Olive Thurman’s Life and Legacy as one of Vassar’s First Black Students

Theater

When she was not working within political and religious spaces, Olive was involved in some theater productions that were mentioned in the Vassar newspapers. According to the articles, Olive must have learned a lot about the craft and herself by being a cast member in these shows. The Experimental Theater’s production of Peer Gynt, in which Olive was cast as a troll and an Arabian, took place over the course of two semesters, because “the five long acts, twenty-some odd scenes, and multitude of characters” made it “practically impossible to cut the play to any extent without cheating the audience, actors, and Mr. Ibsen [the playwright] himself.” ²⁷ If nothing else, the process of preparing for that feat of a play early on in her Vassar career must have taught endurance and community, two necessary components of education-based activism.

The following year, Olive was cast as a maiden in the play Back to Methuselah ²⁸, and the article stated that “through long rehearsals and concentrated drilling, the members of the cast have succeeded in interpreting it with skill.” ²⁹ Olive as a cast member was likely expected to do the “intellectual and philosophical” work necessary to tackle the show. The third play listed in The Miscellany News was the show Spook Sonata, which the 1948 article called “a powerful drama especially suited to the unspecialized theatre in so far as it affords the study of unusual dramatic technique.” ³⁰ In essence, all the plays that Olive was recorded being a part of at Vassar were listed as requiring intense study, and each complimented the actors’ ability to execute their craft. Additionally, the Spook Sonata article had a subheading with details about the set, saying “a great deal of time and work has been put into the production and a number of difficult lighting effects have been employed.” ³¹ I have noticed a trend, both in the articles written about plays Olive was in and in the articles Olive wrote about films and plays, of highlighting all aspects of a production, including the set, music, or costume choices. This norm must have fostered an overall appreciation for people doing all types of work, which seems to have been the attitude Olive carried into her activism as well.

In general, Olive seems to have appreciated when all the different moving parts of theater came together to make the whole. She was attuned to details and devoted time and energy to appreciating all the aspects of her craft. Part of this could also be due to the fact that she was a student under Aline Bernstein, a Tony-winning costume designer, and thus developed a deeper understanding of behind-the-scenes work. Later in her life, when Olive was interviewed for a New York Public Library video detailing Bernstein’s life, she reflected on her time as Bernstein’s student. She recalled that Bernstein took great care in “understanding how things are made,” ³² and in teaching her students to do the same. Olive quoted Bernstein, saying “things look the way they look because they are the way they are.” ³³ In the interview, she seemed to appreciate learning that perspective as a young person. In general, Bernstein’s leadership must have been invaluable for Olive as she found joy, understanding, and purpose in different levels of theater.

In addition to being a drama student, Olive wrote about theater in the newspaper. In 1948, she wrote about a faculty play that “was characterized by spontaneity and lack of self consciousness” and brought Founder’s Day to “a brilliant and hilarious conclusion.” ³⁴ Her background in drama came through in this article as she noted details about the show, such as the “graphic use of sound, sight and movement to complement the spoken word of the actors,” ³⁵ and gave special recognition of the satirical and comedic elements of the production. She concluded with congratulations for not only the performers and the “interesting characters which they created,” but also for the crew and committee “who saw to it that the technical aspect was well-handled.” ³⁶ Her appreciation for and attention to the details of the show both on and off stage demonstrated her care for theater and her knowledge of the art form.

Olive’s article was light and complimentary, but it cannot be ignored that the piece was part of a larger segment that celebrated the 1948 Founder’s Day festivities. Within that segment, on the very same page, was an article that joyfully recounted the performance done by Josselyn House, “a minstrel show complete with men in black-face.” ³⁷ The performance won Josselyn House a silver cup as a prize. In one day, and on one page of the newspaper, Vassar lifted up and rewarded minstrel shows and Blackface as a source of entertainment to “keep the audience happy for the entire afternoon,” ³⁸ while at the same time, one of their few Black students wrote positively about the faculty play. White Vassar students were actively being praised for putting on minstrel shows with their Black classmates right next to them.

