Gerri Eickhof: From an anti-intellectual environment to the NOS
As a figurehead of NOS Journaal news broadcasting, Gerri Eickhof (65) has broadcast reports from countless pavements and squares, never forgetting that his life story has its roots in the rough streets of Amsterdam Noord. Born to a Dutch mother and a Surinamese father, Eickhof often faced racism early on in life. He found peace at grammar school and, later on, at the UvA.
Fortunately, racism was not ubiquitous, although Eickhof was accompanied by peers to and from primary school every day who would hurl racist abuse at him, as well as dirt and pebbles – but his teachers saw something more in him. They rewarded his hard work and diligence with a (gymnasium) grammar school recommendation. But because there was no gymnasium grammar school in the area, Eickhof chose to go to atheneum grammar school at the Waterlant College in Amsterdam Noord. “My mother worried that it might be too difficult for me and suggested that I go to a technical college or to junior general secondary education (MAVO). In the end, I simply successfully took the entrance exam for the atheneum grammar school.”
The bully disappeared at secondary school and Eickhof was given the freedom to develop further. Inspired by a geography teacher with expertise in anthropology, he embarked on an adventure in anthropology at the University of Amsterdam six years later, between 1976 and 1983. What was it like for Eickhof to study at the UvA at that time, as a first-generation student and a student of colour?
Eickhof looks back on his thesis supervisor and the squat across from the Bungehuis where he lived with a hundred others. These days he lives in the centre of Amsterdam, where he welcomes the sunlight, the bustle of tourists and other memories into his home. With an ironic smile playing on his face, Eickhof, himself a lapsed erstwhile churchgoer, tells us the story of his very first lecture, in which a lecturer recommended that anyone who believed in God was better off picking another programme. He enthusiastically continues taking us through his time at university.
You described your childhood background as an anti-intellectual environment. How did the people around you react to your choice of degree programme?
“They had no idea what anthropology was, but they loved it. “He might not be good with his hands, but our bright boy is going to university” is what people in my neighbourhood were saying. Although that isn’t quite right. I might not be very fast with my hands, but I can spot weld and fix a puncture in record time. That said, I’m not very good at painting.”
As a first-generation student, did you have any idea what kind of world you would be entering?
“Well, on the induction day, I ended up in a group of Hilversum types who all signed up for the student association (het Corps) during the break. I asked the supervisor what sort of choir [Dutch pronunciation identical to “Corps”] they were joining. They didn’t seem to be that musically gifted to me.”
Speaking of student association: I founded an African student association with a number of fellow students, to be able to have a fun student life without having to deny who we are all the time.
“I don’t think I would have joined. The “us-and-them” mindset isn’t part of my core principles – I feel like a belong everywhere. Being a mix, I don’t belong to any one specific group, either genetically or culturally. That said, I’ve always found it easier to get to know or make friends with people who are also of mixed descent.”
During your studies you also developed a good relationship with your thesis supervisor.
“I wanted to do research into the position of black people on the South Side of Chicago as part of my thesis. The UvA felt it could not provide the necessary supervision and suggested that I approach Frank Bovenkerk, who was a Professor of Anthropology at Utrecht University and who subsequently became my supervisor, although I remained enrolled at the UvA. Bovenkerk has just written a book entitled “Omdat zij anders zijn” (Because they are different), which was about a number of issues, including discrimination on the job market and black boys who would be refused entry to discotheques. At the time, it was an eye-opener for a lot of people who had never experienced discrimination first hand. My research in Chicago ultimately did not go ahead, but through Bovenkerk I was able to do research at the University of Bradford into the arrival of migrants in various districts.”
In 2020, you submitted 35 personal experiences of racism to your coordinator at the NOS to demonstrate how much issues related to racism had affected you personally and how you wanted to avoid them. These ranged from being falsely accused of theft to xenophobic people in the street refusing to be interviewed by you. Would you be able to draw up a list like that for your time at the UvA?
