that her father had recently begun working two jobs, as a janitor and a coachman, cleaning up after and transporting white wealthy Bostonians. She couldn’t announce that she lived in the city’s Negro neighborhood or that she had never left the state of Massachusetts until she was an adolescent, and still had not traveled beyond the Northeast. Was she supposed to talk about her profound fear that she would grow so comfortable at Vassar that her secret would burst out of her like a sneeze? That she would accidentally mention something about her background, her education, her family that would expose her true origins? Or should she admit that she was not supposed to be speaking to him at all? That he should stay away from her, because she was the thing the world reviled most: a Negro woman?
Instead, Anita looked up at his handsome face, smilingwhen she saw the freckles on his short nose, and said, “I hope to be a professor after years more study. I’d like to teach Greek, perhaps even here, as I am happy at Vassar and very afraid to leave.”
They walked away from the building, past the museum housing the hall of casts, the art gallery, and the museum of mineralogy and toward the school’s stone western wall. Beyond that was the large lake across Raymond Avenue, the one the girls skated on when the water froze and created beautiful white veins on the surface.
Porter let Anita lead him around the campus and inquired more about her future plans, asking why she hoped to teach.
“Nearly forty percent of the students who graduate from Vassar go on to teach,” she explained. “There are not many other professions open to women, are there? When I first applied to the school, I had my mind set on being a high school teacher, perhaps at the school where I prepped for the entrance exam. But living here, meeting female college professors, being exposed to their levels of learning, I changed my mind. I can’t imagine another school as invested in women’s education as Vassar. It’s not just a finishing school masquerading as a college. The expansion of a woman’s mind is the primary goal here, and the curriculum is just as vigorous as at a men’s college. They want us to be intelligent, academic women first, and everything else comes second, quite the opposite of the priorities in the outside world. I feel like I’ve come alive here, Porter,” she disclosed, surprising herself with the fervor in her voice. “I feel safe, and if I could hold on to that feeling forever, well, I would be very fulfilled.”
“That sounds like a realistic goal,” said Porter, watching her face become beautifully animated.
“I hope so,” she replied. “Though I must confess, a small part of me still dreams of becoming a Greek translator, or perhaps an archaeologist, but I don’t think those are possibilities for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“Female.”
“I am awfully glad you’re female,” he said as the stone gate at the corner of Raymond and College View avenues came into sight. “And you shouldn’t be scared to leave Vassar, as beautiful as it is. You’re going to do wonderful things when you graduate, I can tell. And Vassar will be right here waiting for your return.”
“I hope so,” Anita said, thinking how much she liked being gated inside the Vassar world. “If I could just make it to Greece one day—to see Delphi, the Temple of Apollo at Bassae, the city of Rhodes—that would be a dream. If I have to leave Vassar, I’d like to see a little more of the world than Boston and Poughkeepsie.”
Porter nodded. Anita guessed, from his expression, that he had already been to a great many places, but instead of boasting about his travels, he told her about his life in Chicago and his plans to work for his father’s lumber company after graduating from Harvard.
“You would fall under Chicago’s spell, Anita,” he said. “The population has tripled since 1880; skyscrapers are rising up
Instead, Anita looked up at his handsome face, smilingwhen she saw the freckles on his short nose, and said, “I hope to be a professor after years more study. I’d like to teach Greek, perhaps even here, as I am happy at Vassar and very afraid to leave.”
They walked away from the building, past the museum housing the hall of casts, the art gallery, and the museum of mineralogy and toward the school’s stone western wall. Beyond that was the large lake across Raymond Avenue, the one the girls skated on when the water froze and created beautiful white veins on the surface.
Porter let Anita lead him around the campus and inquired more about her future plans, asking why she hoped to teach.
“Nearly forty percent of the students who graduate from Vassar go on to teach,” she explained. “There are not many other professions open to women, are there? When I first applied to the school, I had my mind set on being a high school teacher, perhaps at the school where I prepped for the entrance exam. But living here, meeting female college professors, being exposed to their levels of learning, I changed my mind. I can’t imagine another school as invested in women’s education as Vassar. It’s not just a finishing school masquerading as a college. The expansion of a woman’s mind is the primary goal here, and the curriculum is just as vigorous as at a men’s college. They want us to be intelligent, academic women first, and everything else comes second, quite the opposite of the priorities in the outside world. I feel like I’ve come alive here, Porter,” she disclosed, surprising herself with the fervor in her voice. “I feel safe, and if I could hold on to that feeling forever, well, I would be very fulfilled.”
“That sounds like a realistic goal,” said Porter, watching her face become beautifully animated.
“I hope so,” she replied. “Though I must confess, a small part of me still dreams of becoming a Greek translator, or perhaps an archaeologist, but I don’t think those are possibilities for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“Female.”
“I am awfully glad you’re female,” he said as the stone gate at the corner of Raymond and College View avenues came into sight. “And you shouldn’t be scared to leave Vassar, as beautiful as it is. You’re going to do wonderful things when you graduate, I can tell. And Vassar will be right here waiting for your return.”
“I hope so,” Anita said, thinking how much she liked being gated inside the Vassar world. “If I could just make it to Greece one day—to see Delphi, the Temple of Apollo at Bassae, the city of Rhodes—that would be a dream. If I have to leave Vassar, I’d like to see a little more of the world than Boston and Poughkeepsie.”
Porter nodded. Anita guessed, from his expression, that he had already been to a great many places, but instead of boasting about his travels, he told her about his life in Chicago and his plans to work for his father’s lumber company after graduating from Harvard.
“You would fall under Chicago’s spell, Anita,” he said. “The population has tripled since 1880; skyscrapers are rising up
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