V 10Th3 Daily Tor HeelFriday, November 21. 1SSO O J Gicr.GE Shad?ouj, Editor D.N'iTA Jamis, Managing Editor Da ad Kutrow, Associate Editor Pam KntiY, Associate Editor Karen Rovouy, News' Editor ' Linda Brown, University Editor Martha Waggoner, City Editor Makx MuKsm, S&t crj National Editor Bill F'.ILDS, Sprit Editor James Alexander, Features Editor Tcm Mocxz. ! rrj Editor Scott Shasfe, Photography Editor Ann Pett.es, Weekender Editor i 9 -1 i- V I i ! ' ' H 8Sth year of editorial freedom -ji I unimg inwara rirsl of two parts Sometimes the question of black white relations seems so complicated that it's frustrating. Students who sincerely want to break down remaining racial barriers often find themselves uncertain of how to best achieve their goal. For example, complete integration is one answer some students would suggest. But, as the blackwhite series this week indicates (see Page 1), many blacks do not want total integration. Neither do many whites. The problem cannot be resolved without understanding the motivation behind this "voluntary segregation." On Tuesday night Black Muslim Nationalist Louis Farrakhan shared his dream of an independent black nation in America with hundreds of students. It is, however, a dream born out of- bitterness and frustration. He simply accepts that blacks will never achieve an equal place in a white society. His By JOHN DRESQHER The U.S. Senate passed a bill Tuesday that prohibits the UJS. Department of Justice from asking courts to use busing to achieve racial balance in public schools. At the moment, it is difficult to tell what the effects of the bill would be if it were signed by President Carter and became law. The Justice Department has initiated many busing cases in the past and some feel that pro-busina Dolicies will be hurt deeply by the elimination of the department's involvement. Others feel that the bill's effect would not be substantial. The bill only limits the Justice Department from initiating action; it does not limit the courts from making rulings that would enforce busing. Professor Joel Schwartz of the UNC political science department is one who feels that the Senate's bill would not be effective in drastically reducing busing. But Schwartz said he felt the bill has other implications. "It's more important symbolically," Schwartz said. "In terms of large-scale change, blacks have had to depend on the executive branch to change the status ) z- 1 I ' ""r . i 1 ' (j - - , . if - - lJJi) y 'separate but equol" policies of 20 years ago. "If you don't take compensatory measures, then it's a lie to say that you are not engaging in discrimination and they ought to admit it," Schwartz said. views are vastly different from those of students on campus who want quo. Now the Senate is telling them 'you cultural separation because of pride in their heritage a phenomenon not peculiar to blacks or other ethnic groups., However, a segregation stemming from hatred, exclusivism or selfishness can only stifle positive advancement. We do not take the dim view of blackwhite relations that Minister Farrakhan espouses, but it is not always difficult to understand from where the foundation of his vision comes. It is built in places like Chapel Hill. A poll taken recently by The Daily Tar Heel shows that more blacks than whites consider the University's efforts to integrate inadequate; more blacks than whites believe more should be done to recruit black students; more blacks than whites advocate a more extensive tutoring program for blacks. Still, there are differences among blacks as a group, too. Some blacks favor the abolishment of all organizations that do not meet strict integration requirements, but most do not. Others think blacks should receive preferential treatment in both admissions and graduate requirements, but the vast majority do not. What is increasingly evident as we enter the 1980s is the emerging differences of opinions blacks and whites have about the future. Blacks believe the struggle for equal opportunity has just begun. More and more whites contend programs like Affirmative Action have wiped the slate clean and have created an equitable society. These two opinions are destined to clash, and are certain to become a focal point of this country's attention and energies in the 1950s. However, we disagree with those who consider the slate clean. We believe blacks seek nothing other than their due: to be accepted as equals. A history of discrimination has impeded blacks from achieving this goal. Statistics further illustrate this at Carolina. Only 7.9 percent of the students on this campus are black. Segregation still exists, much of it a result of feeling unwanted and insecure. This feeling of isolation has caused many blacks to turn inward as a group for social activities, for housing, and for friendship, Thjs turning inward is not as much voluntary as it is necessary. It is the dream of Minister Farrakhan in microcosm. And it is a sure sign that blackwhite relations on this campus are hardly acceptable. can't look to the federal