Not only am I a member of CORE, I also belong to the Fair Play for Cuba Committee. It has a dark office downtown on a seedy side street in the Garment District where the storefronts house notions and dusty souvenir shops. You have to walk up three flights of stairs.
I am assigned to stuff envelopes, and even though the job isn’t very exciting, I am eager because Che Guevara is very handsome and maybe I will meet a boy there. They give me a desk and a stack of flyers and show me how to fold each one, insert it into an envelope, and seal the flap. I have a little sponge to moisten the gummed edge but mostly I just lick. Someone else takes care of postage. I am the youngest person in sight by about 30 years.
On the way out, I buy a pamphlet of Fidel Castro’s speech for 75 cents, the title is “History Will Absolve Me”.
My father always complains that I am boy crazy, but I never understand what he means. It is only much later that I realize there are people who join organizations for a reason other than meeting a boy.