I have not found any evidence that Olive spoke out against Blackface at Vassar publicly, but it is not hard to imagine how infuriating and isolating it must have felt to experience that on her campus because Olive did use The Miscellany News to call out a different instance of hypocrisy and racism within student life. In a 1946 public opinion article, Olive, along with three other students, issued a statement of disappointment regarding a song that was played at the second year prom, “Snowball.” They expressed concern over derogatory racialized terms presented in a humorous way, as if that type of language was acceptable or funny at all. The four students wrote that “such a practice has no place in any gathering where a member of the offended group is present or not.” ³⁹ In essence, Olive and her classmates asserted an argument that we still make so often today—that language and content matter in media, that people, organizations, and power structures such as Vassar have a responsibility to demonstrate safety and inclusion for all students, and that oppression needs to be combated even and especially in situations where the oppressed groups are not present. The group did not hold back on their criticism of Vassar students and Vassar as an institution for allowing the song to play. They wrote that to hear the song “was a great shock coming from people who consider themselves well bred and intelligent.” ⁴⁰ They said it was “in the worst possible taste” and “inexcusably stupid” that the song’s “‘humor’ depends on such derogatory terms as ‘coon,’ ‘pickaninny’ and ‘snowball.’” ⁴¹ The students wished instead that “American culture develop a more mature and civilized kind of humor.” ⁴² The group concluded with the statement that “it is imperative that the students of Vassar College stop condoning such customs.” The scathing takedown of people’s intelligence and humor seems unlike Olive, as most of her other work showcases a general spirit of patience and understanding. However, this anger is important to the reality of what being a Black Vassar student must have been like in the 1940s. This article made it clear to her classmates that she had no tolerance for their racism, and that they were not going to have the privilege of benefitting from her usual educational approach when they displayed such blatant disrespect.

The introductory article from The Vassar Chronicle mentioned Olive’s impressive resume within political and religious spaces, but it also stated that she planned to study drama, and wanted to “use her dramatic training in community center work with children.” Before she started at Vassar, community-centered education work was Olive’s focus even in her artistic endeavors. It seems that Olive’s theater experiences at Vassar lived up to her pre-enrollment expectations, taught her valuable skills to use within her activism, and showed her the possibility of a future in both drama and politics.

Film

Olive’s theatrical interests were not limited to the stage, she also proved herself to be a fan of films. In the agenda for the Interfaith meeting she presided over, the group discussed asking the Faculty Film Committee to provide films about “current religious problems such as Zionism to the college.” It seems that for Olive, film was another useful method of advocacy and education, and she enjoyed sharing those experiences with other students. Olive engaged with films with political themes by writing synopses and reviews for the campus in The Miscellany News. In 1946, Olive wrote an article about the French film A Nous La Liberte, a film with “vital social commentary” about “the struggle of individual human liberty to find expression in a mechanized, industrial world.” She must have been interested in the subject to be pursuing engaging avenues for thought and discussion outside of the classroom. Furthermore, she pointed out the “slapstick buffoonery” and the “hilarious comic effects,” but was also clear that the comedy contributed to, and did not distract from, the meaning of the piece. Olive wrote that “the underlying comic buoyancy of A Nous La Liberté is balanced with poignancy and pathos.” She ended the article by writing that she was inspired by the “skillful blending of original artistry and good dramatic form with social commentary, as always an effective contrast to Hollywood.” Olive’s critique of Hollywood films, as well as her clear appreciation for this one, not only showcased her love and knowledge of theater as an art form, it also spoke to a longing for good, meaningful media.

A few weeks later, Olive wrote a review for Song of Ceylon, a documentary “concerning the life and customs of the people of the Island of Ceylon.” In this article, however, she focused on the depiction of Senegalese Buddhist worship in the film. She wrote that “the sight of the moving pilgrims, the silent face and form of the statue of the Buddha, and the flight and fall of the solitary bird… captured a universal experience of worship.” However, her opinion quickly turned critical. Olive wrote that “unfortunately, this excellence of treatment was not retained… and, particularly in the case of the religious dance, became limited and circumscribed.” Olive did not expand on what was “limited and circumscribed” about the depiction of the religious dance, but when Olive wrote this article in 1946, her father had already had experiences such as meeting with Gandhi in South Asia, and she had already been involved in interdenominational and intercultural work. In other words, Olive’s religious understanding was likely much broader and more global than that of her peers, because her father was Howard Thurman.

Just one week after the Song of Ceylon film review, Olive published another article to summarize three documentaries shown by The Political Association: And Now the Peace, Defeated People, and China. She wrote that the first film “gives an explanation of the structure of the UN,” and she conceded that “as an educational film, this has instructive value.” However, she expressed “it is amazing to realize how dated it is only one year after its creation. The consistently optimistic and secure tone of the film is ironic in the light of recent historical events.” Clearly, Olive was not only an active participant in attending film-watching events, but she was also thinking critically about them in relation to her current time.

