|
|
Page | 10/14 | Date | 07.02.2018 | Size | 1.89 Mb. | | #40066 |
|
“appropriate bedside manner!”
In an incisive report detailing the insidious methods used to limit
minority admissions, Lander pointed out that the harm caused by such
prejudicial practices was not limited to merely the prospective student
being denied admission. “Our entire community is being ill-served
when students capable of becoming our top surgeons, jurists, and government
leaders are being denied access to a college education because
of their religion.”
Lander’s report went on to urge the state’s educational sanctioning
agency, the Board of Regents, to investigate these collegiate discriminatory
practices and take strong action against them. He sadly
noted that New York was spending less per capita on higher education
than any other state in the union. This shocking situation needed immediate
attention and, going beyond simple criticism in his report,
Lander advocated the establishment of a new state university system
that would provide appropriate educational facilities to all New York
residents regardless of financial status in order to “assure all qualified
64 The Lander Legacy
applicants, regardless of race, creed, color, or national origin, their full
educational opportunities.”
Upon completing his report, and convinced of the urgency of its message,
Lander was concerned that it might languish in the Mayor’s Committee
for Unity for some time before any action was to be taken. To
jumpstart the process, he employed some subterfuge of his own.
Lander enlisted the aid of another member of the Committee, social
activist and best-selling author of Imitation of Life, Backstreet, and other
novels: Fannie Hurst. Neither a radical nor an intellectual, Hurst was a
close friend of Eleanor Roosevelt and had vigorously supported the New
Deal. As a director of New York’s Urban League, she enjoyed easy access
to the city’s newspaper editors. At Lander’s behest, Hurst leaked the report
to Benjamin Fine, the Pulitzer Prize–winning education editor at the New
York Times, who saw to it that the blistering report received front-page
coverage in the following day’s edition. Lander’s ploy worked; the story
was a bombshell. Due to the intense public interest generated by the report’s
findings (among other factors), it was quickly published and widely
distributed both within and outside of the New York academic community.
Once again Governor Dewey responded by appointing a commission
that would eventually do exactly what Lander’s report had advocated: establish
the State University of New York (SUNY). The report also spurred
the New York state legislature to pass the Quinn-Olliffe Bill, the first fair
educational practices law enacted in the United States. The Dewey commission
went further by instructing the Board of Regents to deny public
funding to any college or university found guilty of minority discrimination,
regardless of how such practices were depicted by the school itself.
The legacy of Lander’s work in this area can best be appreciated by
reviewing the establishment and current profile of SUNY, an educational
system that was created in direct response to his tenacious and
inspired advocacy.
The State University of New York lists its founding date as February
1948 when New York became the last of forty-eight states to finally create
a state university system. The new university consolidated twenty-nine
unaffiliated institutions, including eleven teachers colleges. Today SUNY
has grown to include sixty-four colleges on geographically dispersed
campuses that are all within commuting distance of New York. SUNY
Unity 65
provides access to virtually every field of academic or professional study
through 7,669 degree and certification programs. As of January 2008, 20
percent of SUNY’s 418,000 enrolled students were members of minority
groups. Although most are from New York, SUNY students come from
every state and from 160 nations. A full 40 percent of New York’s high
school graduates enroll at SUNY each year resulting in over two and a half
million SUNY alumni living in New York and around the world. These
alumni are indeed indebted to Rabbi Bernard Lander and his pioneering
work to eradicate ethnic and racial quotas and to enlarge the scope of educational
opportunities in the state of New York.
Lander came to understand that the work of the Mayor’s Committee
was not destined to be an overnight struggle. His breakthrough success
in the area of combating the higher education quota system must be regarded
as a crack in the firmament that would, after some time, result in
the elimination of all such quotas. The following year, the Association of
American Colleges, in a dramatic mea culpa, acknowledged “with a troubled
conscience” a history of discrimination against Jews among America’s
academic establishment. Under the guidance of this professional association,
questions about a candidate’s race and religion—questions that had
been there for a quarter century—began to slowly disappear from college
entrance application forms. Over the ensuing twenty-year period, the level
of discrimination in American higher education steadily declined, a fact
that is also a proud component of the Lander Legacy.
Of course the Mayor’s Committee was first and foremost dedicated
to investigating and understanding the social forces at work in those areas
that had prompted its formation in the first place. In this capacity, Bernard
Lander’s background in researching the juvenile delinquency statistics of
Baltimore proved invaluable. Under the auspices of the Mayor’s Committee,
Lander initiated and oversaw an in-depth survey aimed at gaining
an understanding of a long series of anti-Semitic outbreaks centered on
Coney Island. For this task he enlisted the services of the newly formed
Congress on Community Interrelations. or the CCI.
