Dear President Biden,

I emigrated from The Netherlands in 1957 at the age of four. My life in America has been hard and painful for many reasons. My family struggled with discrimination against poor immigrants, even from people in our church, which we faithfully attended. My parents are very religious and raised us accordingly.

Adapting to American culture was very difficult for my parents. My siblings and I adjusted so much faster because of our young age.

            As a child, my father always told me that I can become anything I want in America.

What he obviously didn’t know that was a lie. I was denied a higher education because I was white and poor.

            During this period in history, educational loans were not available for lower-income families.

            Affirmative Action became law so African Americans would have a chance to attend college. I resented this unfair law, which favored only African Americans. I fully understand the reasons for the law; however, I don’t understand why all the white children from low-income families were not eligible? We were all left behind waiting for an equal chance to attend college.

            I have mixed feelings about the Supreme Court’s decision to abolish Affirmative Action.

I never thought Affirmative Action was fair because it only helped African Americans. I would never deny anyone a college education.

            Affirmative Action should include “All” American Citizens according to income. In Holland higher education is considered free; however, families still pay a reasonable amount with regard to what they can handle in their income bracket. This allows everyone to attend college. You cannot expect a law to be fair to the whole of society when the law only helps a certain racial group.

Eventually at age nineteen I took out a student loan and attended community college.

I became a medical laboratory technician and earned my associate degree in the top percent of my class. I worked for many years in the field of medical technology. The years I missed in college affected my entire life.

I returned to college at Ramapo State College hoping to get a bachelor’s degree in business; unfortunately, I was unable to finish because by that time I was married and having our first baby. Finally, I was able to finish my college education at Suffolk University at the age of 60. I majored in journalism with a concentration in marketing. I graduated Suma Cum Laude.

  If I was able to get my BS degree at the age of twenty, I may have had a chance for a lifelong career. I am happy I finally have my undergraduate degree and would still love to get my master’s degree; however, at my age, I can’t afford to go back to school.  

            A new law for education should be fair to all our citizens!

            Please read my memoir about my life in 1969. I truly believe you will respond to my letter. Perhaps you will understand that in a democratic multi-culture society, laws must be fair to all the people.

Chapter 8 Eastside High School, 1969

 Anxiously waiting for the class bell to ring, Ayla stares at a huge clock, hanging straight in front of her. History class is always her favorite; except today, she found it hard to focus. Ayla has good grades and really loves to learn; however, these days learning at Eastside High School is a challenge. Today is important. Today Ayla will find out if she can go to college.

            It is April 1969. Ayla is fifteen years old in her sophomore year at Eastside High School, in Paterson, New Jersey. She decided to set up an appointment with her guidance counselor after listening carefully to a few students’ conversations about attending college and how they needed to get started early on decisions and certain paperwork before starting their junior year.

              The information Ayla received about college was only what could be heard in the schoolyard. It was from the few Jewish students that she found preparations for attendance to college were beginning. Ayla was not in the Jewish clique and never would be. She didn’t understand why they wouldn’t take her into their group as a friend. The Jewish students treated her kindly, however, Ayla learned soon enough that the Jewish students she wanted to befriend did not particularly want to associate with her, even though she competed with them successfully in attaining the highest grades in class. She also heard that several black students were planning to attend college on grants through “Affirmative Action” available for higher education, which meant they could go to college for free. Ayla thought her family was so poor that she might have a chance as well for financial aid. Why not, she thought. She thought, I am poorer than many of these black students and her grades were outstanding.

            Ayla couldn’t help looking at the clock every few minutes while trying her best to concentrate on the lecture. Finally, the bell rang, and she was right out the door heading towards the guidance department. Rushing to avoid the oncoming onslaught of students, she ran down the glum corridor toward the stairs. Ayla wasn’t in a rush for the meeting, but to avoid any altercations from black students along the way. It would be nice to have a few friends to walk with, however, they had to be in class, she stressed. Ayla hated to be along in the dark dreary hallways and corridors, since at any given moment her hair would be pulled out of her skull, or she would be pushed down on the ground and stomped, or worse.

