1969 began with a kiss.
For Pat Richardson, it was a deeply disturbing kiss, a passionate one, well after midnight and from a very married man. In fact, the whole evening had been disturbing. For a woman who'd had sex with just one man in her entire life, suddenly her world seemed to be flooded with sexuality and sexual possibilities. And for a woman who was known for her rationality and clarity of thinking, she felt her emotions running rampant and a profound sense of confusion.
Soundtrack: God Bless the Child---Billie Holiday
It had all begun when Pat had dragged her boyhood chum, Jukie Jefferson, to this New Year's Eve party at the home of Bill Samuels, a former Prof of hers, whom she admired enormously… or at least had admired enormously until tonight.
Jukie and Pat had grown up together in a racially mixed neighborhood on the poor side of town. She'd been a tomboy — the kids all called her Patrick — the only child of a stern West Indian mother and a shy, hard working Afro-American father. Unlike most of the Negro families she knew at that time, Jukie's included, her parents had remained married, even though she observed little in their relationship that suggested they loved one another. There did seem to be respect, almost like they were business partners — engaged in the business of raising a young ‘colored’ girl, as they put it, to become a strong ‘colored’ woman.
Pat had this sense about her parents that she was the sole object of their lives. This often made her feel guilty. Like in junior high when she'd watch TV in the afternoon before her mother returned from work, instead of doing her homework. Or when she'd sneak out to play ball with Jukie and the other guys in the neighborhood in the long twilight evenings of summer, when her parents thought she was in her room reading. And especially those few times her freshman year when she’d given in and done “it” with Jukie.
It had actually been only three times, all when she was just fifteen, and since then she’d had no sex at all, not with anyone. And yet, she still felt guilty about those times with Jukie so long ago, like she had somehow betrayed her parents, that she had taken a risk that their precious daughter would be spoiled and wouldn't become... what? A lawyer? A judge? A senator, perhaps? What was it her parents wanted her to be? What was it she wanted to be? She wasn't sure. Something important, for sure. Something few, if any, Afro-American women had ever been and done before.
And, in all due modesty, she knew she was on her way. Her college record was outstanding: from freshman year when she'd run for and won class president — the first Afro-American class officer in the history of the U — through her senior year when she'd given a controversial, but much-praised valedictory address, based on Dr. King's analysis, which clearly and logically linked the Vietnam War with the Civil Rights Movement.
And now she was wowing them at the Law School as well. Editor of the Law School Journal. Moot Court. Top of the class. Sought after as a summer intern by the best law firms in the City and beyond.
Every step of the way in her life, Pat had managed to change people's views: their views of her, their views of women (or at least of women like her), their views of Afro-Americans (or at least of Afro-Americans like her), their views of civil rights, their views of the Vietnam War, and most recently — as the representative from the Law School on the University Social Responsibility Committee — their views of the role of a university in dissenting from the actions of the government.
She was proud of her accomplishments, yet, much of the time she felt guilty, as though she were letting her parents down, as though she could do better, accomplish more. And oddly, considering her near-celibacy, sex was at the top of her guilt list.
Why had she let Jukie talk her into it? She hadn't really enjoyed it, not any of the times they did it. Ever since they were in junior high school, he had been after her “to do the nasty” with him and finally, in their freshman year, she'd consented, mostly out of friendship. But after the third time, she'd just said no, that was it! She wasn't going to do it any more! And that had ended it and pretty much had ended their friendship, as well... at least until recently when Jukie returned from three years in the army, apparently a bit more grown up and responsible.
Pat never could believe even to this day that Jukie had really enjoyed their sex either. It seemed like it was just something he felt he needed to do, to prove his manhood or something and he'd turned to Patsy, his oldest friend, to provide it for him. Like he didn't have the courage to pursue some better looking, more desirable, more popular girl. So there was always good ole Patsy. Until she'd put an end to it.
So that was Pat's entire sex life, at least until now. Three times in ninth grade. No pleasure at all on her side. It had been slam, bam, thank you ma'am. In, out, shoot, period. Lucky for both of them, she hadn't gotten pregnant. Of course, she knew the risk and of course Jukie wouldn't wear a rubber. But, Pat had always been exceptionally bright and unusually logical. Even at age fifteen, she knew all about menstrual cycles, ovulation, and the rhythm method, so the times she'd given into Jukie's pleadings, she was pretty darn sure she was safe. And, fortunately, she'd been right.
After that, there'd been no sex, hardly even any dates. Sure, she'd been attracted to men, but her relationships with them never seemed to move in that direction; she was always someone’s study partner or drinking buddy, never anything more than that. ... at least not until tonight.
And then tonight, incredibly, there had been four sexually-charged encounters with four different men! What was the story? Had she suddenly, overnight become sexually desirable? Was she wearing a perfume that had male-attracting pheromones in it? Was she unconsciously sending out signals that said: "Take me. I'm yours?" The whole thing seemed vaguely comical, yet a couple of these situations could have very serious ramifications if she wasn't careful.