The CCI had been established as a social research group by one of
America’s three leading Jewish advocacy organizations, the American Jewish
Congress (the American Jewish Committee and the Anti-Defamation
League being the other two). Lander had learned about the group’s plans
66 The Lander Legacy
to set up the CCI from his friend and AJCongress leader, Rabbi Irving
Miller who, like Lander, had also earned ordination from RIETS. As Miller
explained, the CCI was being formed in response to calls for more proactive
efforts in fighting anti-Semitism that arose during a recent AJCongress
conference held in New York City. The CCI’s mission was to study
the causes of anti-Semitism in America in order to combat and eliminate
them. Lander suggested that Miller consider noted German .migr. social
scientist, Kurt Lewin, to head the new group. Often recognized as the
“founder of social psychology” and a pioneer in the study of organizational
development, Lewin was, at this point, heading the Research Center for
Group Dynamics at M.I.T. Rabbi Miller passed on Lander’s recommendation
to AJCongress president Stephen S. Wise, who contacted Lewin.
Kurt Lewin was in fact hired as a consultant by the CCI based partly on
Lander’s suggestion. Lewin’s work on behalf of the CCI led to significant
advances and led to the CCI’s coming key role in many aspects of the civil
rights movement.
Working under the auspices of both the Mayor’s Committee and the
CCI, Lander designed a survey used to conduct in-depth interviews with
residents of the Coney Island neighborhoods under investigation. He employed
interview techniques that had been developed by Lazarsfeld and
Merton at Columbia in order to unearth the structure of the prejudice
that permeated the community. The surveys revealed that the anti-Jewish
disturbances were merely one of a constellation of anti-social behaviors
carried out by Italian gangs. The study concluded that in order to combat
the racial and anti-Jewish manifestations, alternative socially acceptable
channels for youthful behavior had to become available. The Mayor’s
Committee, acting on these recommendations, assigned a field worker the
task of developing such programs similar to those that Lander had used in
Baltimore. While no miracles resulted, the number of racially motivated
teenage crimes in the area continued to decline over the coming years due,
in part, to the youth programs put into place by the Mayor’s Committee
at Rabbi Lander’s behest.
The significance of these types of sociological studies was extolled by
many in the field at the time. Noted gestalt theorist Goodwin Watson,
referring to the CCI study, commented, “The social power of self-directed,
cooperative fact-finding in its potential contribution to strengthening democracy,
ranks higher than the discovery of atomic energy!”
Unity 67
The Mayor’s Committee also turned its attention to Washington
Heights. Working with the City College department of sociology, Lander
discovered that a full 30 percent of parents interviewed reported that their
children had been involved in clashes with other ethnic groups. Again, the
Committee issued a report to the city that urged investment in neighborhood
recreational centers as well as a program of in-school tolerance education.
Both recommendations were acted upon and, in a follow-up study,
the number of such clashes had substantially diminished.
Having been formed amidst the shadow and smoke of the Harlem
riots, it is no surprise that most of the work of the Mayor’s Committee
focused on improving conditions in the black community. The Committee’s
efforts in securing equal employment legislation impacted blacks
enormously since they were often the “last hired and the first fired” when
times were tough. But something also needed to be done about not only
how black people earned their money, but also how they spent it. Allegations
of price gouging by Harlem shopkeepers and merchants was one of
the factors that had sparked the riots. The Committee looked into pricing
practices during both 1945 and 1946, tracking prices up and down
125th Street. They worked closely with neighborhood consumer groups
and responded to claims of not only price gouging but also reports of
discrimination in employment and cases of public accommodations and
transportation services being denied to blacks.
The experience of serving on the Mayor’s Committee on Unity had a
deep and lasting effect on Bernard Lander. While always firm in the principle
that each individual has infinite intrinsic value and that all people are
equal in the eyes of G-d, he now had personal first-hand experience to support
this belief. By working closely and effectively with blacks, protestants,
and Irish and Italian Catholics, Lander had gained a personal appreciation
for their concerns and had come to value their friendships. While never
neglecting the needs of his own people, Lander gained the respect of his
non-Jewish colleagues because of his empathy and devotion to their needs.
In 1947, as he continued to fine tune his Columbia doctoral dissertation,
Rabbi Lander accepted a part-time evening teaching position at
CUNY’s Hunter College in midtown Manhattan. His work on the Mayor’s
Committee continued unabated. The following year, Charles Evans
Hughes, Jr. submitted his resignation as chairman of the Mayor’s Committee
on Unity. Hughes’s successor was Edward Lazansky, who felt that
68 The Lander Legacy
Catholics and Jews were capable of taking care of themselves and that the
Committee on Unity should concentrate solely on improving opportunities
for the city’s black population.
The Committee’s director, and Rabbi Lander’s close colleague over the
previous four years, Dan Dodson, soon thereafter returned to his post at
NYU. Having identified many of the root causes leading to urban violence
and after having submitted a series of administrative and legislative recommendations
adopted by City Hall and the State of New York, the Committee
now saw its role evolve into that of an enforcement arm that would
act to secure these new civil rights protections on a more permanent basis.
Eventually the Committee on Unity was replaced by just such a standing
city agency, the Commission on Human Rights, which was granted the
authority to enforce the newly enacted civil rights legislation.
