Malaise at Afternoon Tea: A Portrait Of Wellesley and the Girls Who Go There

One evening last December five girls were skipping arm in arm down a country road singing "Yellow submarine" at the top of their lungs. They wore knee socks and ski parkas and could have passed for happy camp-fire girls. Actually, they were Wellesley sophomores travelling from the library to the dining hall. An unofficial count revealed that 29 per cent of all Wellesley girls wear knee socks during the week.

Wellesley College was founded in 1870 by Henry Fowle Durant as a Christian college dedicated to "the glorification of God through the higher education of women." It is located on a peaceful clump of green field that looks like ten or twelve Harvard Yards thrown together. There are no men around except for a few janitors and stray faculty. Of course there are young men about on Friday and Saturday nights, and for Tuesday night coffee, Wednesday afternoon tea and Sunday noon dinner; but they hardly cause a stir. They always wear easy sport coats and speak infrequently and quietly. Dates without sport coats do not come out to Wellesley for dinner.

The Profile

The two pictures are not mutually exclusive. They characterize the extremes of Wellesley College. Twenty years ago Wellesley was a different place, perhaps more sophisticated, certainly more socially select. Today Wellesley is a home for 1,750 primarily middle class girls who, by virtue of their capabilities and education, are felling the brunt of the evolution of the feminine mystique. Late last November, the CRIMSON distributed 180 questionnaires at random to girls in each dormitory. A few weeks later, 140 were collected. The following profile is drawn from a compilation of the 53 questions on those 140 questionnaires.

The family background is one of affluence. More than 80 per cent of these girls have lived or traveled outside the United States. Nine out of ten of their families own their own home and three out of four live in the suburbs. Almost half of their fathers are businessmen, while almost 40 per cent are professional men. Less than one per cent of the fathers are occupied as blue-collar workers. In 90 percent of these '140 families, one or both of the parents attended college, and in 60 per cent of the families at least one parent went to graduate school.

Ivy League

Slightly less than one-third of the fathers graduated from an Ivy League school; a little less than one-fifth of the mothers graduated from Wellesley and another six or seven per cent attended another seven-sister school. Eighty-five per cent of the families own two or more cars, while 30 per cent own three or more. About three out of five of those who answered are Protestant. Around 15 per cent are Jewish and about the same number are non-denominational.

About 80 per cent of these girls are involved in some extra-curricular activity. One-third say they date at least once during the week; and although 60 per cent would prefer to date several boys at the same time, a full 50 per cent say they have "steady" boy friends.

Two out of every three polled feel they can compete equally with the make in professional life. About the same number plan to attend a graduate school after college, while less than one-third plan to go to professional school. Eighty-seven per cent of the girls intend to work between the end of their schooling and marriage; more than half-say they will continue their working career after their marriage, without a time-out for being a housewife.

When confronted with a choice between Peck and Peck, Filene's, and Bobbi Baker, more Wellesley girls would choose to buy their clothes at Peck and Peck, with Filene's running a close second and Bobbi Baker a long third.

The moral attitude of the Wellelsey girl appears relativistic and sometimes self-contradicting. Three-quarters of these girls would not smoke marijuana, while almost nine-tenths have never smoked it. Most girls who refused to smoke it declared they had no curiosity about marijuana. On the other hand, only 40 per cent of the girls who answered the question are opposed to sexual intercourse before marriage, although more than 70 per cent of them had not had sexual intercourse when they filled out the questionnaire. In this case, the principal objection to intercourse was a moral one.

Most Wellesley girls would like to get married only after working awhile after the completion of college. Sixty per cent of the girls would not marry a man of a different race, while only 26 per cent would refused to marry somebody of another religion. Sixty per cent of the girls reported on the questionnaire that before attending Wellesley they had never been in a class with two or more Negroes.

There seems to be little political impetus at Wellesley. About 20 per cent of the girls declared themselves Democrats and another 20 per cent said they were Republicans. But the majority said they were unaffiliated. About half of the girls are unaffiliated liberals and close to ten per cent aligned themselves with conservatives. But only about 15 per cent would like to join SDS and an even smaller number are opposed to the present 2-S draft deferment.

A large percentage of these 140 girls are dissatisfied with Wellesley. Of those applicants initially accepted, 28 per cent turn Wellesley down. More than one-third of the girls who filled out the questionnaire said if they could choose again they would not go to Wellesley. All in all, only 80 per cent of the original Wellesley freshmen class goes on to graduate.

There is a reason for this malaise. The problem is that Wellesley has not been able to keep up with its students. In the last 30 years, the woman's place in society has been changed radically, always moving inexorably towards social and economic equality with men. But womens colleges were invented to serve the unique function of preparing women to compete on unequal terms in a socially unacceptable race. The evolution of women's rights has made the underlying assumption of this special preparation obsolete. This need for the elimination of some of the formerly sacrosanct aspects of the traditional women's college has created an ambivalence in the Wellesley administration toward structural change. Compared to the drastic revolution in women's rights over the last 30 years in the United States, surprisingly little social change has come to Wellesley. And what has changed has done so very slowly.

For instance, the College Government Handbook for 1932-1933 states: "The college dormitories close for the night at ten o'clock, and every student is required to be in her house at that hour, except in the following instances: 1. Seniors and juniors, if accompanied by an escort or a chaperone, or in groups of two or more, may return from the moving pictures in Wellesley Hills or Natick until 11:00 p.m. and from entertainments in Boston until 1:00 a.m., registering at their dormitories. 4. A student registered for an overnight absence from the college must spend the night with an approved chaperone or at the Wellesley Club in Boston."

This is only slightly less lenient than the rules in the College Government Handbook for 1966-1967: "Current social rules require students to be in their residence halls by 11 p.m., unless they have signed out for a later hour or for the night. When away from campus overnight, all students are expected to stay in chaperoned places or respectable hotels."

Trends

The trends are contradictory. Since 1932, the representation of public school has risen 18 per cent over private schools and the number of students from New England and the Middle Atlantic states has shrunk from 75 per cent to 50 per cent. But at the same time there have been moves away from liberalization. In 1932, 20.8 per cent of the student body received financial aid from the college. Today, the portion of the students receiving financial aid has increased by only less than one per cent, although the average size of the financial "gift" has increased substantially more than the rise in tuition. This would indicate that the economic composition of Wellesley has changed little since 1936. The contention is supported by the fact that in the last ten years alone, the number of freshmen with alumnae mothers and grandmothers has barely changed.

The college rules are contained in the Gray Book. Years ago, the Gray Book was an inch thick and each freshman was given a written test on its contents. Now there are no such tests and the Book is thinner. But looks are deceptive. Some rules have been relaxed; others carry their exactitude to ludicrous lengths. If the Gray Book is any clue, Wellesley's heart is still back in the old days.

Tomorrow: The Gray Book, the production ethic, the folklore, and some prognosticating.