            She must be fast. Ayla turned right towards the dark stairwell. Maybe with some luck, they won’t bother me. She hugged the right side of the stairs, walking as quickly as possible, trying not to be noticed by the black girls emerging upward to classes on the second level. They haven’t noticed me; I must keep moving. Finally, Ayla made it to the ground floor and headed straight ahead toward the guidance department.

            Ayla entered the guidance office with apprehension. She knew many black students were going to college through a new government program. If the Jewish students are going to college, and the black students are going to college, so why not I?

             The guidance counselor, after asking Ayla about her father’s income and trade, told her that unless her father and mother have saved up enough money for her college tuition and attendance, it will not be possible for her to go to college. Ayla protested, “My parent’s income is very low, and they have been saving since we moved to this country for their first house. They do not have money to send me to college. We are in the same economic situation as the black families.” “Why can African Americans get help with grants for college, and I can’t?”

             The guidance counselor leaned toward Ayla and quietly told her, “Your skin is not the right color; I am so sorry.” This just cannot be true; there must be a way, Ayla insisted. Ayla notices deep regret in his eyes. She fully comprehends his statement and realizes her worst fear. College was not meant for a poor immigrant’s daughter in America. Ayla said in resignation, “Thank you for your time,” and left the office holding back tears and anger.

             So here I am, in the land of opportunity that has made it clear, I am not worthy of a college education. If I were black or rich, I would be able to go, but not if you’re an immigrant’s daughter. My father was totally wrong about everything. He has ruined my chances for college. He should off never moved our family to this country. This is it. My life will be nothing more than working at a boring mundane job, just as boring as the rest of my life.

             The appointment was made several days ago, giving her time to rehearse her questions. Boston University was the college Ayla was interested in attending. The Jewish girls always talked about getting into Boston University, and Boston campuses were becoming popular in the news. Besides, she knew there would be no hope for a future without a college education and her family life was unbearable. More than anything in the world, Ayla wanted to be away from home, away from her strict abusive father, and weak mother, and start her own life. Ayla’s guidance counselor the previous year had told her she had a high IQ, and her grades were consistently exceptional. She was told she excelled in academics. Ayla loved to learn; in previous years she enjoyed all her classes. Knowing she had the grades and ability to attend college prompted Ayla to explore her possibilities.

             It certainly wasn’t her father who talked about college. When Ayla asked about college, he told her it would not be possible and never gave an explanation. In fact, her father never explained any of his actions or non-actions, regardless of the situation. Ayla’s father, Peter Paurin, had never finished high school, and possibly not even elementary school. She didn’t know much about her father because he never divulged his past. When asked about his past and family, she only received bits and pieces of a story left forever incomplete and incomprehensible.

            Instead of returning to class, she decided to go somewhere to think. It was raining, so Ayla headed for the corner coffee shop, which was now only inhabited by several other white and black students cutting class. There was no way to go home, so she purchased a coffee and sat in a booth alone thinking. If there ever was a defining moment in Ayla’s life this was one, she would never forget. The magnitude of this injustice overwhelmed her.

             Ayla felt despair and hopelessness. She was planning to stay in school and survive two more years if she could go to college. Now everything has changed. She thinks there is no hope for an education, or a good future in this country, at least not for her. Father lied to me, or he is just stupid. Repeatedly, he said, in America you can become anything you want to be. How can this be? I have just been told I can become nothing more than I am now.

             Ayla thinks despairingly. Why should I stay here and be harassed and hurt for another year just to study fifth-grade reading and writing? Most black students cannot multiply, divide, read, or write. Why are they in high school? Why should I be in high school? I cannot learn anymore here; what is the purpose if I am not able to continue my education.  Why go to a school every day to be beaten up by black kids when you weren’t learning anything?

            To make matters worse, Ayla remembered the letters from her Aunt Annika in Holland. Ayla’s mother received letters every week from her sister in Holland, letting all of us know how wonderful everything was with her family. Ayla remembered her aunt saying that her first cousins, all around her age, were starting entrance exams for the university. She really did not understand the educational system in Holland but knew her cousins were planning on attending college and some had already started their higher education. Ayla mistakenly assumed her mother’s family was wealthy in comparison to her immediate family struggling in the U.S. Since Ayla was a young child, her mother told her that life was so much better in Holland. How she envied her cousins. Cousins she never met and had never spoken with. Holland was a place so far away, it seemed irrelevant to her present life; however, she paid more attention to the letters as they revealed information on the progress of her cousin’s pursuit of higher education.

