311e ~t ligan til Eighty years of editorial freedom Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan Sfriday inorni iig Ann Arbor coffeehouses face hard times by daniel zwerdliiu 41 420 Maynard St., Ann Arbor, Mich. Nook Phnna - 7ti4_t.S.;? ivesrnone.: Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily express the individual opinions of staff wr or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1970 NIGHT EDITOR: DAVE( The U' stalls on hiring YOU'VE GOT to be rich to enjoy yourself. The brief days of the 'old-fashioned coffeehouse where riters folks could sit and munch dough- nuts and hear good music are finished. CHUDWI N Ann Arbor, where living costs a lot 'of money, is a big loser: two of the three major coffeehouses, Mark's and Canterbury House, staggered for a few years and died. Mark's crumbled, for all enjoy- n ment purposes, last year because it had to raise its prices to meet soaring operating costs and drove away its best clientele, the ,people . . . without much money who needed a friendly place to relax and per- petuate their culture. (It closed and the big name and hitched or drove on a shoestring from town to town, playing the college cir- cuits for a hundred bucks. It wasn't hard to get the crowds at 50 cents or a dollar a hear, and serve some good cheese and coffee and cider on the side. But the low-money culture doesn't work any more. It's stars have moved to big concert halls, like the Events Bldg., where 5,000 or 10,000 rich kids will pay $5 a seat. Small names, who don't charge the money, don't draw the crowds; but inflation forces cof- feehouses to charge a lot any way, no one comes and the coffeehouse loses out. Mark's started floundering two years ago: $500 a month rent, as- tronomic utility bills, equipment costs, city state and federal taxes (which it couldn't afford to pay). To bring in a return, it had to make money on its food. That turned it commercial and killed. it. MARK'S wasn't primarily a music coffeehouse like Canterbury but it served the same culture. "We started out as a place where people could get together and read, or play chess, or play some music, relax, have a sandwich and some coffee," said former owner Paul Melton before he left town and moved to Madrid two months ago. "But we couldn't break even fi- anancially. A coffeehouse is a busi- ness. Once we started operating it like a business, it turned cold and we lost the clientele who thrived here when we first opened." Canterbury died a week ago, $500 in debt after only two months. The money situation was so bad Canterbury couldn't even make it with the Episcopalian Stu- dent Foundation paying its rent. Thats' the largest chunk of any coffeehouse's operating expenses. Canterbury was paying utilities, a few hours worth of janitor's fees each show night. Then it was pay- ing for $50 worth of cider and $30 worth of doughnuts each week- bringing operating costs to $350 a week. And performer's fees, ranging from a few hundred for a small name group to $500 for a duo like Good News, or $1,000 plus gate percentage for a per- former like Dave Van Ronk. It's a business. You've got to pay $350 a week operating costs. Then you've got to pay the per- WITH ITS hiring policies exposed by a recent Department of Health, Educa- tion and Welfare report, the University now has no valid excuse for delaying ac- tion on the implementation of a massive affirmative action program to employ more women in higher ranking jobs. Unfortunately, President Robben Flem- ing has already indicated that the Uni- versity is unlikely to comply with a 30- day deadline set by HEW investigators for the filing of such a program. And his statement that there remain serious dis- agreements over criteria for determining sex discrimination seems to indicate that this may be only the start of a series of stalling tactic's. Although Fleming has refused to re- lease the complete HEW report, it has become clear that major sections center around the low proportion of female em- ployes in relatively high-ranking admin- istrative and academic posts. One key point the report makes is that at least a few women whose complaints have been investigated have been given lower rank- ing jobs than men despite their comple- tion of more advanced academic train- ing. 'The University has countered that the existence of such cases does not neces- sarily indicate discrimination. Rather, it has been argued, many wives of stu- dents are given lower ranking jobs be- cause of the expected brevity of their stay at the University. This line of reasoning avoids the real questions involved. For one thing, it is not at all clear that similar criteria - the expected length of stay at the Univer- sity - have been applied to men as well as women. MORE IMPORTANT, it is very likely that one of the main causes for the short time some overqualified female employees remain at the University is their frus- tration with working in low ranking jobs. Such women are "student wives" pri- marily because the University defines them in this way, forcing them to ac- cept the designation and the job that goes with it, promoting dissatisfactions and discouragement which may cause them to quit. This Catch-22 quality of job discrimi- nation makes it essential for the Univer- sity to help break the traditional sexist pattern of