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Ain't I A Woman? newspapers, June 1970-July 1971

1971-04-30 "Ain't I a Woman?" Page 7

[photo]
This is DumDum Day Care Center
No Crashing or Loafing
People with Work & Love for children Welcome

April 20, 1971
Dear Anna, 
   So much has happened. I must say I didn't think of you or any of the family when I decided to state my feelings publicly by allowing myself to be arrested.
   At the beginning of that morning I had no awareness the day would end in jail, but then three months ago I had small awareness of my, and all women's oppressed position in this society. Back a time span of six months I still hoped day care was not a political issue. 
   So much more pleasant, more tidy to just mind your own business--get your own head together and avoid those who are down on you. Well, I guess day care was that radicalized me. Daycare and its relation to women's place and rights in society.
   I began to be vaguely aware back in September when a court injunction was served against Dum-Dum. It listed incredibly rigorous requirements for child care for those over the age of 2 (which Dum-Dum couldn't meet) and stated since no standards existed for children under two, all Dum-Dum operations were "automatically" illegal.
   It was an impressive document. But the vote was that Dum-Dum continue. For many in the group, there was no choice. Women with low-paying eight-to-five jobs couldn't afford commercial child care, and besides disliked all it taught and stood for.
   Dum-Dum is a free, cooperative attempt to provide a service members feel every woman deserves. Without paying high costs or turning her child over to unsympathetic persons, a woman can give some time and energy to herself. She can regain her integrity as a person in her own right--no longer an essential but non-valued servant, tending never-ending demands of husband and children. 
   The mother in the family, traditionally the most burdened, can give one day a week to a group of children and have her child cared for by other parents the rest of the week. For harried women never given a chance to go out unencumbered by children--or guilt about where they've been left--the day care opens a new life. 
   But the benefits of communal child care are two-fold. For in free collective child care the relationship between mother and child may change for the better as the woman comes to perceive her children as small human beings and less as accidents wich are baggage on her life. 
   The children benefit, too. Few low-income women charged with running a household have time or energy to devote just to playing with and physically  expressing love for their children.
   Toddlers and infants, especially when closely spaced, may receive little adult attention.
   The day care is created to stimulate and amuse a child. It is a child's world and adults who enter are expected to be willing to devote 100% of their energies to meeting their needs.
   Emphasis is placed on sharing. A serious attempt is made to avoid perpetuating the blights of the larger society. Racism and sexism, all kinds of exploitation are blatant in America. Parent-run day care centers can fight these more effectively than a single woman or a family. Each child is loved and cared for by all the adults in the community. The children are not "property" of a woman or a family. The child learns to know a variety of people, learns to trust and love many more children and adults than could otherwise be possible. 
   I believe day care centers are a positive good. I am glad to see women's lives and faces unthaw and become alive. I am assured to see children, once distrusting and resentful, become open and sharing with their "sisters" and "brothers".
   All the day care center requires in material goods is a place to set up facilities. Warmth, a kitchen, a toilet--these are essential. When Dum-Dum was in St. Paul's, it occupied a basement. Not very elegant, but adequate for winter. But in springtime the rains came, and the basement flooded. Soon-due rains plus more state hassles concerning fire regulations made it clear to Dum-Dum workers a new facility was needed. 
   There was no church willing and the financial status of the group precluded any other possibilities. 
   Members of Dum-Dum were aware of the need for a better place back in the fall of 1970, when requests and inquiries were made to the university officials in charge of space. Some of the most patient and sincere started the long process of "going through proper channels" to get university assistance.
   They met with all manner of resistance and evasion; attempts were made to "buy them off" with the university's version of what child care was about.
   For the space office somehow "lost" the requests. Meetings were proposed, and then the U. spokesmen didn't show. Or the bureaucratic wheels would grind down on some failure on their part--to have information, to have authority to act...on and on. Round and round--anything to avoid setting the precedent of recognizing what the daycare people were talking about. There seemed little hope of their actually granting housing. 
   No one wanted a university supervised and run facility, at $50 per child per month, designed to educate "liberal" social workers. 