government as a possible force for change. , They (the Senate) are symbolically sending a message." The message is not a good one for blacks or whites. Senators like Jesse Helms, R-N.C, and Strom Thurmond, R-S.C, are saying that the issue is not desegregation, but simply whether a child should have to go to a school which isn't closest to his home. That reasoning is a gross simplification of the true issue. The issue is integration and whether we seriously want it, and it is doubtful that Helms or Thurmond want much more than the By restricting busing, we decrease the possibility that neighborhoods themselves will become integrated, and consequently the possibility that public school education can be somewhat equal for all socio-economic classes. Other integration attempts have been made, but they simply don't work. Busing has not, as Helms has said, "tormented little children and in the process destroyed the quality of education in America." In fact, busing in many cities has effectively achieved its purposes. I U 1 J t I --"' js:;f5 ctar-ts, i:$ to IICSKCI3 in Charlie Donnelly is the principal of Quail Hollow Junior High in Charlotte, a landmark city for integration achieved through busing. Although Dannelly's school is 30 percent black and in an upper middle class white neighborhood 'Dannelly's said relations between black and white students were the best they had ever been. "In my school, their relationship is great," Donnelly said. "If there is a misunderstanding between students, it's because of immaturity, not because of color. We don't have racial slurs anymore. I think you'll fuM it that way in most of the city." . Busing was once a sore subject in Charlotte, but that has changed with time, Dannelly said. "We've probably achieved more than anyone in the country. It goes to show that busing will work if people want it to. I don't think anyone is opposed to the purposes and distances cf tusirg." Ah, the distances. This, prcruib'y, is what Helms is referring to when he speaks cf tormented children. It is true that some children are bused long distances when there is a school near by, but both Dannelly and Schwartz said that children riding long distances in school buses was nothing new. Children from the country have always had long bus trips, Donnelly said. It is city children who ore most affected by the distances of busing policies. These children arc often black and yet it seems whites are the ones most opposed to busing, usually for the same reason as Helms and Thurmond. They really want segregation. Perhaps busing's greatest achievements have not been in schools, but in housing. A two-year study by Diana Pearce of the Catholic University's Center for National Policy Review showed that busing had increased the rate cf integration in many cities by as much 32.7 percent (Charlotte had the highest rate in the study). White families have realized that they cannot escape integrated schools by fleeing to the suburbs, so they have begun to remain in cities. Race relations and cities are better for it. Busing is not always the solution. Los Angeles was an example given by Schwartz of a city where busing hasn't worked. It does hove shortcomings. Yet, it remains one of the most effective ways to integrate blacks and whites in this country. Carter would do well to veto the anti-busing legislation. The bill clearly is at least a symbolic, effort to turn bock the clock to a time cf segregation we don't want to see again. John Drescher, a junior journalism major from Raleigh, is an editorial assistant for The Daily Tax Heel. Campus amoke-in By MELANIE SILL D eja vu Standing on the steps of South Building Thursday afternoon, one UNC alumnus remarked that the "Rally for Justice" brought back some memories for him. "The last time I was here protesting was May of 1970," he said. But he added that there were a few major differences between the 1970 protest and Thursday's protest of both the Greensboro Klan-Nazi trial verdict and the resurgence of racism. For one thing, the 1970 protest was in response to the Cambodia bombings and the killing of four students at Kent State by National Guardsmen. It was a bit larger, too. "They had a big stage set up in front of South Building, and it was filled up, and students were sitting all the way back to Wilson Library," the alumnus said. Most of the protesters stayed in their spots for two nights before many of them left to protest in Washington, D.C. People who have been around the University for a few years say Thursday's protest, which brought more than 800 people to South Building, was the largest UNC has seen since the 1970 gathering. Though the actions being protested in 1970 and Thursday were different, the emotions that were their impetus were no doubt similar. In both instances, students feared for their futures, and felt frustrated by government actions and social tensions, but were united by a determination to effect a change. Many historians now say student protests of the Vietnam War helped end it. Let us hope that some day historians