employment by actively ex- panding top-level job opportunities for women. Fleming has explained that he is wait- ing to release the HEW report until he can simultaneously supply a comprehen- sive University response. In the mean- time, the University is apparently at- tempting to settle the few specific cases of alleged discrimination cited by HEW. THIS PROCEDURE may help promote a pleasing image of the University, but it is a serious disservice- to hundreds of women potentially affected by the HEW report. The only just course available to the University at this time is to disclose the complete HEW report, renounce the sex- ist employment policies described therein and set about the critical task of pro- moting and hiring women to fill positions for which they are qualified. -MARTIN HIRSCHMAN Editor once, opened, closed again, and plans to reopen but will never be the same.) Canterbury shut its doors last week because it could- n't bill top performers, without losing its financial pants. THE AMERICAN coffeehouse burgeoned in the early Sixties, a transplant from Europe to the isolated college and hip city com- munities like Greenwich Village. The folk music explosion gave coffeehouses a reason to live and thrive. Folksingers, looking for their roots, shunned the big money former. The house holds 200 when it crams. Do you turn over the house after each set and bring in a new batch of customers?Do you let the original audience stay? If you change the house, you destroy rapport between the artist and the crowd and make a reputation as a high pressure business joint. But with no house turnover, how can you bring in that $1,000? "The money hassle was a drag," says Linda Kouba, Canterbury House secretary who's been strug- gling with the coffeehouse for two years. When Canterbury started five years ago, riding the crest of the folk music boom, it billed per- formers on the way up but not yet at the top - Joni Mitchell, Richie Havens, Tim Buckley. Can- terbury always ran about $1,000 in the hole, but the staff consid- ered it a valuable service to the community, an expression of an important culture, which happen-, ed to live oii very little money BUT THAT culture is disappear- ing. To stay alive, Canterbury was forced to raise its prices to $2,50, sometimes $3. At that price, Canterbury "became just another alternative for rich middle class kids, just another place to go on a Friday or Saturday night for a date." And, that, says a Canterbury staff member, "wasn't what we set The only reason the Ark can live out to do." Now the biggestAnn Arbor cof- feehouse left is the Ark, which features a narrow field of tradi- tional folk music, mostly second- act performers who few folks in the audience have ever heard of. The onl yreason theArk can live is because it is heavily subsidized by the Presbyterian Church -- and its performers are dirt c h e a p. But even operating costs-food, equipment, and salary-come to $220 a week before performer fees. Manager Dave Siglin has raised the price twice in the last year- from $1 to $1. 0 to keep in the clear. The Ark will make it for a while, as long as it keeps the crowds who go for its type of music. The Ark could never make it with bigger name, or more di- verse performers. It's lucky to be alive now. "THERE'S ONLY one way a coffeehouse can be in business," Siglin says flatly. "If it's support- ed from the outside. If it's sup- ported, it will make it. If it isn't, it will lose. And become an enemy of the people. It's as simple as that." That comes -down to a sad equation. If you're in the business of entertaining people, you've got to have money and plenty of it. If you don't have money, you've got to get it from the people you're serving. To do that, you'll get only the people who could have gone elsewhere for the evening, a two- buck movie or a play. For the folks who don't have the money it takes, there's not much of an entertainment culture left any- more. APOLOGY AND CONFESSION: Several students have written me complaining that last Friday's column, on the U.S. Department of Agriculture's fire ant pesticide war in the South, quotes various noted "etymologists." I suppose etymologists might know some- think about fire ants, but their main field is the study of word origins. Ihreally meant "entomglo- gists," who spend their time look- ing at insects. Which women are sisters? By JAN GOLDBERG Daily Guest Writer "HMMmm" he said, responding to her embrace. "So how was women's liberation?" "Well I'm not sure yet,' s h e answered, reluctantly releasing him. "I know you wanted me to go to the meeting to become lib- erated, but I think it will take more than a panel discussion be- fore I really can become a sister." "Sister?" She unconsciously pushed a strand of hair from his eyes. "Yes, they call themselves sisters," she said. "But not every woman is a sister. Liberated women are sis- ters, and oppressed unliberated women are sisters. But some sis- ters who think they aren't fight- ing for the same liberation re- fuse to call each other sister. And unliberated women who like being oppressed are supposed to be ev- en worse than men!" "How terrible." "It really was. Especially when they started going up on the stage." "Who did?" "Sisters. Or some of them. It started when one of the sisters read a declaration against mod- erators