Three 1953 Uni High alums — Jack Wills, Terry Abrahams, and Greg Gregorich — have written about their experiences at Uni and wanted to share their thoughts with current students and faculty. Our first contributor is Jack Wills, who went on to earn his doctorate in history and Far Eastern languages from Harvard University. He is an emeritus professor of history at the University of Southern California, where he began teaching in 1965, specializing in Chinese history. In 2004, Prof. Wills received Uni’s highest honor for an alumnus or alumna, the Max Beberman Distinguished Alumni Award. Gargoyle senior editor Alex Zhai interviewed Prof. Wills via e-mail, and a transcript of that Q&A can be found after the article.

Jack Wills (left) in class, as pictured in the 1953 Uni yearbook. Yearbook photo (click to enlarge)

Jack Wills more than 50 years later, speaking at commencement as the recipient of Uni's 2004 Max Beberman Award for Distinguished Alumni. Development office photo (click to enlarge)

SOME THINGS HAVEN'T changed at all — some of the cracks in the terrazzo floors, the weird greenish varnish on some of the woodwork, the burn scar in the cabinet in the classroom across from the library made by a firecracker put there about 1951, the rickety financing of the whole operation, the talent and ambition of many of the students.

But some things have changed in striking ways. Through my years at Uni High, 1948-1953, the subfreshman class, admitted by examination, was about 25. The other half of each freshman class was made up of anyone who wanted to apply and whose parents were ready to pay the very modest tuition.

Thus there were in every class a few farm kids, working class kids, and in the language of that day, “Negroes.” The principal, Dr. Charles Allen, was a committed 1950s liberal, and made hospitality and decent treatment of the African-American students a matter of principle. Thus in a U.S. history, government, or literature class we had a classmate who liked a poem about the birth of a calf because he’d seen it happen, another who had had a union card for a construction job the previous summer, and one who brought in a nice poem read at his African-American church.

These were not the only ways in which the nation and world of the mid-20th century was present. We had a classmate who had some memories of the London Blitz, and another whose family had come through the dire politics of postwar Yugoslavia. A curious feature of the freshman curriculum was a double course that was supposed to be both science and social studies called “Freshman Problems.”

One of the big units in it was about atomic energy; a bit of elementary science, and quite a bit of debates about the control and use of atomic energy. John Hanson’s sophomore world history course was a remarkably searching, for a bunch of 14- or 15-year-olds, introduction to its subject. We did charts of the alternative ways of organizing an industrial society represented by laissez-faire Victorian Britain, post-New Deal free enterprise America, partly socialist Britain, and the Soviet Union.

Outside resources included a glossy presentation by Chamber of Commerce people on the wonders of American capitalism, and another on the democratic socialist alternative by Robert Emerson, Uni High parent. In our senior year, I think, a few of us watched a committee session of the state legislature in Springfield as it debated some kind of McCarthyite initiative — I think a loyalty oath.

So we can find reminders here that this was a different America. Racial segregation still was very real. The traditional roles of the sexes were not questioned. Some of our fathers had been in World War II (mine was a bit too old), and we all knew of men who had come back damaged or not come back at all. Memories of the Depression (Robert Emerson had some moving ones) and the World War II alliance with the Soviet Union formed the backdrop to a situation in which some still felt there might be something to learn from the Soviet Union, but the anti-communist reaction was vehement and up to 1953 largely winning.

There was a lot of labor unrest, and a lot of discussion of labor problems and so on in American history and government classes. There was a widespread sense, I think reflected in the curriculum choices mentioned above, that we had to find our way to something better after the horrors of the Depression and the War. As I think back on these things, I celebrate the change to an America of far less racial prejudice and far more fluid gender roles, but I worry about a deep privatization and consumerization that leaves us unengaged in the problems of our society and world, even unable to mount wide opposition to a disastrous war.

Another narrower point about Uni High: The smaller group of subfreshmen were treated, at least in form, as full members from the beginning. They were not called “subbies.” We didn’t have the lounge yet, but there was only casual and individual harassment of the small newcomers. For what it’s worth.

So assuming this gets read by faculty and by students who would like to argue about the future of their school, could they learn anything from this picture from long ago? I’m sure there’s no way back, and I don’t think many in my class feel much nostalgia for the 1950s, least of all the women. But I’m a working historian, and historians write partly in the hope that they can provide a mirror in which people of the present day can see something that opens up a new perspective, a new triangulation. For what it’s worth.

Questions and Answers with Jack Wills

The following is an edited transcript of an e-mail interview with Jack Wills, conducted by Gargoyle senior editor Alex Zhai.

Could you tell us a little bit about the things you went on to do after Uni?

After college (a fairly botched philosophy major), I discovered China! I’ve researched and taught about Chinese history for over 40 years, and am still hard at it.

How much have you stayed in touch with your high school classmates?

I was in at least annual touch with a few from graduation until now. We started staying in touch more with more of us after our 40th reunion in 1993.

What prompted you to write your article sharing your reflections about Uni?

I’m just fascinated by how things are the same and different, and I hope some of my perspectives are interesting to present students and faculty.

How do you think Uni has changed since you attended? Have you visited recently?

A slightly insulting answer would be that it’s “more hot house-y.” You all came through the subfreshman process and are assumed to be very bright and very ambitious. Many of us were like that, but we had quite a few others, and I think that was good for all of us.

There’s a feeling among some current Uni students that their lives just follow a script: a day-in-and-day-out routine of 8-to-4 classes, extracurricular sports, and homework. We do a lot of things, but they are often the same things that everyone else does. How would you compare that to your experience? Can you describe how you spent most of your time?

I think Terry Abrahams [who will contribute the second in this series of articles] is right that the extracurricular stuff was important for a lot of us; for me, it was the choral music, the dramatics, and the very low-tech student newspaper. But we had some really demanding classes, and read and wrote a lot. I suspect you all are suffering from the general middle-class American anxiety about getting into the best college. Some of us were like that, but many were pretty clueless and thus less anxious.

It seems like Uni students aren’t getting as much out of school and their extracurricular activities as some of you have. Is this just because we’re living it now? Did your perspectives on your high school years change significantly as you got older?

Wait until you tell your college classmates about Uni and enjoy their envy! Wait until you wish your kids had access to something as humane as Uni!

What advice do you have for Uni students during and after high school?

Stay open to new interests and to new possibilities of interest and commitment; even when (gasp) you’re 70.

Note: The second article in this series, by Terry Abrahams, will be published on Thursday.