These sentiments are echoed by James M. Jones, lecturer on Sociology, who charges that "America is a racist country, and Harvard is a racist institution."

It seems quite possible that Harvard is a reflection of society. It is unrealistic to believe that the practices of an institution can be radically different from those of the society in which it exists. America has had a history of racism dating back to the colonial period, and Harvard has evolved with the country--a fact that has surely shaped Harvard's integration policies.

The relation of Harvard's policy to American mores appears to be demonstrated by the timing of the Harvard integration effort. The University did not actively attempt to integrate in the 1940s or 1950s. It was not until the late sixties--a period in which students were protesting the Vietnam War, occupying office buildings and demanding greater minority representation on college campuses--that Harvard began seeking black professors and administrators.

Apparently, blacks regard the appointments of the sixties as a response to minority-student pressure. John S. Harwell, for one, now associate director of admissions, attributes his appointment to Harvard's reaction to student protests.

Bell, who in 1968 became the first and only tenured black professor at Harvard Law School, also agrees that much of the hiring was a direct reaction to student demands.

However, recruitment efforts have not removed the stigma from being black at Harvard. Recently-appointed professors and administrators often feel they are considered to be less qualified than their white peers or blacks who came to Harvard earlier.

But in general, blacks feel strongly that there is little or no incompetence among them. Kilson says, "All of us are of as good a quality or better (than whites)." Furthermore, Harwell says that "today I have no reason to believe that appointments are made with an eye to diffusing potential protest."

Archie C. Epps III, dean of students, expresses a different view, however: "Some are not as competent and were appointed as a result of student demands."

Whether or not Epps's opinion has been taken to heart by the administration is uncertain, but according to Bell, the original movement to increase the number of blacks at the college has died down. Bell says he believes that the gradual demise of the effort has adversely affected the credibility of blacks already here. "The longer a black teacher remains the only one in a department, the more eroded his credibility becomes," Bell says.

He explains that the colleagues and students of a lone black professor quickly forget his credentials, and that the longer he remains alone, the more likely they are to remember that he was recruited for his position. Thus, they are more likely to believe that he is incompetent.

Bell also says that blacks have greater difficulty in gaining the confidence of students. He says that the white professor earns the respect of his class simply because he is white; the black teacher, on the other hand, must win this respect every time he greets a new group of students.

This inability to gain the respect of a class stems from what blacks say they consider to be the failure of the whites to accept them on an equal intellectual level.

Bell says this is particularly true of women, although he says he feels it is more true for all blacks than for women as a group. Not only is this the case at Harvard, but according to Bell, the situation prevails at predominantly-white universities across the country.

Some blacks say they find their intellectual endeavors disturbed by the administration, which they claim wants them to be "superblacks." They are expected to serve on committees, work with recruitment and admissions offices and solve the problems of black students. However, when one is evaluated for tenure, departments examine a list of books one has written, and do not take into account the committees one has served on. Therefore, working on committees and gaining tenure are sometimes incompatible.

These ills are compounded by channeling all the problems of black students to the black administrator. Poussaint says that he handles most minority-student problems at the Medical School in part by choice, but in part by the design of the other members of the school.

Administrators and colleagues pose problems for blacks, but minority students also seem to flock to the black administrator. Walter Leonard sums up the issue when he says, "Black students expect us to be one or more or all of these things: friends, guidance counselors, academic advisers, job references, mentors, spokesmen, companions, clergymen, clerks, as well as boosters in times of trouble, and congratulators in times of success."

Finally, the black professor or administrator is caught between two groups: the faculty and administration against the black student body. He has the option of alienating one group or the other. If he supports the administration, he will be labeled an Uncle Tom; if he does not, the administration will accuse him of being partisan or militant.

The black professor or administrator then, must decide whether or not to advocate the students' views. Most black administrators at Harvard believe that they should present the students' views without supporting them. Exposure, not advocacy, is the key.

Such are the problems of the black administrator. Time and changes in the attitudes of blacks and whites on all academic and social levels may ease some of them, but until blacks have authority in all facets of the academic spectrum, the major problems will continue to exist.