Nommo’s Presses Keep Running

When black students crossed the country in the early ‘60s, leaving the limits of the South and East, looking for change, they found something all too familiar upon reaching the West Coast.

At UCLA, for example, these new students learned quickly that they might not get served if they wandered out to lunch at one of Westwood Village’s quaint cafes. And certainly they understood very early not to flirt with the notion of renting one of those charming Spanish or colonial-style apartments on those idyllic tree-lined streets close by. Too often, they’d be told there was “no vacancy” despite a sign stating otherwise.

Despite Civil Rights victories, the Watts Riots and the emergence of a Black Power movement, black students and their issues were but a blip on the UCLA campus and consciousness for a good part of the decade.

But that wouldn’t be for long.

In December 1968--weeks before two Black Panther leaders, Alprentice “Bunchy” Carter and John Jerome Huggins, were killed in a campus shootout, months before Angela Davis’ bitter battle with regents over her Communist ties and almost two years before the Center for Afro-American Studies was established--a group of students launched Nommo, a newspaper of black culture and politics that is believed to be one of the oldest of its kind.

Chronicling a sweep of monumental events over three decades, including Tom Bradley’s first bid for mayor, the demise of apartheid in South Africa, and the effects of California’s three strikes law on communities of color, the Nommo staff had readers not only at UCLA but around the world.

Nommo’s circulation, now at 5,000, has been as high 20,000. And while its frequency and format have changed over the years--going from a newsprint tabloid to a glossy-covered quarterly--the spirit and purpose fueling the students at its helm have yet to dim.

Today at a late 30th-anniversary event organized by Nommo editor Terelle Jerricks and a committee of Nommo alumni, Angela Davis will give the keynote address commemorating the publication’s staying power and influence. Past editors, writers, students and supporters will share stories, jar memories and celebrate its focus and longevity despite the odds and political switchbacks.

On Dec. 4, 1968, the first issue of Nommo rolled off the presses. And, recalled Ivan Webster, Nommo’s first editor in chief, in that charged climate, “it was important to build solid, sustained bridges to the community outside.”

At the outset, the administration provided funds and office space, and promised the staff editorial autonomy. After the first issue in 1968, it took about a year for Nommo to begin regular biquarterly publication.

In hammering out Nommo’s philosophy, scope and direction, its founders ultimately embraced both revolutionary and evolutionary change. “Everything was important,” said Webster, now a writer living in New York. “And when we ratified the name, Swahili for ‘the magic power of the word,’ that was important to me as an English major. And we knew particularly for black people that it was ideal. It would be resonant and forceful. It wasn’t just a phrase. It was our talisman. Our beacon.”

Repressive Political Environment

The air was thick. Lines were drawn not just between racial groups but within them. And both the Center for Afro-American Studies and the paper served to cut the tension. It gave black students a place to express themselves. “You have to put this all into a certain political context,” said Cheryl Dearmon, who was Nommo’s managing editor in 1971 and 1972 and now works at UC Irvine in transfer-student services.

“Ronald Reagan was the governor. Sam Yorty was the mayor. Richard Nixon was the president and J. Edgar Hoover was alive and well. So you had this type of repressive environment. That was the political context. Then you had this whole Panther connection. And on this campus you were either a revolutionary nationalist or a cultural nationalist. But I was just a girl from Compton.”

As chairwoman of the Black Student Union, Dearmon said that working with emerging campus organizations awakened her to the power and possibilities of grass-roots politics, such as the time the newspaper staff came to Davis’ aid in print. “This really was an issue of academic freedom. She had a right to teach. And we would defend that. What was going on with Angela and all of that was a moment in time. We were in a position that you either did nothing or you rose to the occasion.”

The newspaper saw its mission extending to events beyond UCLA’s borders. “Nommo,” said Dearmon, “was . . . a reflection of what went on in the greater L.A. community, as well as the greater United States. It was very international in its scope--with all of the liberation movements going on, particularly in Africa. We tended to be everywhere.”