   And no one wanted the children to be experimental guinea pigs in a testing situation which the group as a whole had come to distrust. And this elaborate and expensive ordeal could care for only 12 children--nowhere near the number needing it or who could be helped if help were given or asked for.
   And so a decision was made to start acting for ourselves. The university owns houses and properties all through the town. Some are unused, some poorly used, but all clearly marked "university property." And with that tag comes the societal structure of whose needs get attention.
   Obviously, day care wasn't one of them. And both sides knew that. It didn't matter a damn to them that our children were in a mildewed, sunless basement--they weren't suffering. The more time stalled, the better it suited them. But our needs had only grown more intense in the long bicker and debate period. It as clear they didn't care for us and they didn't care to act in our behalf.
   So we stopped asking. We found unused and poorly used space and made plans. And on the morning of Easter Sunday we acted. We set up our daycare in the Foreign Language House. We moved the plastic chairs and rugs to the side. We moved the unused books and magazines and old drama props out of the back room. We put food in the working but empty refrigerator and put children's lunch supplies on clean but bare shelves.
   We set cribs up in the back room and put out playpens and toy-boxes in the front room. Children were happy as essential items of child care were put in place and toys discovered. Everyone was pleased at the spaciousness and beauty of the house.
   Our investigations had indicated the house was used a few nights a week as a social center for foreign-language students. That minimal use of the house could certainly continue--we were not attempting to put them out. But if they were miffed, the university could easily find them another unused kitchen, a room with plastic chairs. Rumor had it they preferred the union anyway.
   No one had expected the big boys of the university to come out on Sunday to give us a bad time. Their story was predictable. 
   No one wanted to hear it anymore. Everyone was sick of their liberal mouthings and Dean Hubbard was dubbed "the two-faced con man." They bullied and pleaded and threatened and we talked to them and then among ourselves. Everyone was aware how important this was. Feelings ran high. We had found our new daycare and damnit, we were going to stay!
   Not so, ordained the vice provost. And he did freak out. Four police cars parked in back of the house. Ten or twelve policemen assembled. 
   The group inside met for a most earnest discussion. In one day we had come so far--been so bold. We had acted on our beliefs and now they would like to shoo us all out, and smooth everything over and help everyone forget that we had ever acted. But we couldn't do that. 
   (I can record only my personal thoughts from this point on. I do not know to what extent I am representative of the 17.) I felt I had to make known just how earnestly I felt about the need for monied and established institutions to recognize the importance of day care and extend a portion of their vast resources. I felt I had to act for all the women who are caught in existing social patterns with no awareness of alternatives.
   I felt within the group a feeling of strength and solidarity of those forced to oppose a tradition they believe is unjust. My head buzzed but I realized with ever-increasing clarity that there was a time and a place to take a public stand and when that time came, I would act.
   They arrested the men first, then led out the women. All but me--I couldn't/wouldn't walk out so sweetly. I was mad down to my bones and I felt they could not make me leave. When they took the woman closest (a Yeast Cell sister), I felt my knees sink to the floor and I stared, cold, at the head of campus security. The remaining policemen looked very much as though they would have liked to leave me there, but Saylor called sharply to them and said, "You! I want you to get this one! Here!" Most hesitantly they put their hands on me. Donna D, my sister, called back "Think heavy! Theresa." and I grinned a heavy grin as she went out the door. 
   They nearly dropped me on the step but I felt only a curious, almost cold hatred, comprehending anew the meaning and purpose of civil disobedience.
   Now it's a week and a half later. My trial is the 30th; the charge disorderly conduct. If they find me guilty the fine is $100. 
   But the flip side is brighter. Within five days of our arrest the University located a house for our use. Within one week a  contract had been signed, for a rent almost within our range.
   The whole involvement has taught me a number of things about myself. I realize I never could have come to this point--the point of having these beliefs and being willing to act on them--without the love and support of my sisters in the Yeast Cell. The opportunity for any woman who wishes to enter a free day care must be provided. A woman's place in this society is restricted and enforced by keeping her within the confines of the nuclear family. In it, she is isolated from her similarly oppressed sisters. She gives her labor like a servant and is treated like a child by the man and by the society she lives in.
