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Salient. Victoria University of Wellington Students' Newspaper. Volume 31 Number 15, July 9, 1968

The march

The march

Sir—Amidst the atmosphere of a game, with those ever-present adolescent boobies who swear at the cops and shout at onlookers (to some workers on a building site: "Scabs", "Blacklegs!", "Why aren't you on strike?"), and the confusion of purpose, the flaunting of in-group symbols, chanted slogans, self-important march "officials", giggling students enjoying the novelty of holding up traffic, the plain insincerity of so much of it—there was at least, for some of us I think, a small infusion of dignity. Maybe the march accomplished nothing (could not Kirk have spoken to us, rather than attend the opening of Parliament to hear what Her Majesty's Government was doing in South-East Asia.?)—may be a sense of worker-student identity was achieved ("wot are 'ave they got that red flag up then for? Down with Socialism! Out commos!").

And it was worth it really. Dignity a precious thing—to a student, almost as much as to a man who is unemployed.

Yours faithfully,

David Harcourt.