Stanford University - Quad Yearbook (Palo Alto, CA)

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crates and the poles that will eventually be the fuel for the Big Game bonfire. Now kids are using it as a fort. There are burrs all over the bottom of Lake Lag. They catch on your socks when you go walking down there. Leafletters are still prowling White Plaza, telling you to work for Riles, or Tunney, or to vote for their Student Senate candidate. But there are no noon rallies any more. There are problem sets to do. Books to read. Thoughts to think. So it goes. Freshmen are well into their new gran'falIoons. Freshman dorms, Western Civ lthat isn't really Western Civl, Freshman seminars, all the faces that will keep reappearing for the next three years. And there are more gran'falloons to come-overseas groups, labs-more faces, more acquaintances. Older students are passing those faces on Quad, smiling with vague recognition, and trying to remember which gran'fallon that face belonged to. Last year there was the lVloratorium. This year there are the elections. Last year hundreds turned out to choose between the black and the white, and say no, we do not agree. This year there is the greyness of reality, of men who are sort of good and sort of bad, the greyness of having no absolutes. Well, even if there are no absolutes, there still are problem sets to do, there still are books to read, there still are assignments to finish. So it goes. l wandered into the dining room the other day, insipid, uninspired, to see a familiar bearded figure bent over his books. I asked what he'd like to be doing, what would turn him on at that point in time. He looked up, thought a few seconds, and said, Getting on my bicycle, riding it up to the foothills, turning around and looking back at campus. Then riding down to the beach. Running naked along the beach for ten miles or so. Diving into the surf, and then having scuba gear on, and going looking for things. I was caught up'in his flight of fancy, and followed him over the foothills. I murmured some response. Yeah, he said. Back to differential equations. The campus is back to differential equations. There's football on the lawns behind Wilbur, basketball behind Roble, pot parties in Stern, booking everywhere. Stillness, too. Everywhere. So it goes. 95 'n N v .' .1 . xs- Q-'- I . 'i:,, 1 L I. wt

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y gg - .QCfa' N ' -ff' . Q fa' 1 vi ' e ...YH .IQLQ By Felicity Barringer So it goes. -from Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Day is following uneventful day, task following unmomentous task. Stanford is deep into its quarter of rest. Something built into Autumn Quarter is driving people away from the campus or within themselves. The reality of day following uneventful day, of blissful or stifling calm, of time alone now rules the campus. Gone is the urgency of Spring. Gone, for the moment at least, the omnipresent demands for political consciousness. Football commands whatever energy this quarter has seen, people can forgo politics for a while. The Rose Bowl is closer than the Revolution. Escapism is hovering in the air. Weekends see a mass exodus-to Yosemite, to the beach, to the south-away. The air is changing, brisk, a few leaves are falling. Stanford is too big for those looking within themselves, too small for those looking out at the world. The rain came early this year. lt waited around long enough to let people know that it was coming-then it fell, drab and methodical. So itgoes. Wander up near the knoll. There's organ music flowing from the Music building. The same notes, over and over. Wander down by the lake. They've started dumping the l V 1 x ,,. ,.f:1vr -',4f'..e' - - f l . v ., ..g. 1- V Q , i i' DL .. 53' LH - nw. - i - Mural' ln' 1 7, frail.. HW'

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ln 1969 it was Eat Pie, Chi Psi, Nov. 1 g now it was Satyagraha: Nonviolence and the Spirit. Columbae was a unique living groupg it was Stanford's first and only 'non-violence house.' Fresh bread was baked dailyg bongo drums accompanied young women moving silently through yoga's contorted movementsp seminars on non-violence were offered both to house members and to the entire college community. But Columbae was also part of the trend towards transforming dying fraternities into coed houses. ZAP lformerly Fijil, ATO, and Delta Chi had all followed suit. It was hoped by many budget-concerned administrators that such transformations would provide an answer to financially unprofitable fraternities then operating. The trend was expected to continue. Beginning Fall Quarter, the University also offered special housing arrangements for minority student groupsg the concept of making specified houses available for large concentrations of Black, Chicano, and Indian students had been developed the previous spring during discussions held by BSU and MECHA. According to Associate Dean of Students Bill Leland, the new housing situation was created to provide an easier opportunity for Blacks and Chicanos to live in proximity to other Blacks and Chicanos in order to establish their own identity. A majority of the black freshmen and about 20 percent of the Chicano freshmen requested the new arrangements. The remaining Chicanos and Stanfords 22 indians chose not to live in one house,' instead, they lived in supportive groups of four or five' throughout the housing system.