and timed speeches. She said it was wrong to have a panel of experts speak to us because ev- ery woman is an expert on her own oppression. So she asked ev- eryone to come on stage." "Hmm. Did you?" "SURE I DID. I've never been on a stage before, and here they wantedtme to be on stage! As if I was as good as they were!" "Good for you!" "Yes, except that once I was there I couldnt see or hear any- thing. We were supposed to be asking questions." "Did you want to ask any- thing?" "I wanted to ask how to get off the stage. But I didn't know who to ask, and no one would have heard me anyway. They were all shouting." "What did they want?" "It was sort of har'd to figure out. Some were chanting 'Free our sisters.' some were shouting for the men in the audience to leave, some said that there were t o many talking, and others w e r e complaining that womennever got a chance to speak." we could vote for an equal rights bill." "Oh. Vote." "Yes, but I still don't k n o w what the bill would do. It would be nice if it could extend men's right to women and women's rights to men, and more rights to everybody. But before I could find out for sure a sister grabbed the mike f r o m representative Grif- fith." "TCH, tch!" "Yes. And there was more shouting, and they said that we should end the panel because we could learn more by just asking questions." "What did you do?" "We voted. 241 wanted the pan- el, and 30 didn't. So we had the panel and I listened to the whole thing and even took notes so that I could tell you all about it." He patted her hand. "And you look the better for it. Tell' me what happened." "Well I'll try, but I'm not sure that I know exactly. T h e y all wanted liberation or freedom for everyone, but some of the panel felt you shouldn't work with men to get it. They said that all the sickness of our country is a re- sult of male chaucinism, and that if women had to work through male organizations sisters should take over all positions of leader- ship so that everyone could be equal." HE NODDED. "It certainly sounds like an inspiring meeting," he said, stroking her arm. "And don't worry if you don't have all the answers yet. You can go to more meetings. I don't want to prevent you from being liberat- ed." She looked up at him and smil- ed. "I'll go if you want me to," she said with a little sigh. "I'll go to all of them. Now what would you like me to fix you for dinner?" Losing control to the' unrelenting future By STEVE KOPPMAN .. .as other work remains WHILE THE HEW action has g i v e n advocates of equal opportunities for women some leverage against the Uni- versity in the field of employment prac- tices, wide areas of campus activity re- main unaffected. Unfortunately, for example, the depart- ment apparently lacks sufficient clout in the area of admissions even to under- take an investigation. Thus, what can in certain University units constitute gross inequities remain untouched. Sadly, too, 'the University seems f a r from ready to initiate the kind of broad study of internal campus procedures and personnel necessary to root out discrim- ination against women. Some units have acted decisively on this question, b u t others appear to lag far behind. THIS SITUATION is the result of the low priority the central administra- tion has placed on obtaining equal rights for women, a policy which has, come to be symbolized by the shunting aside of demands for 24-hour University-funded, child care center. Official indifference must be met with determined action from those interested in fighting sexist discrimination. Cases of overt or institutionalized bias must be investigated, analyzed and brought be- fore the court of campus opinion in a manner which cannot be ignored. "And what did you do?" "I got off the stage. When I had sat down t h e r e was still s h o u t i n g, and Representative Martha Griffith was saying she was glad women had such a pow- erful means of expressing them- selves." "She iked the shouting." "No. she meant the vote. She said she was glad that all women could vote and be heard. She said SIT ON THE GRASS, lean against a tree, feel the breezes of autumn through your hair. Gaze across the Diag, watch the leaves turning red against the sky. The people, books clutched in arm, hurrying across the paths, In front of the library, into Mason Hall. The chimes of Burton Tower ring, the breeze gusts up for a moment, then tires out. Seeing people you once knew. Laugh, talk, well, bye now. Mem- ories. Trying to catch an instant forever. The people keep moving, the sky darkens. The future comes rush- ing at you faster and faster. You fall headlong into its jaws and lose control. SOME PEOPLE don't think about it much till a few weeks before graduation. Some start feeling it early in the junior year. Some try and fight it, parley terms into terms into more terms, try to catch the Ann Arbor moment and hold on tight. But the future keeps coming. Now you're in this capsule. Every so often you venture out into that vast foreboding nothingness to see how things are going, to see the other people. "It's good to get off campus for a while," you say. But usually, it's not so good, and it's better to get back, and you shudder to think someday you'll be gxpelled from this womb, diploma in hand, to fend for yourself in the cold unknown. Out there is