can cost, but at the end of the day, you feel as though you’ve lived a life that has made some contribution along the way.  And so you feel pretty good about your life.  I know I do.”

Just a bit more than a year ago Howard students once again disrupted a Charter Day celebration, this one marking the school’s 150th anniversary.  The issue was concern that the university was too comfortable with President Donald Trump, who had hosted Howard University President Wayne Frederick and other presidents of the nation’s historically black colleges and universities at a meeting earlier that week.

“The concerned students of HU Resist are here today to deliver a message,” said a student with a megaphone. “President Wayne Frederick, someone might have convinced you that money is more important than people.  We are asking you in this moment to choose us — to take a stand for us and to do right by us.”  The protesters represented Concerned Students, 1867, a group that called for university leadership to “renew its commitment to oppressed peoples.”  At the meeting with Trump that Frederick attended, the President signed an executive order transferring oversight of a federal HBCU program to the White House.  He said it meant the schools would be “a priority in the White House, an absolute priority.”  Subsequent events suggest that this was, at best, yet another example of Trump’s empty bluster.

“Students go to HBCUs for a reason. They want their university to stand for something,” said Howard student government president Allyson Carpenter.  “When you have a Donald Trump in the White House, what do you stand for now?  Is it the same song that you were singing last year, or does it change?”

Still, as Stanley Nelson, Emmy and Peabody award-winning director and producer of the feature-length documentary  “Tell Them We Are Rising: The Story of Black Colleges and Universities,” wrote in the New York Times, “The Trump administration’s missteps have helped to put H.B.C.U.s in the national spotlight — revealing a national lack of understanding of these schools’ history, exposing the difficult position that H.B.C.U. administrators find themselves in, and highlighting the moral leadership exhibited by H.B.C.U. students.  In the current climate, the need for institutions that prioritize a quality educational and social climate for African-Americans is as important as ever.”  I couldn’t agree more, which is one reason for us to honor and learn from the Howard protesters of 1968 — and 2017 and beyond.