EVERYONE WHO has watched television or read the paper in the last few days has been told repeatedly how liberal and outspoken was the late Sen. Paul Wellstone.

We have been reminded of his controversial votes in 1996 on welfare reform and, more recently, his "no" vote on a congressional resolution authorizing an attack on Iraq. Stories have abounded of his combative and fiery rhetoric. We have witnessed political allies and foes praise his principled behavior as a U.S. senator. Even President Bush had a kind word.

But there has been little talk about what may be Paul Wellstone's most lasting legacy.

Long after the tributes are through and tomorrow's election is over and the pundits argue what effect Mr. Wellstone's death had on which party gained control of the Senate, there will still be scores of men and women like myself who will continue his work. We are Paul's Carleton College students, and we form a small army of progressive professionals throughout the United States.

I met Mr. Wellstone my freshman year, 31 years ago, during the Vietnam War, at Carleton, which is situated in Northfield, Minn. Mr. Wellstone was not much older than the students he taught. We were impressionable. He was a young radical professor. He had a following of students like myself. We were attracted to his antiwar stance. He was a professor whom we not only admired but with whom we could identify.

Mr. Wellstone knew how to use the privilege and resources of Carleton. To his classes came George Wiley, founder of the National Welfare Rights Organization, Frances Fox Piven, the welfare scholar, and Saul Alinsky, the famous Chicago organizer and founder of the Industrial Areas Foundation (IAF), of which BUILD is an affiliate.

Even the assignments in Mr. Wellstone's classes were courses of study in the practice of organizing. In my freshman year, Mr. Wellstone assigned us to research the welfare system in rural Rice County, Minn. He took us to organizational meetings of welfare mothers, fighting to replace a food commodity program with food stamps.

In the early 1970s, movement organizing was the only variety of organizing on display on college campuses. Most students were exposed to organizing through mass protest demonstrations. Mr. Wellstone introduced us to old-fashioned community and labor organizing tactics.

We learned that 25 welfare mothers could research a policy and understand it. We learned that those same mothers with kids in tow could close down a county courthouse until someone would recognize them. We learned that compromise and negotiation are a part of organizing. In Mr. Wellstone's classes, we read the theory of organizing, and went on to practice the art.

Today, his students are everywhere.

In Washington state, Joe Crastil is organizing with the IAF. In Chicago, Tracy Abman is one of the bright young labor organizers in the country. Ben Gordon directs organizing for New York with the American Federation of State County and Municipal Employees. Matt Finucane is the assistant director of the Civil Rights Department of the AFL-CIO. Kari Moe played a key role in the election of Harold Washington as mayor of Chicago. There are more.

All of those Wellstone students have been calling each other in the past few days. I know because I have received calls from all over the country. We are now in our 40s and 50s.

But it's amazing how many of us still organize as a vocation. Mr. Wellstone's teaching took. He was a unique senator. I'm sure most people will remember him that way.

But we now middle-aged Wellstone students know his true legacy as an inspiring teacher. Thanks, Mr. Wellstone.

Jonathan Lange is the lead organizer of BUILD (Baltimoreans United in Leadership Development).

Copyright © 2002, The Baltimore Sun

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