the draft, the army, danger, moral crisis, Canada. Out there are rows of little houses waiting for you. Jobs, slots, positions to fill. A future. The day after graduation looms as an abyss. Oh, that's a good school, they say out there, and what are you majoring in? What are you studying for? What are you going to do? That's right, what are you going to do? Where will you fit in? You're not here for your health, for Christ's sake. The people of Michi- gan don't pay good tax dollars so you can,live in this ivory tower and blow bubbles on the Diag for four years for nothing. What the hell are you going to do? FOR EVERY CHOICE you make. a thousand others-are excluded. As long as you're here, you can see yourself as free floating, Person - janitor or President or revolutionary or history teacher. As long as you're here, you're free. Undefined. But once you get out there, it's What are you? And every step you take forecloses a thousand dreams, cuts out a million futures. Working to earn money, pay the rent, buy the car, feed the little ones. Doing something every day, becoming a productive member of society. Be a specialist. Stabilize. Marry. Buy a house. Reality. Pay- checks coming in. Complain about taxes. This is life. THEN MAYBE you'll come back to the Diag some other autumn with different eyes. Walk around the 'U', visit the old hangouts. All the old friends gone, gone to different places, jobs and people, fitting in in different ways. Rick IS a lawyer in Detroit. Bob IS a contractor in Manistee. Diane IS a teacher in New York. You'll remember when Rick and Bob and Diane were Rick and Bob and Diane - free-lance people. Come back to the Diag. Think who you were, feel who you might have been. TRY SLOWING DOWN the future. Try hard. Good luck. Al --M.H. Letters to the Daily: Restricting dynamite i ' t r i t i 4'Z ME r' 3 rir L! - To the Daily: ONCE AGAIN the spineless, de- featist elements of this society are making an effort to take away our basic freedoms and leave Amer- ice defenseless, while criminal and subversive elements operate unopposed. Once again we are be- ing asked to overturn one of the most sacred elements of the Uni- ted States Constitution, in order to "reduce violence." "We must restrict the possession and sale of dynamite," they say. "Only thus can be curtain wanton destruction of people and property through terrorist bombings," What will happen if we allow a program of registering dynamite to be instituted? Violence will not be reduced. On the contrary, only those peace-loving, law-abiding citizens who desire merely to pro- tect their homes will be denied; subversives, anarchists and crim- inals will manage to find ways to achieve their vicious ends. An old slogan is still very much apropos: "Dynamite doesn't kill people- people kill people." And we must not be so naive as to suppose that dynamite control 's all they are after. Give to do-gooders a restric- tion on dynamite, and soon they will ask for a restriction on the sale and possession of handguns. Next will come the restriction of threatening to destroy us. What these cowardly subversives fear most is the well-armed citizen. We all know that the best deterrent against bomibngs is a good stock- pile. Keep America safe and free. Join and support the National Dy- namite Association. -Terence N. Treadwell National Director, NDA Supremacy To the Daily: THE DAILY has again reached editorial supremacy in its cover- age of a news story. Lately, cov- erage of the engineering school has been biased to such a point that all the facts are no longer presented in the s t o r y. I refer specifically to the Oct. 13 article by Bob Schreiner concerning the SDS charges of discrimination implicating Dow Chemical. Mr. Schreiner thought it news- worthy when one student remark- ed that it is unfair to throw alle- gations at Dow when they are not present to defend themselves. However, he did not feel it was knowledgable when another engin student said he thought discrim- ination is wrong in all instances, and that Dow should be denied recruiting facilities next term if this alleged policy continues. The fact not alluded to in this .,4- nl ,117 n rc Onfi, a n fififlrinfT Clothing store To the Daily: THE WILD'S Men's Shop, a clothing store on State Street near North University, has a large decal on its display window: a sort of blackface style caricature of a black man dressed in a leopard skin. This is the trademark of the store and is supposed to repre- sent a "wild man". I find it racist, and offensive. I went in and told this to one of the people who run the store, and asked if the decal could be removed. He was friendly enough about it, and said that it was his opinion that the decal w a s not racist and not offensive, that it had been the store's trademark for eighty years, and that in the years that he had worked there, this was the first time anyone had complained. So why don't all who are inter- ested in this go down to the store and look at the decal. If you find it offensive, go in and complain, or get in touch with me. If a fair number of people turn out to be into this, then we can play it by ear from there. I was originally thinking of organizing a boycott against the store, but I don't want to do a thing like that unless I'm sure there is a just reason. David Strecker 4 4 'yw , r 4 '.