            The education Ayla was receiving wasn’t up to the standards of previous years. The influx of illiterate black students virtually reduced lectures into elementary reading and writing classes, which meant, the few students on grade level, were ignored. Classes became extremely boring for Ayla. The constant fear of attacks caused her extreme stress and anxiety. Unknown to Ayla, Eastside High School was in the initial stage of becoming one of the most dangerous high schools in the country, so notorious that a movie was made years later about a principal who finally got control of the high school through unconventional means. The movie was named, “Lean on Me,” starring Morgan Freeman in 1989.          

            It was winter 1969, shortly after the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. Ayla was going to school. After getting off the bus in downtown Paterson, Ayla and her two friends, Judy, and Gina, started walking towards the side street they had to enter to reach the front entrance of the large high school.

            Christmas had just ended, so Judy and Gina were wearing their new winter coats, which Ayla admired so much.

            She thought about how nice it would be to get a brand-new coat for Christmas but knew that it would never happen. Ayla’s father never bought them clothes or shoes unless the last purchased item was falling off their backs and feet.

             Deep wet snow and slush hindered their walk up the street as they headed toward the main crossroad. It was a messy, wet, winter day. The sky was a dark grey as wet snow fell and the wind between the tall grey buildings was chilling to the bone.  They had to cross the road to reach the long front yard of the school. Ayla and her friends were stressed as they approached the crowds of black students hanging out before school crosswalk at the top of the street. Ayla held her breath as she walked. Thinking, not today. All three frightened girls were hoping that today they would be able to cross the street without getting hurt.

            Several black students grabbed Judy and Gina, throwing them down into the messy slush and snow, and dragging them on their faces across the road. Ayla is horrified and terrified at the same time; however, there was nothing she could do. She dared not protest if the black students would attack her; however, no one touched her. Helping the girls get up, and away from the angry black students, Ayla felt she would never be able to finish high school in such a violent hostile environment. Judy was crying with wet dirt and slush dripping down her face. Both their new coats and books were soaked. Once in the building, they went to the nurse’s office, where their parents picked them up from school. After that day her friends and neighbors no longer were attending Eastside High.

             Instinctively, Ayla had realized from the start of racial trouble at school, she had to protect herself. She was so angry with the black kids for crying about discrimination when she and her friends are the ones being discriminated against for being white. Ayla’s mind raced. I wasn’t even born in this country, knew nothing about slavery, and was certainly not responsible for the suffering of racial discrimination in the South. Ayla knew she had done nothing to be treated so badly and was determined not to let anyone attack her. If anyone comes towards me and tries to hurt me, I will fight so hard; no one will ever touch me again. Ayla approached the crosswalk corner with her friends each holding on to each other’s free arms. Ayla stared at the black students hard in the eyes, as if to provoke them. Try to touch me and you will rip you apart. Ayla’s resolution was never to let anyone physically harm her again.

            Despite the fear, her inner confidence and strength are growing; she was learning how to survive an urban nightmare. Ayla realized she had to give an outward tough persona to avoid racial harm, however, her personality and looks portrayed the opposite. Her pale complexion, tall slender body, long blond hair, and pale green eyes gave Ayla a soft appearance, as gentile and kind as her true nature, which made looking fierce a problem. Her light visual feature was more than enough to insight into an assault. She believed it was the look in Aria’s eyes that made the angry black students think before attacking her. Yet despite the constant terror, her resolve holds firm. The black students seem to be content with making horrible comments and pulling Ayla’s hair when they can get away with it. Ayla has learned to stand firm in the face of aggression.

            Spring is coming with an increase in racial tension and anti-Vietnam War protests. Racial riots and violence plagued major cities the year before and there seemed to be no resolution in sight. The violence at Eastside High School continued until it became intolerable for Ayla or her sister to remain in school.     

