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EARLY WEEKS
Those early weeks in Washington, DC were difficult. Not only did I have to settle in to teaching in a new environment with new students, speaking a different language, but also had to find a place to live. The first apartment that I rented was on Scott's Circle and Seventh St. I accepted this small studio apartment as there was a swimming pool on the roof with views of the capital. However, as I settled into the apartment I found that the pool was being drained and was closed as of Labor Day. I could not believe that the pool would be emptied with the heat, humidity and temperatures in the 90s for weeks to come. Increasingly, I realized that the nation's capital was conservative and conventional with pool closings and clothing dictated by dates and seasons not weather or commonsense.
I began to understand that I was living in a sleepy, Southern town. There were a few hotels, no great restaurants, no theatre and a couple of movie houses. The town was designed for tourists with cheap motels and self service cafeterias. Actually, with limited funds, I was grateful for this easy and inexpensive food. As well as my classes in the week, I had to teach on Saturday in order to get money. In many ways, the teaching exchange had not been fair and equitable and living in America was much more expensive than England. In Saturday school, I got to know Sam Gilliam, now recognized as one of the great Afro American painters. At that time, like me, he needed the salary, even although a pittance. He was angry and frustrated with the constant notes that he received from the Colonel complaining that the classroom, where Sam taught, was being left dirty. There were they will paint marks on the stools. Sam and I agreed that studios are for making art, a dirty process. Recently, I met Sam at his opening at the University of Tampa. We laughed about those days 40 years ago as he remembered his dislike of and anger with the Colonel.
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