Arts Commentary & Writing, No. ❹
Way Back: Archival Photographs
Snapshots in Time: Unearthing 125 Years of Brown Alumni Magazine Archives
Edited by Louise Sloan and Pippa Jack; Produced by Courtney Cheng
STARING AT PAPERS, NOT PHONES
PHOTO: BROWN ARCHIVES
A tabletop radio for music and news, a small magazine rack by the radiator, a quill pen tucked into the corner for correspondence or notes, and a handmade doily framed as wall art. This mid-century dorm room feels worlds away, reminding us of a time when music and news came through static and writing still involved ink. The furniture is sturdy, classic New England: a wooden desk, a Windsor chair, and a patterned bedspread that looks as if they’ve seen everything from hurried mornings to lazy afternoons. But the scene itself is as familiar today as it was then. Three friends sit together, one in a chair with a book, the others cross-legged on the rug, huddled in conversation over course notes, a manuscript, or something of the sort. Not all that much has changed. We crowd into small rooms with oversized furniture, lounging on rugs—only now, with laptops instead of notebooks and Bluetooth speakers in place of radios. In most cases, the skirts and cardigans have been swapped for sweatpants and hoodies. And curtains are banned as fire hazards. Yet in the dorms, timeless rituals endure. Some things, thankfully, stay the same.
Short Hair, Long Game: Resistance, ’70s Style
| PHOTO: MICHAEL BOYER / BROWN ARCHIVES / BROWN ALUMNI MONTHLY VOL. 70, NO. 8, MAY 1970 |
In May 1970, Brown students—supported by most of the faculty—overwhelmingly voted to strike to protest the Vietnam War. Sparked by Nixon’s invasion of Cambodia and the killing of four students at Kent State, thousands at Brown joined a nationwide protest. Everyone showed up in their own way: some fasted (for 72 hours!), others leafletted factories, and a few even skipped finals. Even the faculty got in on it—many final exams were made optional. Students were gearing up to knock on doors and canvas across Rhode Island. But before they hit the road, they realized something: if they wanted to win over suburban hearts, they might have to lose the hippie hair. Long locks signaled counterculture on College Hill—but out in the ’burbs? Not exactly the look of trustworthiness. Enter the pop-up barbers. Pembrokers picked up scissors and gave shaggy manes a respectable trim—50 cents a snip. Proceeds went to the strike fund (which raised over $7,000), and the clippings? The sign behind the barbers said it all: “Save the hair and send it to Nixon!”
Read the original May 1970 BAM article here |
More Way Backs coming soon.