            Ayla was cutting class on a regular basis during the fall of her sophomore year, however, continued to attend classes occasionally fearing her father’s uncontrollable temper. One day she was in the cafeteria with all the other students getting lunch. Feeling an angry tension in the air she walked towards a table instead of going straight for the food line. The next thing Ayla heard was a loud banging. She looked around to see where the sound was coming from. The cafeteria was huge, filled with students, mostly black. She could see some black students banging their metal trays on the long metal tables. As other black students started the same, the sound started to increase in intensity. The sound was so loud, Ayla instinctively knew to leave the building as fast as possible.

             Struggling to get through the angry crowd, she headed towards the exit stairwell early enough to avoid the stampede. The sound reached its peak; when suddenly, she heard tables being thrown against the green cement walls. Tables were flying across the room, lunch counter workers fled, teachers were not to be seen, and everything was being destroyed.

             Once outside the building, Ayla could hear police sirens heading in the direction of the school. Once again Ayla cut class to avoid the chaos. She hung out with a few boys who had quit school, drinking coffee at the corner store, and talking about cool music and what was going on with the Vietnam War. Afterward, taking the bus home, she would explain what happened at school, which landed on deaf ears. Later, Ayla found out the police had to use tear gas to disperse the violent crowd at Eastside High School.

             Again, her parents did nothing to ease her stress. Ayla’s anger towards her parents grew; she started to believe they didn’t care about her wellbeing. What kind of parents do I have? How could they not care about what happens to me at school? Ayla knew they had to know what was going on at the high school since it was always in the local news; yet they insisted she attend.

             Ayla did not fully understand her father’s issues in communication with other Americans. Peter Paurin avoided asking anyone for information because his comprehension of English was lacking, especially when people talked fast. His suborn pride prevented him from asking for help concerning his children’s safety at school. Ayla’s father knew there were problems at the high school, but was unable to seek other educational options, or, at least in Ayla’s mind, he was just thinking of himself and his goal of buying our family’s first house. Ayla’s father felt a higher education for women was ridiculous and he had neither the money, nor inclination, to ever consider such nonsense. Ayla knew her family would never be able to afford a college education for her and her sisters and brother.

            Teachers were known to be assaulted, and tear gas was used to dispense riots. Finally one day Ayla heard rumors about gunshots being heard at the high school, which was confirmed on the evening news.

             Ayla was cutting every day through this period; during which, she made friends with a group of young teenagers, who seemed as lost as her. In her mind, these friends understood her pain, understood her anger over social injustice, and the establishment that validated these injustices. It was the sixties, and Ayla considered herself a member of the anti-war movement and held antigovernment views. As a hippie, she began to feel accepted in a group of peers, something that eluded her through high school.

            It was 1969, the spring semester at Eastside High School when Ayla had reached her limits. One day, Ayla’s parents received a letter from the high school stating the severe lack of her attendance. The letter stated concern because she is an excellent student. Ayla then found the strength to tell her parents she would never attend Eastside High School again because she quit. After crying, fighting, and a lot of screaming, her father cornered her in the tiny bedroom. He tried to untie his belt. Ayla grabbed his arm and pushed him hard backward with the other, yelling, “I am not going to let you or anyone else ever hurt me again.” You may be my father, but you won’t hurt me again. You never had a right to hurt me. As of now, you will never hurt me again. “Do you hear me, Dad? I will never let you hurt me again, and I am not going back to school, it’s dangerous,” Ayla yelled while running down the stairs out of the apartment.

            Defiantly, she stayed out for the night and took Teakla with her. Ayla and Teakla had the same issues at school, which for a period brought them closer together. Ayla vowed never to be forced into anything that would harm her, and if that meant quitting high school, so be it. What is the use of high school if she would never attend college? What would the purpose be to attend school while you’re constantly under the stress of physical harm?

