Viking_Yearbook_67

124-127 Speakers came, films and paintings were shown, but Educational Activities had problems. Some laid the blame on the “system” ; others on the per­ sonalities in it. But from all sides the conclusion was the same; something was wrong up on the Fourth Floor. To students working on the Activity Boards, it was the reams of red tape, the paternalism of the advisors and the control of Dean of Students Channing Briggs over student funds. To faculty members it was the encroachment of Activities into academic areas and the proliferating power of the dean’s office. Set up in 1963, Activities is divided into four boards: Aca­ demic Affairs, Publications, Community Affairs and Social Recreation. These are responsible to the Executive Board com­ posed of members from each. Students man the boards along with a staff of five Activities advisors. The chain of command runs from the advisors to Activities Co-ordinator Mrs. Henry L. Corbett to Dean of Students Briggs. He is the man delegated responsibility for the more than $100,000 a year operation. The Administrative Code of the State of Oregon makes the president of a college or university ultimately responsible for its expenditures. College President Branford P. Millar made it clear that in the area of Activities Briggs had that responsi­ bility, not students and faculty. The paternalism of Activities advisors and administrative red tape came under fire from student board chairmen. Four of them quit. “I felt as though I was butting my head against a brick wall,” commented Pamela Erickson who resigned as chairman of the Community Affairs Board. “There’s so much red tape and so many needless formalities. Students are treated as though they can’t assume responsibility.” Jeanne Bailey, former Academic Board Chairman, said, “Advisors tell stu­ dents what’s to be done. Activities is a challenge for those who enjoy fighting Mickey Mouse red tape.” Student Body Presi­ dent Joe Uris refused to fill the vacant seats. “The whole thing is absurd,” he concluded. 128-129 PSC Publications made it through another year. There was one casualty; a new literary magazine that was to be called Yin Yang made it to the manuscript stage when the editor David Josephson goofed and sought college approval of the work. The manuscript wandered from College Editor Nancy Stuart to Mark Howard, director of Public Services; to PSC President Branford P. Millar; to Dean of Students Chan­ ning Briggs; to the student-faculty Publications Board. The board balked, the manuscript disappeared, but Dave Josephson is reportedly alive and well. The Vanguard struck with the last issue of winter term. Nobody noticed it was gone because it wouldn’t have been there during vacation anyway. Fortunately, the downtown media played it up well, and Editor Bill Weissert began to get fan mail; he was on the 6:30 news so many times. A reconcili­ ation emerged from an “executive conference” between Weis­ sert and Millar and the Vanguard came back after a week’s lapse to start its first twice-weekly publication. The yearbook. The Viking, edited by David Harriman, and the literary magazine. The Review, edited by Robin Tibbets, had their own problems, but were so overshadowed by the Publications Board, the Vanguard, and Yin Yang that they managed to avoid publicity. 130-135 Elections 1967-68—Candidates for Presidency were Rod Barrett, George Clark, Tim Dorosh, Pat Heade, John Ross, Larry Smith. I t was a choice between “love” and “responsibility” that the voters decided in the Student Body Elections this year. The two heavy slates of Tim Dorosh (responsibility) and Larry Smith (love) raised comment from the Oregonian and the Journal. Dorosh was supported by the Business Community and Smith by the Vanguard and Joe Uris. Much of the fight was about the school’s “image.” The Dorosh campaign was against communists and Hippies but Smith’s group loved everybody. The issue was a hot one and was decided in Dorosh’s favor. Dorosh received the responsibility and Smith the last word. He quoted Tennyson, “ ’Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” 136-139 A year passed in Vietnam . . . “Great progress,” said President Johnson back from Guam. “Immoral and illegal,” harangued Senator Wayne Morse. A quarter of a million Vietnamese children dead, reported Ram­ parts magazine. Some felt it was not worth the death of one child. On the night of September 27 hundreds of students took part in a demonstration against Vice President Hubert Humphrey outside the Sheraton Motor Inn. Thirty-one were arrested. “I sat down on the driveway. I did it in full awareness that I was breaking the law . . . I did it from my own conscience.” In the Park Blocks sixty students and faculty kept a weekly peace vigil to express sorrow for the loss of life in Vietnam. The protesters were not the majority. Students left school to join the Service; many protested the “semi-riots.” Most said nothing at all. . . . a year passed in Vietnam. 140-145 When you become a senior, you start thinking about what you’re going to do. You have to earn a living. Some stu­ dents go into business. Dress shops, small businesses, even railroads are some of the favorites. Most of the time students seem to try to ignore the problem. Most students who are seniors are over 21, and the taverns around the school are often full. As long as they stand. The Chocolate Moose, the Montgomery Gardens, and The Cheer­ ful Tortoise are likely to be the popular places in the area. Some students go on to grad school. One of them is Leila Saad. She is in the Theater Arts Department and one of Portland’s youngest directors. “Sets and costumes are unim­ portant,” she says, “the things that count are the actors and the scripts.” Leila will go on at PSC as a graduate assistant. Some students are here forever and many will remember Gordon Clark, the unofficial school photographer. His careful eyes measure and catch the world we live in. Seniors go. Fresh­ man come, PSC goes on. 113