CAMPUS BLOTTER: SHOWDOWN AT SARDUCCI'S
Last Tuesday, the 14th of March, several paid consultants visited Goddard's campus as part of animations and recruitment "audit". Included in the two-day whirlwind visit was a scheduled dinner at Montpelier's Sarducci's restaurant, known as one of the better local dining establishments. A group of students, including this writer, learned of this dinner while sitting in our own cafeteria.
Appalled that the consultants were being deprived of the food and, more importantly, company available at Goddard, we decided to redress the latter grievance by leaping into our various vehicles and flying with wings at our heels to Montpelier. There were nine of us all told -- Pamela Tuffley, Kristen Hill, Laura Peterson, Sarah French, Marlo Jacobson, Nathan Groupp, Jennifer Pia, Jeanette Bacevius, and the writer. Upon arriving, we ensconced ourselves at the entrance to Sarducci's, hunkered down in the damp cold, and waited.
We didn't, as it turned out, have all that long to wait. President Greene was already in the parking lot, and seemed tickled to see us -- until we unfurled our protest signs and he realized why we were there. Greene's smile slipped a notch as he looked over signs reading "Goddard College: Its A Great Place To Visit, But You Wouldn't Want To Eat There", and "Isn't NECI good enough for you?", but he remained gracious as he passed by us, stopping only long enough to receive one of the Flyers we had hastily printed up. He scanned the Flyers, which pointed out (among other things) that the cost of the dinner he was about to enjoy was going to cost more than he entire budget cut to the campus Wimmin's Center. Smiling vaguely at us, he moved on inside, accompanied by the flashing bowls of our attending photographers.
Nancy Kin, Goddard's chief financial officer, was next to arrive. She seemed less pleased to see us than Greene had been, but also took a flyer as she hurried past us to the safety of the restaurant's interior.
The consulting team was the last group to arrive, and we went all out for them. As the trio mounted the stairs to Sarducci's porch, we greeted them with waiting signs, whirring cameras, flyers and a rather chaotic attempt at a rousing protests song. It appeared, at first, as though they would not stop for us at all, but several protesters slipped between them and the door, ensuring that they were each able to receive a flyer before pushing on inside.
It is at this point, with the intended targets past and the
temperature dropping, that lesser protesters would have rolled up their banners and gone home for a well-deserved hot chocolate. In fact, I suggested, much to my lasting chagrin, that we do just that. My fellow protesters, however, averred with one voice that they intended to wait on the porch until the consultants came out for a smoke, and have another go at them. Embolden by the cunning of using our targets' own nicotine addictions against them, I rejoined my fellow picketeers around the front door, stamping my feet to keep the circulation going. Some of the more inventive students began aggressively smoking in full view of the dining area, hoping to draw out the cigarette-deprived within.
It wasn't long before we received the first reward for our perseverance. As we discussed amongst ourselves the possibility that people might be mistaking our signs, songs and overall attitude as some sort of boycott of Sarducci's itself, and impeccably groomed and dressed white-haired gentlemen who'd just come out of the restaurant for a smoke strode over to us. He introduced himself as Jerry Morrisey, a member of the State Senate, and asked us what we were up to.
Glad to have someone to talk to, we showed him our signs and flooded the poor fellow with information about what was going on at Goddard -- the budget cuts, the consultation, the frictions between the administration and the community, the dinner that was going on even as we spoke. "It's as if", one student summed up, "a gigantic conservative wave has swept across the campus."
Jerry Morrisey grinned and said nothing. With a sinking feeling, we asked him what party he represented. "Oh," he crawled as he grin widened, "conservative Republican".
Once the momentary embarrassment had faded, we continue to talk with Mr. Morrisey, who appeared to be very sympathetic to our cause. In fact, during one of his many visits to the porch to smoke (Mr. Morrisey, it must be said, smokes rather a lot, though we flattered ourselves to think that part of his time on the porch was due to an interest in the spectacle we were creating), we even convinced him to join our picket line, holding a Goddard College sign proudly at the door to the restaurant. "I don't understand the problem", Morrisey said at one point. "If you were paying me $10,000 each a semester, I'd listened to anything you wanted to say."
We were still cheering this comment when a well-meaning but nearsighted Goddard student, apparently mistaking Morrisey for President Greene, drove by, yelling, "Hey, Dick, What'd you do with my tuition money?"
Jerry Morrisey watched in silence as the car sped away up the road, then turned a raised eyebrow on the crowd of us, who were rocking with helpless laughter. "Well, I'll tell you," he said when we finally calmed ourselves down, "y'all get an A for effort, anyway."
As the minutes slowly turned into hours, our spirits began to suffer from prolonged exposure to the elements. Rumors flew back and forth (not an easy thing to do in a group of nine people, but they manage it nonetheless). At one point, we became convinced that the Maiter'D was calling the cops on us, and began to rehearse meaningful songs to sing to the officers when they arrived (we also received valuable advice from one of the protesters, who advised us that when in the presence of cops, we should never, ever say the word "gun"). Another rumor, that the consultants were sneaking out the back door for cigarettes, resulted in several of us running around the building, peering in doors and windows to ensure that no one got in our out without us knowing about it. Sarah, having been voted the least likely to get thrown out of the restaurant, ran reconnaissance, returning with the breathless report that "they started on dessert!"
By this time, several other members of the state Senate had come by to see what we were doing, and a few more held our signs for a few minutes, making for what must've been one of the oddest picket lines this state has seen in years. In our proudest moment, our allies even included members of both political parties on the line at the same time -- leading to speculation that perhaps all the government really needs to run smoothly is regular and prolonged exposure to Goddard students. David Larsen (D) informed us that he was glad that we were so dedicated to our school, but that we really ought to get warm somewhere, which he then proceeded to do himself by going back into the restaurant.
Finally, at about 8:30, nearly two hours after the protest had begun, two of the consultants gave into their nicotine cravings and came out to meet us. Smoking furiously, they chatted with us for awhile about why we'd come out to see them, and what we were hoping to achieve by doing so.
We felt so dedicated that we didn't even sing at their backs as they headed for their cars. 
Photo opportunities abound as President Greene
and Nancy Kin exit Sarducci's. (photo by Kristin Hill)
State representative Jerry Morrissey and his fellow protesters outside the doors of Sarducci's (photo arranged by Kristin Hill)
They were receptive to the idea that we might have more to tell them then we'd been given the opportunity to do thus far. Finally, as Richard and Nancy appeared with the third consultant, we agreed to meet again the next day at lunch. In the cafeteria.
Tension mounts as the two factions confront one another. (photo by Kristin Hill)