“Well, that list would only include one incident. It was when I went to the anthropology library for the first time, to get a book that wasn’t allowed to be taken out. I spent twenty minutes reading when all of a sudden two massive guys came up next to me, asking me what I was doing, if I minded coming with them – despite the fact that I had my student ID card. The security guards interrogated me until a member of staff whom I knew came into the room and said: “What kind of bullsh*t is this? Have you gone completely mad?”. I tried to do another hour of reading after that. After that, I would always go to the Tropical Institute where they often would have the same books as the anthropology library whenever I would need one of those books again.”
“There were a couple of students at the library at the time who knew me and said or did nothing. Years later I came across one of them who accosted me and said: “You’re Gerri Eickhof from the NOS, aren’t you? You were at the anthropology programme, right? We were in the same year”. I replied: “Yup – I’m Gerri Eickhof and I did study anthropology, but, with the best will in the world, I honestly can’t remember who you are”.”
Was that your revenge? Didn’t you feel the need to talk?
“Yes and yes.”
The UvA has had Diversity Officers in place for a number of years whose job, among other things, is to increase social safety and inclusiveness at the university. Do you have any memories of deliberate policies aimed at diversity?
“There used to be money pots for poor students or for assistance with housing problems, but there wasn’t any specific support for if you felt discriminated against or if you had any complaints about the curriculum – if only there had been. There was a lot of teaching from a very Marxist point of view. I remember a general lecture held by a retired anthropologist who spoke with adulation about the Chinese people being firmly behind Mao Zedong. I asked the audacious question whether that might be because all his opponents had been eliminated. That got me into trouble with the organisers during the break.”
You’ve mentioned that you suffer from melancholia once a year, when you get in your car and drive to your birthplace in Amsterdam Noord, to recall that you also made it through that period in your life. How did you deal with that as a student?
“I had a dog at our squat across from the Bungehuis, which helped. I ended up there thanks to a friend from Limburg who was a fellow student. He asked me to join in on squatting a large building in the centre. I had just finished my first year at the university and was ready to spread my wings. My mother hated the fact that I was leaving home, but she was okay with me going to live in squat, which was very normal at the time.”
What are your fondest memories about your life as a squatter?
“We used to fit new pipes and install power lines for water and electricity ourselves. I was responsible for connecting the wires to the fuse box. I’d tie the wires together, screw in the fuses and muster the courage to flip the switch – all the while wearing rubber boots and gloves. And then I’d wait, my heart pounding in my chest. But luckily nothing happened. The lights came on in one of the rooms. And when I tested the switches in the whole building, the lights came on everywhere. I had a little moment of joy when I went into my own room, hooked up the record player and the music started playing.”
“And then there were the endless meetings, sometimes with fifty people at a time, about supporting other squats, negotiations with the City authorities and strategy. And when it was announced that Beatrix was going to be Queen and was going to be crowned at the Palace on Dam Square, we heard that the City was going to be purchasing our building, which was nearby, and turn it into residential units and that us squatters would have to leave – but with the option of returning or being offered housing elsewhere. I always still suspect that the purchase was intended to keep us quiet.”
Would you want to be student in this day and age?
“Yeah – although I would have had to work a lot harder. These days you have to get your degree in about four years. In my day, the average time in which people completed their degrees was about ten years. I did it in 6.5 years; it only took me six months longer.”
How did your time at the UvA prepare you for your career?
“In my opinion, anthropology is the academic subject that is closest to journalism. And at the university you come into contact with an entire melting pot worth of people. That’s something you come across within an editorial team to a certain extent, but especially in your work as a reporter. Frank Bovenkerk also taught me that it’s crucial to be able to present research results in such a way that even non-experts can understand them. So in a sense he taught me how to work for a larger audience.”
Would 1976 Gerri be proud of today’s Gerri?
“He’d feel that it all turned out all right. What would I say to him? If you pay attention in life, you’ll be fine.”
