For the next two hours, we're no longer just Brooklyn College students. We're movers, shakers, and idealists. We're radicals with an agenda. "College Not Combat!" I
yell. Some of the others look at me and I wonder what they're thinking. Lisa, Ellen, Terri, and more signing up individuals, going for what they believe. A part of me is
deeply moved and unshaken when some students say, "I'm for the war". We are not. So we continue onward with our petition and
our ideas that some ridicule & others simply ignore.
I sigh deeply when 3:30 p.m. rolls around. I've got to hit class and leave the others. I say my last farewells and walk away looking back only once. In that momentary
glimpse of my new found comrades (oh sorry, did I use a "commie" word?), I know that this semester is going to be historic. We're doing something great here.
Congratulations to everyone who came that day, you guys made it work. I only hope this article does some justice to our combined efforts because the story of September
17th is not my story to tell but one of unity and cooperation.
TaLk BaCk!
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Movers and Shakers
I'm running, I'm late -- or so I think. I get in front of Whitehead Hall and see no one there but the tables we reserved sure are. Checking my cellphone, I start
heading towards Prof. Menser's office to pick up some of our "vintage" B.C.A.W. gear. Terri phoned me ahead and let me know that she had a class so this B.C.A.W.
vet is rip, roaring, and ready to go.
Along the way I see Heather & some other B.C.A.W. members carrying the necessary supplies -- it's definitely a site for sore
eyes. We exchange greetings and -- by now -- my heart is pounding with nervous energy and excitement. I did some tabling last
semester and I loved the thrill of going up to complete strangers and hearing their opinions. No, they weren't complete strangers.
These were my colleagues, my fellow students, people with their own stories just waiting to be told. Romantic, no?
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