Don't F*ck With Hunter Girls

photo credit to Cayte Jablow

At least not with the girls who went to Hunter College High School when it was located at 466 Lexington Ave in midtown Manhattan. Now that we’re in our 60’s and 70’s, we are loud, smart, active and activist women; but it all began at a tiny school, one of the test-to-get-in schools you may have never heard of. But it’s high time you did.

Each of us has a different story about how we got there and what it did for us. I want to share mine and I’d love to hear those of the girls who shared these halls with me.

Some Background

I learned some new facts doing this research and it makes me even happier to count myself among those who can call themselves Hunter Girls or “Hunterites.” Yes, we had a title that makes it sound like we were a nation unto ourselves. I’m not going to argue with that.

According to CUNY’s library archives, it was the first separate institution in New York City to offer girls free education beyond the eight grammar school grades. In 2025, it still seems so shameful to me that this is a fact we celebrate, but it is.

From Wikipedia: “Hunter was established in 1869 as “The Female Normal and High School”, a private school to prepare young women to become teachers. It is administered and funded by Hunter College of the City University of New York. Hunter was an all-girls school for its first 105 years, with the official name “Hunter College High School for Intellectually Gifted Young Ladies”. The prototypical Hunter girl was the subject of the songstress Sarah Maria Jones, who, the lyrics told, had “Hunter in her bones.”

In 1878, Harper’s Magazine published an article about the new school:

The first thing to excite our wonder and admiration was the number — there were 1,542 pupils; the second thing was the earnestness of the discipline; and the third was the suggestiveness of so many girls at work in assembly, with their own education as the primary aim, and the education of countless thousands of others as the final aim, of their toil.

The aim of the entire course through which the Normal students pass is not so much to burden the mind with facts as it is to develop intellectual power, cultivate judgment, and enable the graduates to take trained ability into the world with them.

I am testimony that this feeling held true while I was there in the mid 1970’s. And although by then the aim was no longer to make all graduates of the school into teachers, we continue to educate countless thousands of others in our own ways.

My Turn

In 1973, I was graduating sixth grade and absolutely terrified at the thought of going to our neighborhood junior high. I had no expectations of being challenged with the academics there and all the expectations of getting my ass kicked on a daily basis by future gang members. My fear was not unfounded- many of those who lived in the area were, not much later, arrested for crimes of violence, robbery and assault, and many of the girls became teen moms. None of that sounded like the future this kid saw for herself and so when I was accepted to Hunter after taking the test, I knew I was going. I knew I had to go.

My parents knew no such thing and absolutely forbade me from signing up. Which led to me forging mom’s signature on the acceptance letter. You may gasp at this, but I’d bet the farm not one Hunterite would be surprised.

For my mother, the issue was the safety of her twelve-year-old daughter on the subways in those days, which were not pretty nor safe. In the absolutely most bonkers of coincidences in a city like New York, my mother had gotten a job the year before as a sales office girl for the Yellow Pages ad company at 466 Lexington Avenue. The same building that housed Hunter at that moment in its history of moving locations. So, because we could at least commute together in the morning, mom relented and I started one of the most important journeys of my life.

The first thing that struck me was the all-girls aspect. I was surrounded by teenage girls from all five boroughs of the city who were smart and knew it, who were quirky like me and not afraid of it, who were hungry for whatever came next. The school ran from seventh to twelfth grade, with many students graduating a year early to begin their adult life. It was a veritable small city of young women and the teachers and mentors who chose to be part of this experiment to guide them along.

Our classrooms were refurbished office spaces on the 13th and 14th floor of the building, and included a biology lab, a cooking room and a dark room for us photography buffs. I spent a lot of time in the dark room with two girls I still hang out with. I also spent a lot of time in the smoking bathroom with those same girls. Ah, yes, the 70’s.

I have these memory blips about my time at Hunter. I recall very clearly my big sisters, seniors who were matched up with us newbies to ease the transition. I remember being given subway tokens to go to various places for P.E. class including Bowlmor Lanes and swimming at the Hunter College pool or walking over to the grassy area at the United Nations to play field hockey. I remember our mini-course week where all classes were suspended so teachers could do workshops featuring their own personal interests. I still have the books we read and discussed in English class, titles that often seared me permanently with lessons that shaped my life like Go Ask Alice, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Animal Farm and Lord of the Flies. All these experiences in the company of girls, with no boys to overshadow our own natural competiveness or deep thinking, or to distract us in ways teenage boys and girls can get distracted by each other, helped us focus on our potential and grow it exponentially.

You know, I didn’t even graduate from Hunter, was there through ninth grade before switching to another NYC school, but I still consider myself a Hunter girl. That’s how strong the connection is to this day.

So, Why Did I Choose this Title for the Article?

Because collectively and individually we are a bunch of badasses and we know it. Hunter produced an incredible array of strong women who made names for themselves even back when it was not common nor accepted to do so. We boast early scientists, some of whom did not get credit for their work; numerous firsts among women in state and federal judiciaries; well-known writers, poets, architects, actors, activists and business owners.

But even those of us, myself included, who did not break glass ceilings are, in our personal lives, known to be tough and not to be trifled with. We’re strong, stubborn, and opinionated especially when we don’t agree with each other. And those are some intense conversations, let me tell you. Not for the faint of heart.

I think each of us has a favorite Hunter grad and I’m no exception. My buttons burst when I tell anyone who will listen that Elena Kagan, Supreme Court Justice of these United States, graduated Hunter one year before my graduation year. I know I’m not alone in this particular choice since several years ago, a bunch of us put together a care package of lox, bagels and other small items as a “thinking of you” gift for Justice Kagan. And here’s a source of real pride: we reached out to let her know it was coming, and she said thank you, but no thank you, I don’t want anything to cause anyone to question my integrity. This is a true story; you can google it. There was a certain other justice in the news at that point who was accepting more than bagels with a smear, so yeah, she’s another badass.

Some of us have reconnected and now work together as political activists. There’s at least one local politician who is figuring out that these “old ladies” who tend to be invisible to society or profiled as not a concern, merit some attention.

Was Hunter really different than other schools or is this just my nostalgia getting the best of me? I can’t answer that, although I sense the whole thing was pretty unique. And the women I still hang out with half a century later confirm by their every word and action that Hunter was truly a collection of quirky kids who found their own tribe in an office building in midtown Manhattan.

We developed a strong sense of self back then that has only gotten more fierce as we age. So heed the warning in the title or be prepared to put up your dukes, because although we’re not looking for a fight, if it’s something that matters we won’t shy away either.