   Much love to my sisters. May our dreams and our children's dreams live forever.

daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum 7.

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[photo] This is DumDum Day Care Center No Crashing or Loafing People with Work & Love for children Welcome April 20, 1971 Dear Anna, So much has happened. I must say I didn't think of you or any of the family when I decided to state my feelings publicly by allowing myself to be arrested. At the beginning of that morning I had no awareness the day would end in jail, but then three months ago I had small awareness of my, and all women's oppressed position in this society. Back a time span of six months I still hoped day care was not a political issue. So much more pleasant, more tidy to just mind your own business--get your own head together and avoid those who are down on you. Well, I guess day care was that radicalized me. Daycare and its relation to women's place and rights in society. I began to be vaguely aware back in September when a court injunction was served against Dum-Dum. It listed incredibly rigorous requirements for child care for those over the age of 2 (which Dum-Dum couldn't meet) and stated since no standards existed for children under two, all Dum-Dum operations were "automatically" illegal. It was an impressive document. But the vote was that Dum-Dum continue. For many in the group, there was no choice. Women with low-paying eight-to-five jobs couldn't afford commercial child care, and besides disliked all it taught and stood for. Dum-Dum is a free, cooperative attempt to provide a service members feel every woman deserves. Without paying high costs or turning her child over to unsympathetic persons, a woman can give some time and energy to herself. She can regain her integrity as a person in her own right--no longer an essential but non-valued servant, tending never-ending demands of husband and children. The mother in the family, traditionally the most burdened, can give one day a week to a group of children and have her child cared for by other parents the rest of the week. For harried women never given a chance to go out unencumbered by children--or guilt about where they've been left--the day care opens a new life. But the benefits of communal child care are two-fold. For in free collective child care the relationship between mother and child may change for the better as the woman comes to perceive her children as small human beings and less as accidents wich are baggage on her life. The children benefit, too. Few low-income women charged with running a household have time or energy to devote just to playing with and physically expressing love for their children. Toddlers and infants, especially when closely spaced, may receive little adult attention. The day care is created to stimulate and amuse a child. It is a child's world and adults who enter are expected to be willing to devote 100% of their energies to meeting their needs. Emphasis is placed on sharing. A serious attempt is made to avoid perpetuating the blights of the larger society. Racism and sexism, all kinds of exploitation are blatant in America. Parent-run day care centers can fight these more effectively than a single woman or a family. Each child is loved and cared for by all the adults in the community. The children are not "property" of a woman or a family. The child learns to know a variety of people, learns to trust and love many more children and adults than could otherwise be possible. I believe day care centers are a positive good. I am glad to see women's lives and faces unthaw and become alive. I am assured to see children, once distrusting and resentful, become open and sharing with their "sisters" and "brothers". All the day care center requires in material goods is a place to set up facilities. Warmth, a kitchen, a toilet--these are essential. When Dum-Dum was in St. Paul's, it occupied a basement. Not very elegant, but adequate for winter. But in springtime the rains came, and the basement flooded. Soon-due rains plus more state hassles concerning fire regulations made it clear to Dum-Dum workers a new facility was needed. There was no church willing and the financial status of the group precluded any other possibilities. Members of Dum-Dum were aware of the need for a better place back in the fall of 1970, when requests and inquiries were made to the university officials in charge of space. Some of the most patient and sincere started the long process of "going through proper channels" to get university assistance. They met with all manner of resistance and evasion; attempts were made to "buy them off" with the university's version of what child care was about. For the space office somehow "lost" the requests. Meetings were proposed, and then the U. spokesmen didn't show. Or the bureaucratic wheels would grind down on some failure on their part--to have information, to have authority to act...on and on. Round and round--anything to avoid setting the precedent of recognizing what the daycare people were talking about. There seemed little hope of their actually granting housing. No one wanted a university supervised and run facility, at $50 per child per month, designed to educate "liberal" social workers. And no one wanted the children to be experimental guinea pigs in a testing situation