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Balanced Budget page 3
Editorials page 6
Lou Harris profile page 7
Monday, August 23, 1982
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qw stodent priority
By KERR Y DEROCHI
Last April, students from college campuses state
wide were invited to Chapel Hill to discuss issues fac
ing women and picnic on the University's shaded
lawn.
A handful of students showed up.
Schedule conflicts and other commitments had got
ten in the way.
Just one month later, these excuses were echoed by
other college students and women's rights activists
statewide. In the first week of June, they had watched
the N.C. Senate kill the Equal Rights Amendment,
and pointed to heavy exam schedules and English
term papers that made them miss an ERA rally or
meeting.
And 20 days later, they watched the deadline for
ERA nationwide ratification pass, and shook their
heads over the missed recruitment and organization.
They just hadn't had the time.
"College students are looking through rose-colored
glasses," Terry Schooley, president of the state
chapter of the National Organization for Women,
says. "Women have real opportunities until they get
out into the work force. They've not faced
discrimination. It's hard to break a women's
bubble."
Today's women's rights movement was born of the
civil rights marches in the late 60s and early 70s. In re
cent years, attention was focused on the Equal Rights
Amendment, thought to be the cornerstone of the
movement.
But the amendment's failure did not signify that
there was no need for ERA that women now were
treated equally.
Rather, the amendment's failure demonstrated the
inability of many women to go against traditional
society. Caught up in a society that has protected and
pampered women, but denied them equality, they
found themselves unwilling to fight for change.
. They became short-sighted,, .
Small gains had been won along the way. WOnlen"
began filling fields traditionally reserved for men.
) They began feeling a false sense of security that is en
' couraged by over-emphasized success stories and
twisted statistics. Women had the best of both worlds,
they thought.
They were wrong.
According to a recent article in Time magazine, on
ly 5 percent of the executives in the top 50 American
companies are women. Eighty percent of the women
take home a paycheck with 66 cents to every dollar a
man receives. Women make up 70 percent of
classroom teachers and receive an average of $3,000
less in salary than their male counterparts.
"Jobs on good authority from the forefathers con
vey respect, status and community well-being," the
article in Time says." The foremothers were ap
parently not consulted on the subject.
Kerry DeRochi, a senior English and journalism ma
jor from Greensboro, is associate editor of The Daily
Tar Heel.
"It is difficult for a woman to find status in a pay
envelope that is substantively thinner than a male co
worker." The false security has persisted, leading to a lack of
involvement by women at UNC, a university that has
prided itself on producing many of today's leaders.
Many students become trapped, unable to see beyond
Friday's mid-term exam or the weekend's football
game in Kenan Stadium.
Informational tables have lined the concrete area in
front of the Carolina Union. There, workers from dif
ferent organizations are armed with pamphlets,
newsletters and T-shirts in an effort to rally support.
The tables are 'usually ignored. The pamphlets fill
the nearest trash can.
The small area outside the Association for Women
Students office in the union often remains empty dur
ing the afternoon, the quiet interrupted only by
students requesting information for a freshman term
paper.
"Women on campus don't know that much,"
Rebecca Tillet, AWS chairperson said. "A lot of peo
ple have a really false feeling that they're going to be
okay. They just don't want to hear it; they don't want
to know."
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The 1972 headlines in 77i? ItazYy Tar ee tell of
new gains made by women students who then com
posed about 38 percent of the student population.
With a new ID sticker provided by the office of Stu
dent Affairs, women no longer were restricted by cur
fews. But on the same day, another headline reads,
"Women trail in faculty hiring." Although the
percentage of women students had increased, the
number of women faculty members had not.
Today, more than 54 percent of the UNC students
are women. Less than 20 percent of the faculty
members are females.
The result of the unequal numbers has been a
vacuum in available role models for women students.
"My major concern for young women today is
most of them do not leave college seeking work and a
career," Mary .Turner. Lang,' former director; of
"Women's Studies.' "They are still 'committed to the r
idea of marriage and that the men will take care of
them."
In this environment, supporters of women's rights
do not stand a chance. If they're for equal jobs and
pay for women, then they're categorized as against
the traditional family; they are trying to break up the
American home.
"Women are afraid of the word, feminist," Lane
says. "That's the word that is threatening to them. If .
you are a feminist you are kind of an ultra-liberal,
marching, bra-burning type of person."