Links
Martin Luther King Jr. speaks out on the Viet Nam War
moot court
law school journals
the role of the university in dissenting from government policies
birth control methods
the nasty
pheromones
Billie Holiday
Go to the next scene in Pat's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Pat, Scene 2 "No More Good Ole Patsy"
Go to a related scene
New Year's Eve 1968: Jukie, Scene 1 "1969 Began with a Kiss"
For Pat Richardson, it was a deeply disturbing kiss, a passionate one, well after midnight and from a very married man. In fact, the whole evening had been disturbing. For a woman who'd had sex with just one man in her entire life, suddenly her world seemed to be flooded with sexuality and sexual possibilities. And for a woman who was known for her rationality and clarity of thinking, she felt her emotions running rampant and a profound sense of confusion.
Soundtrack: God Bless the Child---Billie Holiday
It had all begun when Pat had dragged her boyhood chum, Jukie Jefferson, to this New Year's Eve party at the home of Bill Samuels, a former Prof of hers, whom she admired enormously… or at least had admired enormously until tonight.
Jukie and Pat had grown up together in a racially mixed neighborhood on the poor side of town. She'd been a tomboy — the kids all called her Patrick — the only child of a stern West Indian mother and a shy, hard working Afro-American father. Unlike most of the Negro families she knew at that time, Jukie's included, her parents had remained married, even though she observed little in their relationship that suggested they loved one another. There did seem to be respect, almost like they were business partners — engaged in the business of raising a young ‘colored’ girl, as they put it, to become a strong ‘colored’ woman.
Pat had this sense about her parents that she was the sole object of their lives. This often made her feel guilty. Like in junior high when she'd watch TV in the afternoon before her mother returned from work, instead of doing her homework. Or when she'd sneak out to play ball with Jukie and the other guys in the neighborhood in the long twilight evenings of summer, when her parents thought she was in her room reading. And especially those few times her freshman year when she’d given in and done “it” with Jukie.
It had actually been only three times, all when she was just fifteen, and since then she’d had no sex at all, not with anyone. And yet, she still felt guilty about those times with Jukie so long ago, like she had somehow betrayed her parents, that she had taken a risk that their precious daughter would be spoiled and wouldn't become... what? A lawyer? A judge? A senator, perhaps? What was it her parents wanted her to be? What was it she wanted to be? She wasn't sure. Something important, for sure. Something few, if any, Afro-American women had ever been and done before.
And, in all due modesty, she knew she was on her way. Her college record was outstanding: from freshman year when she'd run for and won class president — the first Afro-American class officer in the history of the U — through her senior year when she'd given a controversial, but much-praised valedictory address, based on Dr. King's analysis, which clearly and logically linked the Vietnam War with the Civil Rights Movement.
And now she was wowing them at the Law School as well. Editor of the Law School Journal. Moot Court. Top of the class. Sought after as a summer intern by the best law firms in the City and beyond.
Every step of the way in her life, Pat had managed to change people's views: their views of her, their views of women (or at least of women like her), their views of Afro-Americans (or at least of Afro-Americans like her), their views of civil rights, their views of the Vietnam War, and most recently — as the representative from the Law School on the University Social Responsibility Committee — their views of the role of a university in dissenting from the actions of the government.
She was proud of her accomplishments, yet, much of the time she felt guilty, as though she were letting her parents down, as though she could do better, accomplish more. And oddly, considering her near-celibacy, sex was at the top of her guilt list.
Why had she let Jukie talk her into it? She hadn't really enjoyed it, not any of the times they did it. Ever since they were in junior high school, he had been after her “to do the nasty” with him and finally, in their freshman year, she'd consented, mostly out of friendship. But after the third time, she'd just said no, that was it! She wasn't going to do it any more! And that had ended it and pretty much had ended their friendship, as well... at least until recently when Jukie returned from three years in the army, apparently a bit more grown up and responsible.
Pat never could believe even to this day that Jukie had really enjoyed their sex either. It seemed like it was just something he felt he needed to do, to prove his manhood or something and he'd turned to Patsy, his oldest friend, to provide it for him. Like he didn't have the courage to pursue some better looking, more desirable, more popular girl. So there was always good ole Patsy. Until she'd put an end to it.
So that was Pat's entire sex life, at least until now. Three times in ninth grade. No pleasure at all on her side. It had been slam, bam, thank you ma'am. In, out, shoot, period. Lucky for both of them, she hadn't gotten pregnant. Of course, she knew the risk and of course Jukie wouldn't wear a rubber. But, Pat had always been exceptionally bright and unusually logical. Even at age fifteen, she knew all about menstrual cycles, ovulation, and the rhythm method, so the times she'd given into Jukie's pleadings, she was pretty darn sure she was safe. And, fortunately, she'd been right.
After that, there'd been no sex, hardly even any dates. Sure, she'd been attracted to men, but her relationships with them never seemed to move in that direction; she was always someone’s study partner or drinking buddy, never anything more than that. ... at least not until tonight.
And then tonight, incredibly, there had been four sexually-charged encounters with four different men! What was the story? Had she suddenly, overnight become sexually desirable? Was she wearing a perfume that had male-attracting pheromones in it? Was she unconsciously sending out signals that said: "Take me. I'm yours?" The whole thing seemed vaguely comical, yet a couple of these situations could have very serious ramifications if she wasn't careful.
Links
Martin Luther King Jr. speaks out on the Viet Nam War
moot court
law school journals
the role of the university in dissenting from government policies
birth control methods
the nasty
pheromones
Billie Holiday
Go to the next scene in Pat's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Pat, Scene 2 "No More Good Ole Patsy"
Go to a related scene
New Year's Eve 1968: Jukie, Scene 1 "1969 Began with a Kiss"
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