which the group as a whole had come to distrust. And this elaborate and expensive ordeal could care for only 12 children--nowhere near the number needing it or who could be helped if help were given or asked for. And so a decision was made to start acting for ourselves. The university owns houses and properties all through the town. Some are unused, some poorly used, but all clearly marked "university property." And with that tag comes the societal structure of whose needs get attention. Obviously, day care wasn't one of them. And both sides knew that. It didn't matter a damn to them that our children were in a mildewed, sunless basement--they weren't suffering. The more time stalled, the better it suited them. But our needs had only grown more intense in the long bicker and debate period. It as clear they didn't care for us and they didn't care to act in our behalf. So we stopped asking. We found unused and poorly used space and made plans. And on the morning of Easter Sunday we acted. We set up our daycare in the Foreign Language House. We moved the plastic chairs and rugs to the side. We moved the unused books and magazines and old drama props out of the back room. We put food in the working but empty refrigerator and put children's lunch supplies on clean but bare shelves. We set cribs up in the back room and put out playpens and toy-boxes in the front room. Children were happy as essential items of child care were put in place and toys discovered. Everyone was pleased at the spaciousness and beauty of the house. Our investigations had indicated the house was used a few nights a week as a social center for foreign-language students. That minimal use of the house could certainly continue--we were not attempting to put them out. But if they were miffed, the university could easily find them another unused kitchen, a room with plastic chairs. Rumor had it they preferred the union anyway. No one had expected the big boys of the university to come out on Sunday to give us a bad time. Their story was predictable. No one wanted to hear it anymore. Everyone was sick of their liberal mouthings and Dean Hubbard was dubbed "the two-faced con man." They bullied and pleaded and threatened and we talked to them and then among ourselves. Everyone was aware how important this was. Feelings ran high. We had found our new daycare and damnit, we were going to stay! Not so, ordained the vice provost. And he did freak out. Four police cars parked in back of the house. Ten or twelve policemen assembled. The group inside met for a most earnest discussion. In one day we had come so far--been so bold. We had acted on our beliefs and now they would like to shoo us all out, and smooth everything over and help everyone forget that we had ever acted. But we couldn't do that. (I can record only my personal thoughts from this point on. I do not know to what extent I am representative of the 17.) I felt I had to make known just how earnestly I felt about the need for monied and established institutions to recognize the importance of day care and extend a portion of their vast resources. I felt I had to act for all the women who are caught in existing social patterns with no awareness of alternatives. I felt within the group a feeling of strength and solidarity of those forced to oppose a tradition they believe is unjust. My head buzzed but I realized with ever-increasing clarity that there was a time and a place to take a public stand and when that time came, I would act. They arrested the men first, then led out the women. All but me--I couldn't/wouldn't walk out so sweetly. I was mad down to my bones and I felt they could not make me leave. When they took the woman closest (a Yeast Cell sister), I felt my knees sink to the floor and I stared, cold, at the head of campus security. The remaining policemen looked very much as though they would have liked to leave me there, but Saylor called sharply to them and said, "You! I want you to get this one! Here!" Most hesitantly they put their hands on me. Donna D, my sister, called back "Think heavy! Theresa." and I grinned a heavy grin as she went out the door. They nearly dropped me on the step but I felt only a curious, almost cold hatred, comprehending anew the meaning and purpose of civil disobedience. Now it's a week and a half later. My trial is the 30th; the charge disorderly conduct. If they find me guilty the fine is $100. But the flip side is brighter. Within five days of our arrest the University located a house for our use. Within one week a contract had been signed, for a rent almost within our range. The whole involvement has taught me a number of things about myself. I realize I never could have come to this point--the point of having these beliefs and being willing to act on them--without the love and support of my sisters in the Yeast Cell. The opportunity for any woman who wishes to enter a free day care must be provided. A woman's place in this society is restricted and enforced by keeping her within the confines of the nuclear family. In it, she is isolated from her similarly oppressed sisters. She gives her labor like a servant and is treated like a child by the man and by the society she lives in. Much love to my sisters. May our dreams and our children's dreams live forever. daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum daycare dum dum 7.