These stereotypes have limited the influence of stu
dent groups ranging from the Women's Liberation in
the early 70s to today's AWS. The average woman
finds it much easier to characterize the feminists as
undesirables rather than question why they themselves
do not have the courage to fight.
"(The stereotype's) been a real easy excuse for peo
ple not to get involved," Tillet says. "When I think of
See WOMEN on page 2
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"College students are looking through rose-colored
glasses. Women have real opportunities until they get out
into the workforce. They've not faced discrimination . . . "
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King's legacy lives in church
By LINDA ROBERTSON
Ebenezer Baptist Church is a rather nondescript place
of worship. Except for the curious neon cross above the
front doors and the stained glass windows, the old brick
building could pass for any other in downtown Atlanta.
There are no elegant white pillars, no polished marble por
tico or towering steeple. Across the street at a housing
project, abandoned grocery carts graze in the dust.
But slowly the realization comes because the church is
surrounded by reminders: the Martin Luther King, Jr.
Community Center, Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard,
the Martin Luther King, Jr. Birthplace, the Martin Luther
King, Jr. Center for Social Change and the Rev. Martin
Luther King memorial,! inscribed simply, "1929-1968,
'Free at last, Free at last. Thank God Almighty I'm Free
at Last.' "
Ebenezer was around long before any of the other land
marks and it still stands as the most vivid monument to
King's work. The essence of his message was preached in
Ebenezer's sanctuary.
The church was founded in 1896 by Rev. John Parker.
A.D. Williams, King's grandfather, was minister until his
son took over. From 1960-68, King, Sr. and King, Jr.
were co-pastors. Martin Luther King, Sr. is now pastor
emeritus and still speaks at Ebenezer occasionally.
On Sundays, every pew is full at Ebenezer. The church
attracts people from all over the world. As they step in
side, they are greeted by ushers, a huge photograph of
King's funeral procession and the unmistakable aura of
history.
"Initially, I felt a little fear coming here, but then I
realized I'm just a man, as he was, doing God's work,"
Timothy McDonald, assistant pastor at the church, said.
"There are those who feel the church is a sacred shrine.
Ministers invited to preach here are moved by the oppor
tunity to stand in the same place as Dr. King."
This Sunday, Aug. 8, McDonald is preaching in his
ebullient, lyrical style a sermon titled "I Can't Come
Down," derived from the scripture lesson, Nehemiah
6:1-9. The congregation responds to his emotional
crescendoes with applause and shouts of "Amen!"
"We never seem to have enough time," McDonald
said. "What made the civil rights movement work was
what Martin Luther King advocated peaceful patience
and timing. Now we want to be called black, but we're
still living on C.P.T. Colored Peoples' Time. But time is
of the essence. We must rebuild, like Nehemiah, and
when he was asked to leave his work, he said, I can't
come down.' You say the same thing. When you're being
pulled down into the valley of hatred and injustice, tell
them you can't come down until your work is finished."
The civil rights movement is far from finished and the
message at Ebenezer is tinged by urgency, by the sense
that the momentum of the King era cannot be allowed to
slip into inertia.
"Blacks won some of the battles of the '60s and were all
too ready to believe we won the war," said Rev. Joseph
Lowery, director of the Southern Christian Leadership
Conference, which King founded. "The gains of the '60s
have been eroded, particularly our economic gains. Black
organizations lost allies, lost the media, lost funds. Yet the
median income of blacks is only slightly higher than it was
in the '60s. We're trying to set people in motion again. We
measure progress in terms of movement."
Ebenezer serves as more than just a spiritual home base
for the civil rights movement. The leaders of the congrega
tion are actively pursuing racial equality.
"Certainly the focus on civil rights is still here because
we believe the church serves a multiplicity of needs besides
its religious function," said Thomas Grant, chairman of
the Church Life and Program Committee. "Things are
still moving forward, but not at the pace we'd like to see.
Equity in terms of employment is the most disappointing
area."
Most blacks agreed the emphasis has shifted from the
political to the economic arena.
"I think we have entered the second phase of the civil
rights movement," said Margaret Bush Wilson, chairman
of the NAACP, during a speech in Atlanta. "We achieved
relative success during the legal and legislative phase, but
now we must be concerned with the economic phase."