And read everywhere, said Webster. “All over. Downtown. The black community. We could talk to the Police Department. The mayor. [Nommo] was an actor in the dialogue that was going on in Los Angeles at that time about what the course of black life could be. On one side you had cultural nationalism and on the other the Panthers, and those tensions were very rich and very, very forceful. But it was pleasing to us that people across the political spectrum would praise that paper. There was no doctrinaire line. It was a very responsive instrument.”

From Davis’ early struggles to anti-apartheid movements, and from uprisings in Virginia Beach, Va., to affirmative-action battles on local secondary-school campuses, Nommo’s student staff kept the campus and surrounding community informed and energized through lively commentary, special reports and cogent analysis.

Over the years, the paper has served as a model for other student publications, including Al-Talib, Ha’am, La Gente de Azatlan, Pacific Ties and TenPercent.

“I think it was one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done,” said Shonda Hornbeck, who was Nommo editor in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s.

Covering Campus, Local and Global Topics

Along with an eager staff of 10 and a host of hot issues--from Los Angeles’ gangs to South Africa’s struggle to dismantle apartheid, Hornbeck published twice quarterly and boasted a circulation of 20,000. Hornbeck said she believes Nommo is the longest-running black student publication of its kind--covering an ambitious mix of campus, local and global news, culture and politics--in the country.

“And as I get older I realize what an important vehicle it was and is,” she said. “You have this vehicle where you can say what hasn’t been said. You can print the story that no one’s writing. What an amazing opportunity. And that’s the legacy we passed on.”

But Hornbeck, who has kept close watch over the years, has seen the support and solidarity that fueled her tenure wane in recent years. “I think this generation wants to get paid. Our generation wanted to effect change. Primarily ‘89, ’90 was around the time that the Black Student Union changed its name to Afro-American. There was a lot of activism on campus. People were less self-involved. And I think that the further we get away from the time span that slavery occurred . . . people have a harder time identifying with what the oppression was.”

Sometimes, said current Nommo editor in chief Terelle Jerricks, if he reflects on the climate--the passage, for instance, of propositions that curtailed benefits to illegal immigrants and dismantled affirmative action--and the apathy and “goin’-for-mine materialism” of what he calls the Puff Daddy generation, he feels a bit winded, but not discouraged.

The self-described Nommo historian spends most of his hours outside of class covering campus and community events with his 35-mm camera hung around his neck and scratching out notes in his reporter’s notebook. In whatever hours remain, he’s hidden away, staring at a tiny computer screen in a windowless room among a suite of other campus publishing offices in Kerckhoff Hall. A poet majoring in Afro-American Studies and history, Jerricks, 22, has taken the now-quarterly publication from newspaper to magazine-style format.

He began to contemplate an anniversary event two years ago when he became editor. “I knew I couldn’t put that on alone and still put out a publication. So I started talking to people and compiling a database and forming a committee. It’s been interesting talking to other editors to see how they grew,” said Jerricks, who sees the publication’s three distinct periods: the politics-of-liberation movements, the African Diaspora, and the articulation of Afrocentrism. And what that tells him is that Nommo now stands on the threshold of the next movement. “We have to reexamine race and racism,” he said. “And we have to expand the definition of race and racism on a national level. We have to find a more humanist, inclusive approach to fighting oppression. This will force us--all of us--to look at ourselves, hopefully, in a broader context.”

Though circulation has declined to 5,000 and his full-time staff is down to three or four, Jerricks, who will graduate in 2001, is undaunted. “I get this burst of energy when I see things out there. Corrupt police officers, people denied access to education . . . not able to break out of the walls, seeing so few alternatives. I was really forced to look at my role, what it is I’m supposed to be doing. There have been times that it’s been difficult with Nommo. But I have to say, my parents didn’t raise a quitter. Nommo’s my baby. It’s a 30-year-old baby--but its mine.”

Activist and former UCLA philosophy professor Angela Davis and former vice chancellor and publisher of the Los Angeles Wave newspaper C.Z. Wilson will be honored when Nommo celebrates its history at a dinner at 6:30 tonight at the James West Alumni Center. Tickets are $25 and can be reserved by calling (310) 825-2787.