At the Tent City, Time To Pull Up Stakes

A week into the protests, undergraduates finished their exams and had to vacate the dorms. The tent city grew a bit.

At the end of this week, guests flowed onto campus in anticipation of Friday's commencement. On graduation day, tent-city protesters worked their way through the crowds, shoving bright purple fliers into the hands of passersby:

"83 percent of undergraduate students and over 60 percent of graduate students, faculty and staff voted that Dr. Jane K. Fernandes was 'not acceptable' as president of Gallaudet University. DOESN'T OUR VOICE COUNT?"

The high-water mark of protest on this campus is legendary now, 1988's Deaf President Now movement, in which students rejected a new president who was not deaf. This time, the issues aren't so clear. Fernandes is deaf. Her critics are objecting to the search process and to her autocratic management style. School representatives, including Fernandes, have met with them almost every day since the the protests began. But her answers and apologies haven't appeased them.

After Friday's graduation ceremony, the protesters cheer with waving arms and shout in sign language as one of the student leaders exhorts: "Had they not picked her, do you think we'd be this unified?" There's talk of setting up a National Tent City Day, going to Capitol Hill to meet with members of Congress, to carry on the protest as long as it takes.

But then afterward, there's this. Groups huddle to address the question: What about tomorrow? The campus is emptying out, seniors have to leave the dorms, and summer is coming. There are jobs and internships to go to. Students will want to go home.

Graduate student Julie Guberman is sitting on the curb, making her final entries to her blog. Nearby, senior Johanna Karmgard is slowly folding damp polar-fleece shirts and blankets, pulling up the pole of her tent. It collapses on her interpersonal communications textbook, along with a bottle of Sutter Home white zinfandel. A flip-flop seems to have lost its mate. She is going back to Sweden for the summer but takes heart in all of the attention the protest has received.

"We have a lot of support from other deaf people in the whole United States," she says. "They will have tent city again in August."

Senior Aaron Brock, however, is not so sure.

"I don't think they'll ever change the decision about the president," he said, loading his garbage into a plastic locker and lifting it into the back of his Honda CR-V. "But I do believe Jane will do a better job than she would have if we hadn't done this."

Corrigan, the self-professed mayor, has a few more words of encouragement to offer the dozen protesters packing up yesterday afternoon.

"Our demands haven't been met, obviously," he says. "They're very firm on the idea of keeping Jane as president and not reopening the search. But we have time and principle on our side."

He stuffs a pile of signs into a large plastic trash bag. But there's one more being made that they want to leave on the grounds: "We're coming back."

The nearby administration building is dark and there's nobody around to see it.