Phillip Finch, superintendent of the church school at
Ebenezer, remains optimistic about racial progress, but he
said the movement is at a lull now.
"The country as a whole is not prospering and that has
a lot to do with putting civil rights on the back burner,"
he said. "I also don't sense any real desire to get involved
on the part of today's young people. They have more of a ,
benefactor attitude rather than the survivor attitude that
was prevalent in the early '70s."
Leadership, however; is one thing that is not lacking,
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Food fight
University may take over system
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Martin Luther King Jr.
although today it is spread among a number of people.
"It's very important that we not invest all our hopes
with one person," McDonald said. "There was a setback
when Dr. King was killed and I think he felt uneasy being
identified as the sole leader."
In Atlanta, Ebenezer and the 23 acres of the Martin
Luther King, Jr. historical district remain as a tribute and
an institution. Those who attend services at the church
leave with the feeling that King's dream will someday
come true.
"I grew up in Ebenezer and heard Dr. King speak from
age 7 to 15. Lots of people visit here and sometimes a feel
ing of exploitation seeps in, but it's necessary to have this
place," Finch said. "I had a terrible experience once with
a man who came in and asked if this was Martin Luther
King's church, and I said, very dogmatically, no, it's the
Lord's church. But I realized that Ebenezer has always
been part of the civil rights struggle and will always be
identified with Martin Luther King."
Linda Robertson, a senior English and journalism major
from Miami, Ha., b sports editor oThe Daily Tar Heel.
By DA VID McKINNON
When the current upheavals in campus .
food services end in 1985, the University
will be getting a renovated Union snack
bar, an improved Pine Room and an entire
new dining facility in Lenoir Hall.
The University also may be getting itself
back into the food service business.
In interviews last week administrators
acknowledged there is a distinct possibility
the University will replace the current food
contract, ARA Services Inc., as the cam
pus food supplier by 1985. Student Body
President Mike Vandenbergh said it's
more like a certainty. If the University
does take over the system, it will have
come full circle in the single worst aspect
of campus living over the last decade. And
even if it doesn't students will be footing a
considerable bill $4.3 million over
the next decade, mostly to bring food ser
vice on campus more in line with what ad
ministrators want for the school.
' The University quit cooking for students
13 years ago, and food service on campus
"took a real nosedive," said Charles An
tle, associate vice chancellor for business,
"and it's never really recovered. Your
generation (of students) has been telling
new students food service is not that great.
And it's not."
Food service provided by three different
contractors all nationally known
caterers has come up short consistently.
Small portions, uninteresting or downright
inedible selections, long lines, surly service
and numbing institutional surroundings
have been chief in the litany of complaints.
Chase Cafeteria, a design-award winner
David McKinnon is a second year la w stu
dent from Wadesboro.
when it was built in 1965, has been a
disaster to operate from the start, with
user levels dipping as low as 350 a day last
spring. For the first time since its opening,
Chase will be closed this fall, and Universi
ty officials have no intention of reopening
it in the foreseeable future. If the re
mainder of the new food service agenda is
approved by state officials over the next
few months, the other major changes will
be the renovated Union snack bar and
Pine Room and the new Lenoir Hall facili
ty. Contractors haven't had a picnic on
campus themselves. Each has had to put
up with dizzying drops in the number of
students bailing out of meal plans between
first and second semesters. The first con
tractor, SAGA Inc., which took over from
the University in the fall of 1969, took off
in the spring of 1970 after losing well over
$150,000. The next, Servomation Inc., lost
about $150,000 its first year and kept on
losing for two more before managing to
clear a profit for a few years, and then got
outbid for renewal of its contract. The
winner of the 1980 bidding, ARA Services,
has racked up disastrous losses of $225,000
and $100,000 in its first two years on gross
receipts of about $1.5 million annually.
Administrators put the blame on one
factor.
"Antiquated facilities and equipment.
Let me say inadequate facilities and anti
quated equipment," said Donald Boulton,
vice chancellor for student affairs, and a
prime mover behind the renovation plan.
But University officials have consistent
ly pushed plans for solving the food opera
tion problems that are considerably more
elaborate and expensive - than those
put forward by Student Government. Not
See FOOD on page 2