            Early in September of Ayla’s junior year, the day finally came when Ayla’s father decided to take Teakla, a freshman, out of the high school. Teakla came home from school one day with large chunks of her hair pulled out at the root. Bleeding and in pain her sister cried uncontrollably. She did not want to return to high school. Ayla will never forget Teakla’s head oozing blood from the multiple bald spots where her hair was ripped out from the roots. Teakla was transferred to Manchester Regional High School in October 1969, a public regional high school closer to home than Eastside High, yet in another district. Both of Ayla’s younger sisters, Teakla and Ruth eventually graduated from Manchester Regional High School. Ayla’s brother, Joshua, was in elementary school, which was still reasonably safe. Ayla, however, was special, and sent to Eastern Christian High School, in Haledon, New Jersey, a private Christian Reformed high school. Ayla also moved in with the Van Zenten family at the same time. That December, she would turn sixteen years old.

             The family’s church supported the private high school and all the member’s children attended, except the Paurin family. Ayla’s father finally requested financial help from the church to send his oldest daughter to Eastern Christian High, since Ayla had quit attending Eastside High School in Paterson. Mr. and Mrs. Paurin were attempting to turn their daughter around from the destructive behavior she was embracing. They hoped by sending Ayla to Eastern Christian High School, she would change her negative behavior. In addition, the pastor of their church invited Ayla to stay with his family for a period, while attending Eastern Christian High School. Reverend Van Zenten was aware of Ayla’s father and mother’s situation and wanted to help alleviate the tension in their home. Ayla was sent to live with the Van Zenten family on a trial basis during her junior year. 

            Ayla was totally rebellious against her home situation, which no one seemed to understand. Her dreams were crushed, and her hope was slim. She was always an extremely deep thinker, extremely smart, and felt totally misunderstood. The music and social unrest of the sixties only encouraged her rebellious nature. Ayla considered herself an urban hippie and by now was accustomed to smoking marijuana, which she enjoyed socially. Ayla had made friends who had quit high school like her and was unlikely to give them up. For Ayla, Eastern Christian High School came far too late.

            Ayla thought deeply about social injustice and understood the pain of African Americans at the hand of racism. After all, she had felt the raft of their anger and sought to learn about African American history. She knew they deserved a chance at higher education, decent employment, and above all, basic civil rights. What Ayla couldn’t understand was why she was excluded. Wasn’t this the land of equal opportunity? Where was my American dream? America had excluded her from a higher education based on her family’s economic situation, yet the families of poor African Americans were allowed to attend college.

             Ayla started to question her mother, “Why did you leave Holland when you knew life would be better for us there?”  “How could you leave a great life in Holland to come, and suffer here as poor immigrants?” Ayla asked. Ayla wanted to know what it cost to attend a university in the Netherlands. It took a great deal of time, but finally, her mother sent a letter to her sister requesting the answers to Ayla’s questions. When the answer arrived, it was just as Ayla suspected. Higher Education was basically free in the Netherlands to all citizens since World War II, regardless of the economic situation. Anger towards her parents overwhelmed her, especially her father.

             Ayla felt her father had pushed his family to immigrate to this horrible country from a country that would have given her a free and equal chance at college. As usual, her father had made a terrible decision by emigrating from the Netherlands to the U.S.A. As usual, he was wrong. As usual, he would never admit it, because he truly believed he was always right.

            Ayla suffered from “anomie”; which, according to the strain theory of sociologist Emile Durheim is what occurs when people are not provided with the institutionalized means to achieve their goals, thus causing the feeling of being disconnected from society. Anti-establishment rhetoric justified Ayla’s negative feelings toward America. Ayla was in a state of rebellion against her parent’s ideals and old-world standards, as well as the country, which denied her a higher education. For a young woman trying to establish her way in an indifferent world, these were emotionally traumatic years.

Ayla’s memories:

            I remember the night Teakla and I ran away from home. We got picked up by police shortly afterward and sent to a juvenile detention center overnight. My father suggested to the police that sending us there overnight might teach us a lesson. It just made me very angry. We stayed up all night waiting to go home.

 The trouble in our home relations became extremely strained, escalating my rebellious nature.  I was in a state of depression, feeling my future had no place good to go.

Hope for a positive future was gone. I became an angry, depressed young adult. I realize now that the lack of hope hurt and damaged my future life.

Anya Morgan