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The White Girl Manuscript Draft
![Sheila B. Michaels<br />
87 Columbia Street<br />
New York City, New York 10002<br />
Telephone: Yukon 2-0794<br />
Office: 9352261<br />
<br />
THE WHITE GIRL<br />
<br />
She was scared of Negroes, but her newspaper conscience called her to join the civil rights <br />
movement. She knew she would feel guilty if she associated with Negroes, and guilty if she did not; and <br />
she thought it was as well to hang for a sheep as a lamb. Southern Interracial Student Teams had the greatest reputation for spectacle and derring-do. In view of the momentous step she was about to take it did seem niggling and just too dull to settle on a cause that would be half-measure.<br />
It was a Saturday in early Fall. The first weekend of her sophomore year. Her roommate had gone home for the weekend, and she did not want to begin tackling the cleaning that had to be done in the new apartment. The last tenants had been pigs. She and Sherry would be no different. She went by the Student Union, but there was no one to whom she could confide her plan. She really didn’t want anyone to know, anyway. If she made some spectacular failure, better not to do it in a three-ring circus. She went to the bookstore and read picture books and looked at greeting cards for about an hour. Then she went home and piddled about, daydreaming until after lunch,. [typo] Finally, she called the Funds for SIST – the group’s Northern, fund-raising arm—and got the directions.<br />
The bus rumbled and splatted away over the cobblestones through the empty downtown streets; leaving her alone. She would have stayed on until it circled back to school if she could have faced the bus driver. It seemed like an awfully bright, unreal day in the downtown silence, full of clear sun and sharp [typo] shadows.](https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/18935/archive/square_thumbnails/ce546e7c467c6bb23f662ecdbd91c783.jpg?Expires=1715212800&Signature=XWGLUEJ8nj2wl9E5abBcvOEk3If1pP5RVRuCaXr%7EDRjSn8FZ3TjhDHA4wngho5vjhWrCBmoav1pyVP3rgG0m9gFZsYgy%7E5p%7Ey9ZXQ97x6Mg9WBQ1Ch6xoQK829RNgZCl9jSVe5ug84MOlze7KCvULf5qYWdSit2NkwBeeCqGA1pIYIUzH2j3D3a2rMUkgeY%7EFqtJ%7E%7EB3XrcR8iZ8Vq5dB5Z3-AwlpTDedC0NKGFIxHBi0SSQDiuSMdFnrb5YP8znxSaQRFsuIU8f5ITFc14ZIz-SUKLqA%7Efq-a7y1p5zEFMsrotQKRUNAD7FKJnd-T8kKcWWH8YZ%7EANbclaN7oX10w__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM "Sheila B. Michaels<br />
87 Columbia Street<br />
New York City, New York 10002<br />
Telephone: Yukon 2-0794<br />
Office: 9352261<br />
<br />
THE WHITE GIRL<br />
<br />
She was scared of Negroes, but her newspaper conscience called her to join the civil rights <br />
movement. She knew she would feel guilty if she associated with Negroes, and guilty if she did not; and <br />
she thought it was as well to hang for a sheep as a lamb. Southern Interracial Student Teams had the greatest reputation for spectacle and derring-do. In view of the momentous step she was about to take it did seem niggling and just too dull to settle on a cause that would be half-measure.<br />
It was a Saturday in early Fall. The first weekend of her sophomore year. Her roommate had gone home for the weekend, and she did not want to begin tackling the cleaning that had to be done in the new apartment. The last tenants had been pigs. She and Sherry would be no different. She went by the Student Union, but there was no one to whom she could confide her plan. She really didn’t want anyone to know, anyway. If she made some spectacular failure, better not to do it in a three-ring circus. She went to the bookstore and read picture books and looked at greeting cards for about an hour. Then she went home and piddled about, daydreaming until after lunch,. [typo] Finally, she called the Funds for SIST – the group’s Northern, fund-raising arm—and got the directions.<br />
The bus rumbled and splatted away over the cobblestones through the empty downtown streets; leaving her alone. She would have stayed on until it circled back to school if she could have faced the bus driver. It seemed like an awfully bright, unreal day in the downtown silence, full of clear sun and sharp [typo] shadows.")
First page of draft manuscript for "The White Girl" written by Sheila Michaels
Die wahre Andacht zu Gott samt dazu gehörige Betrachtung für eifrige Christen
Holograph manuscript with hand-drawn colored illustrations; written in a bound blank book.