It speaks volumes that Olive would be involved with watching and writing about so many films with political or religious content, because that truly combined her biggest focuses at Vassar. Film as a medium is an inherently engaging and entertaining way to get information across, and they naturally invite community. Movies events in different halls on campus means that people gathered together to watch, and likely had discussions when they finished. Olive then took it a step further and wrote summaries of the movies, inviting the students who may not have been physically present to be involved in the conversation in some way. In other words, she was a part of making knowledge accessible, fun, and in communion with friends.

In addition to describing the political aspects of the films, Olive often highlighted dramatic techniques in her articles. She defined pantomime in A Nous La Liberte as “an original device in which spoken dialogue is minimized and subordinated to a synthesized rich facial and body pantomime…, dance-like movement, choral singing and orchestral music.” She also pointed out specific scenes in which this effect was used particularly well. Olive then drew attention to the role of music in the film, “serving not only to accompany, but also to interpret the meaning of the [action].” Olive’s theatrical talents were evident in her article about the film La Lettre and Song of Ceylon as well, calling the “distinct use of movement…evident in each of the films of the group.” She wrote La Lettre was “done almost entirely within a limited range of form, area and time, the film achieved historical sequence and accuracy, while retaining visual pleasure.” Olive’s focus on movement, music, form, and visuals in addition to the storyline and message, shows her theatrical knowledge and appreciation for film in general, as well as giving her a leg to stand on in terms of her interpretation of the films. In other words, she seems to have known what she was talking about.

Art

The portrait of Olive at the top of the paper was painted by her friend and fellow 1948 graduate, Phyllis Bronfman Lambert. Though this is the only portrait I have seen, many more paintings of Olive have probably existed because, according to Lambert, Olive was a model for Vassar painting classes. Lambert told me she met Olive in “a painting course and she was modeling for it.” The two became friends, but Lambert was not the only one to paint beautiful portraits of Olive. In The Miscellany News, there was a 1946 article about “‘The Annual Student’s Art Exhibit’” in Taylor Hall, in which a painting of Olive was featured. The article states, “particularly striking is the electrically vibrant portrait of Olive Thurman entitled ‘Olive’ by Audrey Ann Kinney ’47.” Modeling could have been a way for Olive to earn some extra money, or it could have been another means of discovering herself through a different artistic endeavor, or both, but either way, it adds another dimension to who Olive was as a Vassar student. If nothing else, by way of her being a model, she required that students learn how to paint Black skin.

It feels significant that so much of Olive’s story that I am able to uncover comes from her own words in the Vassar newspapers. So much of her campus activism took the form of community education, and it seems that writing in the newspapers was yet another way for Olive to convey her opinions or information not just within her campus community, but also to me. The newspapers serve as a record, and whether or not she was thinking about that at the time, the truth is that with her articles she has educated me and has the potential to educate any future person who reads her writing.

According to Phyllis Lambert, Olive “was a very quiet person, and she was very modest. She was not at all somebody who would be aggressive or complain or talk strongly” I believe this characterization of Olive, and it feels consistent with the story that comes through from the Vassar newspapers. Olive was clearly passionate about so many things—politics, religion, and theater—and she was involved with all three in differently intersecting ways throughout her years. However, she did not seem to be the type to loudly and sensationally antagonize the college or her classmates regarding issues of injustice and ignorance, and as a Black woman in a newly integrated space, Olive likely knew how her approach to activism would impact her opportunities and the opportunities of future Black students. As a result, she did so much powerful and important educational work from within the institution. She worked with and led organized clubs, where she participated in both intellectual discussions and concrete actions, she went to watch parties for political films and reviewed them, she attended a conference on integration, acted in plays, sat on a discussion panel about prejudice, criticized the college, congratulated the college, posed for paintings, wrote in the newspaper, and was a student. Olive was an active member in the life of Vassar College, forcing her classmates and professors to see her as the smart, talented, Black leader she was.

It remains unclear how exactly Howard Thurman may have influenced Olive’s choices and experiences at Vassar. Phyllis Lambert told me that “she never talked to me about her father,” and Olive never wrote about him in her articles. This may have been her way of separating her identity from her father’s and stepping into her own personhood, an understandable choice for any young adult. Regardless, his voice is unmistakable in her work. Howard Thurman’s thoughtfulness, intelligence, and patience are all reflected in Olive. His willingness to give a speech on a segregated campus in 1928, then send his daughter to the same newly integrated campus in 1945, is testament to his belief in change through relationships, education, and continuing to show up. Olive exhibited those same characteristics throughout her time at Vassar, and the Vassar community—the college as an institution, Olive’s peers, and those of us who have come after—benefited from the work she was willing to do to push Vassar towards a better future.