will point to student activism in the '80s as an agent that helped stem the tide of racism that has emerged at the beginning of this decade. It's been five days since the last marijuana cigarette was finished, but the air at UNC still hasn't cleared of reaction to Sunday's Yippie-sponsored smoke-in on the Carolina campus. Phone calls and letters began coming in to UNC and state officials, including Gov. Jim Hunt, after television stations and newspapers reported on the event. Although only about 200 people lit up in the Pit, the sight of pot smokers breaking the law in front of television cameras, newspaper reporters and passers-by apparently angered some parents and University supporters. Locally "I've responded by saying that the University does not condone breaking the law," said Chancellor Christopher C. Fordham III. "I think they (some critics) have been misled by thinking that this was a big thing, when it wasn't." Fordham's downplaying of the smoke-in's significance was in line with the way the UNC administration handled the event. No uniformed police officers were present Sunday, and University officials were reluctant to say much about the smoke-in. . "The event was not scheduled and it was not sponsored by a group qualified to assemble on or use University property," Fordham said. "If it had been a scheduled event, obviously the campus authorities would have been present to keep order." The smoke-in itself was a peaceful gathering, with little activity other than conversation, pot-smoking and a little Frisbee-throwing. Yippie organizers John Ganga and Ruth Greene said they were glad the campus police had stayed away. What Gonga and Greene would't say, though, was that the lack of officiol public attention to the smoke-in took away much of the drama and impact of the event. Before the smoke-in, sponsors said they wanted to protest and draw attention to what they saw as illegitimate and repressive drug laws. Ganga also said he wanted to help create a feeling of unity and solidarity among young people on campus. The University undoubtedly wanted to avoid what it may have seen as a far more serious possibility than a few. people many of them unrelated to the University smoking marijuana. Much worse would have been confrontations and perhaps even violence between police and demonstrators violence that would have been virtually uncontrollable and could have led to hostility and misunderstandings later. Frederic Schroeder Jr., director of the Division of Student Affairs Office of Student Life, said several meetings of administrators and police representatives had been held to decide how to handle the smoke-in. "The persons within the University who- were ' discussing this were attentive to possible results of overreaction," Schroeder said. "That was something we wanted to avoid." Schroeder said most of those who called his office to complain or express concern had seemed to understand his explanation of the administration's actions. "Some of the media, perhaps, were not aware of the nonstudent status of many of the more visible participants in the smoke-in. Simply in watching the -film of the event, one got the impression that there . were more students there than there actually were. "In my view, these were persons who had no connection to the University community at all," he said. Though there were outsiders present Sunday, many of those at the smoke-in were students. The feeling of unity and solidarity that Ganga had hoped for was not apparent, though the Yippie organizers sold they were pleased with the smoke-in. Ganga later said protest of marijuana laws wasn't the only reason for sponsoring the rally. "When you say you're going to have a smoke-in, the press jumps all over it," Gonga said. "We knew that if we just hod a Rock Agoinst Rocism, we wouldn't get any publicity for it, so we decided to come in and have a smoke-in first. Ganga was right about the publicity. Several North Carolina newspapers carried stories before the smoke in, and at least one commercial television station sent a crew Sunday. Instead of drawing support for the Rock Against Racism held in the New Tin Can Tuesday night, though, the smoke-in may have kept many students from coming to the second Yippie-sponsored event on campus. . If the smoke-in were viewed as a contest of strategy, the University emerged as the victor. Despite the criticism voiced this week by those outside the University, a potentially explosive situation was defused. 