As he saw the activities of the Committee winding down, Bernard
Lander decided that the time had come for him to move on. With more
time finally available, he was able to complete, submit, and defend his
doctoral dissertation at Columbia, which awarded Lander his Ph.D. degree
in late 1948. Although Dr. Lander became a full-time member of
the Hunter College faculty the following year, he soon found that he was
not cut out for merely a pedagogic career. The yearning for social service
still burned strongly in his heart and so, shortly before the decade ended,
Bernard Lander sought and accepted a new position with the New York
City Youth Board.
Since returning to New York from Baltimore, Bernard Lander had
devoted himself to the ideal of building unity among the diverse ethnic
factions of New York. But it was another sort of unity that captured his
attention during the winter of early 1948.
Bernard, at the time, was not only investigating religious tensions in
Washington Heights; he was also living in the neighborhood. An advantage
of having returned to New York as a single man was that he was able
to reside with his parents, whose home sat only a few short blocks from
the Yeshiva campus. During the long winter nights, Bernard was in the
habit of retiring to the warmth of Yeshiva’s beis medrash (house of learning)
following Shabbos. There he would indulge in intense learning and lively
discussion until the early hours. He found these weekly sessions both spiritually
and intellectually invigorating, providing him with renewed energy
to face the coming week’s challenges.
Unity 69
So it was no doubt the case that Bernard was deep in study at Yeshiva
on the Saturday night that Sarah Shragowitz attended a party at a friend’s
apartment. Fortunately for Bernard, his brother Nathan, who was also living
at their parents’ home at the time, did attend the gathering that night.
There he met Sarah, blessed with the same wholesome natural beauty of
her Biblical namesake, who impressed Nathan with her character and intelligence.
When Sarah explained that she had one semester remaining
at New York University where she was majoring in sociology, Nathan instantly
mentioned his brother who was, by this point, a few months shy of
earning his doctorate in sociology from Columbia.
Nathan understood, perhaps better than Bernard himself, what his
older brother was seeking in a wife, and after spending some time exposed
to Sarah’s poise and charm, he concluded that here was an excellent
candidate. Nathan began to inquire about Sarah’s family background and
learned that she was the daughter of the only rabbi in Port Chester, New
York, a village in the town of Rye off Long Island Sound.
When Nathan later reported his encounter to Bernard, he urged his
brother to not let this opportunity pass him by.
Bernard greatly respected his younger brother’s opinion on all matters,
including matters of the heart, so he swung into action. His first step was
to call on his friend Dr. Abraham Katsh, chairman of the Department of
Hebrew Studies at NYU to learn, if by chance, he knew a student named
Sarah Shragowitz. Dr. Katsh informed Bernard that Sarah was a student
in his class—a very bright student—and fully supported Nathan’s opinion
of her. He invited Bernard to sit in on the class so that he could introduce
them. Bernard agreed.
But, alas the fates that had caused them to miss each other at the party
were still at work, and when Bernard arrived to Dr. Katsh’s class, he was
informed that Sarah was absent that day because she was studying for a
major test in another subject. After speaking with Dr. Katsh about Sarah
for a second time, and receiving yet another strong endorsement, Bernard
felt that he had completed his due diligence and decided to phone Sarah
directly. The over-the-phone introductions went well, and the two agreed
to meet the following day.
Sarah was naturally apprehensive, but once they met, she found that
she had a great deal in common and much to talk about with this energetic,
highly intelligent young man. Although they did not breach the
70 The Lander Legacy
subject at that first meeting, they both quickly saw in each other the
potential for marriage.
As the courtship moved forward, it soon became time for Bernard
to visit Sarah’s family in Port Chester, where he met Sarah’s father, Rabbi
Moshe Shragowitz, a stately man who exuded an air of old-world dignity.
Rabbi Shragowitz had emigrated from Kletsk in 1923 with his wife,
Hinde, and their young son, Jacob. Before coming to Port Chester, Rabbi
Shragowitz had served for ten years as a congregational rabbi in Somerville,
New Jersey. It was there that the couple’s third daughter, Sarah, was
born in 1926. The family moved to their current home in this quaint shipbuilding
town in 1936 where, over the course of the ensuing forty years,
Rabbi Shragowitz would serve the small Jewish community as its rabbi,
chazzan, shochet and mohel (spiritual leader, cantor, ritual slaughterer, and
ritual circumciser).
From his very first encounter with the Shragowitzes, Bernard Lander
had nothing but the utmost respect and affection for Sarah’s parents.
Moshe Shragowitz was a true rabbinic scholar, steeped in Torah tradition,
and an outstanding community leader. Hinde, he regarded as a pillar of
chesed (kindness), ceaselessly engaged in charitable acts throughout their
community.
In Sarah, Bernard had found the life partner who had eluded him for
so long both in Baltimore and in New York. Sarah was likewise drawn to
Share with your friends: |
The database is protected by copyright ©ininet.org 2024
send message
|
|