'We know that if we just had a Rock Against Racism, we wouldn 't get any publicity for it, so we decided to come in and have a smoke-in first. ' John Gansa As a form of protest, the smoke-in was only marginally successful. Demonstrators broke the law and weren't arrested for it, but there was little cohesion among those ' committing the crime smoking marijuana seemed the only common purpose and little effect on the lawmakers who hove power over marijuana legislation. Perhaps the worst consequence of staging the tmoke in was the undermining of the value of the Rock Against Racism, which was sponsored by Students Against Militarism, the National Rock Against Racism and the N.C. Yippies. Ganga and others were happy with the turnout and participation at the RAR. but several students shored the Impression expressed by I lorry Woods, who showed up at the Tin Can Tuesday night. "They're (RAR sponsors) trying to relate to the public like this, but the only people who show up are the pot-heads," Wood said. Melanie Sill, a senior journalism major from Wcipahu, Hawaii, is an editorial assistant for The Dally Tcr I led. o dp M51M i hrs irrm ledia give Covington ouch good ply ? 9 -. By BRAD KUTROW Harold Covington is an incongruous, almost comic frure in his khaki uniform, leather gunbelts and swastika armband. He affects a fearsome appearance vulh a bushy, brown beard, sideburns and severe ure-rimmed jJaM.cs. He speaks of anachronisms like "The Aryan people" and "a racist Mecca." Why, then, is Harold Covington in the news? Covin;:.!o:i is the outspoken leader of the stole's Notions! Socialist Party, the Nais. He is an officer in the national liin irty z uc'S. Since he crpinLred i!:? its!- poup in 1976, Covington has iv.;, :.!eJ for spce in the news columns of state newspapers, and he has succeeded m an ahrnins number of Durin;- the trul of ix Ku ICb KLn-i-n N-i for t!.e ihootir-s cf five Cor.nuutmt Workers Party i 1 :o J I N ;r ' .r, .., !, t r t ' : v -v ,..!!. v,..i a rc- y v of vc!.:.-f..! for I i"t :i.ru-. ,' t! - tri !. ; ' J a l' ry ! '. : ?. i r. "J if . i P: f r v :re .! if the verdict. Covington's assessment of the decision acquitting the Nozis and Klansmen as "fantastic" was mentioned in most state newspaper accounts, and he made the Washington Post, with a picture, earlier this week. The Daily Tar llccl ran two pictures cf Covington at his press conference in Raleigh on Wednesday and printed a lengthy feature story on him last November. Covington's position as a leader in the tiny Nazi Party does not really lend much credence to his comments. In North Carolina, there are Nazi units in seven counties Wake, Forsyth, Richmond, Rockingham, Johnston, Mitchell and Harnett each with a handful of members. Yet the Nazis frequently male news, and Forsyth County leader Rc'ind Wood uascmcng those charged with the Greensboro shootings. The skill CoUngton ib for mampuUtir.2 the media may his c been ho-.d during his dys cn newspapers. His tzd-A beliefs or.d tbi'ity to nulc headlines fir4,! emerged when he was a student a Chrpc! H.ll Hi4-h S.hocl. He cd.tcr ct tne sc:;ooi re 1 senior v.:r, and t oih developed and 1, h x ub 1 jr.rs. V i - - 1 v;n mar.?;;." r.r-.g.Terth r.. :.i w ,:s Ob :! u d.r I:i I i CV... . .1 r. 4 classmates as threatening. The editorials he wrote for the school paper and his pieces for the ihcn-Chapel I till Weekly seem to reflect this racism. After high school Covington floated through the Army, Rhodesia and Los Angeles, serving briefly as the editor cf the jNazi Party mazarine, White Power. Since-his return to North Carolina in 1976. Covington has w orked to build the state Nazis into a political force and ran last year for mayor of Raleigh. He also ran last spring in the Republican primary for attorney general, despite the repeated disavowals cf support by GO? officials, and took a surprisingly large percentage cf the vote from winner Keith Snyder. Most observers attributed fus f c.tivc success to the trtfertunot? fact that Snyder's name sounded mere malevolent and "Naei-UU" than Covington's. eltill, CV. io; ton manages to turn i p in rew$ stories. This is largely due to the cult; tous r.:.t d,. Fditurs ted ly the t ' f his party's - tt rcg--rs rc ' f f )i i-r - Co.; '..'.i press co-.f ::- ee rr.ces for t .;. ::r io;y. On Ti ' y, Cr-hrd i:h wl tie t'o-i a ',J .y for lb: Nads ;o j Klo o. :.i to. u.J, u Grrrr.sbofo. Covington outlined his plan for the state. He intends to create a "Carolina Free State" separate from the rest cf the notion, which would "serve as a homeland and haven for all white men and women of all Aryan peoples." The Carolina would be promoted as the "racist Mecca" cf the w orld, and white racists from around the country would, Covington hopes, come to Carolina. Docs a plan this outrageous, with so little hope cf success, in fact deserve any mention in the state's newspapers? Met editors, reluctantly, would agree that it does. The only thing worse than overplaying a member. rfj he right- cr I:ft-winj fringe like Covington would be to ignore him. In order to achieve these objective! and broaden his group's appeal, Covington f lans to change its r.aer.e to zt irt y . huJ - t- J I . uniforms and Third-Reich re;:.bi. H; has even pledged to to underground to avoid "persecution" from the state and federal governments. Jcurr.aliiti, ho ever, should r.at be ccr.er.t to l.t Covington wander trcunj ur.r.n;IceJ in right f.e!J. As Icrg z peeple lr.o.v wh:t he's op to, he con l b : i g? 1 3 v cry r, :.:.!:. o- ; . i II: !. ; a i. ";r'b ilgro'J Cv.i : r r . i r ' . sh v

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