Reflections

What went well?

                Plenty of things: living in the Residential College, meeting all of the teachers, traveling, having thoughtful discussions with the other interns, eating out with Ben, and exploring Oxford. Of particular note was the summer long interaction with Ben and the other interns. Our constant efforts to understand and articulate the concepts and influences which define education, race, and poverty fostered a level of thinking and critical reflection that only improved as the summer progressed.

What didn’t?

                Working in the office all day wasn’t always thrilling but as Ben has mentioned, that is the tuition we pay for everything else. In which case, I think we got the better end of the bargain.

What was the highlight?

I don’t know that there is one particular moment or event which stands out as a highlight because there were so many worthy of that distinction so I will say the speaker series as a whole. We met and learned from some incredible people this summer. Having the pleasure of hearing their stories and benefiting from their many talents and wisdom was truly special, something I’m sure we will never forget.

What did you learn?

               I don't know where to start. I learned about teaching: what needs to be done to improve our education system, how to recognize good teaching, why education is important, and why our education system is failing. I learned about race and poverty, how those two are fundamentally linked and their impact on education. I also learned a great deal about the South in general, Mississippi in particular. The South's history is as relevant as ever and provides the necessary context for today's reality. Last but not least, I learned about myself and what is important to me. 

How will this internship inform what you do?

                Most of all this internship will push me to think critically about what I see and hear. Also, after everything we did this summer, I have come to recognize that the problems which plague Mississippi, and the rest of the country, run so deep that even though one person cannot fix them, we cannot fix them without one person. By that I mean that inaction actively harms.

Who do you want to thank?

                There are a lot of people I would like to thank. Mrs. Hopkins for her never-ending kindness (her coffee made many a day easier), the teachers for answering all of my questions, Amherst for funding this internship, my Mom for letting me steal her car for the summer, MTC for allowing me to have this adventure, and everyone I sought advice from about my upcoming thesis. I would also like to thank our many speakers. There are too many to mention by name, but their generosity made this summer special and I will remember fondly our conversations. Most of all, I would like to thank the interns and Ben Guest. The interns for making this summer thoroughly enjoyable and teaching me so much. I would like to thank Ben most of all for giving me this opportunity, challenging my perceptions, showing me a part of this country too often ignored, and demonstrating that there is always more to learn.

Advice for Future Interns

1. Embrace new experiences.
2. Ask questions, engage the people you meet.
3. Think about the answers you receive.
4. But remember that sometimes you can learn more just by listening.
5. Ask for the twenty-meal plan at the Residential College.
6. Ask Ben if fairness is important.
7. Don't order BBQ from Pizza Hut, or anywhere in Oxford.
8. Get to know Mrs. Hopkins.
9. Explore the Delta and its culture.
10. Think critically about the differences between your home/educational experiences and what you see in Mississippi.
11. Listen to the blues; don't sing them.

The Brown Report

        

For this week’s blog entry I will write about a document the interns have been reading the past couple of weeks. Known to us as “The Brown Report,” this document tackles head on the lingering effects of slavery and injustice in our country’s history. It is an incredible document, something I highly recommend reading, and demonstrates the depth of introspection we should all strive for.

                In 2003, Ruth Simmons, President of Brown University, appointed a Steering Committee on Slavery and Justice consisting of faculty members, members of the administration and both undergraduate and graduate students. The purpose: investigate and evaluate the University’s historical ties to slavery and the transatlantic slave trade. Additionally, the Committee was expected to propose a plan for recognizing and confronting those ties in order to establish some form of commemoration and foster future reconciliation. Three years later, after much deliberation and campus-wide involvement, the Committee presented its report to President Simmons in October 2006. Four months later, on February 24, 2007, the Brown Corporation released a set of initiatives in response to that report.  

Link to the Steering Committee’s website:

http://brown.edu/Research/Slavery_Justice/#

Link to the report:

http://brown.edu/Research/Slavery_Justice/documents/SlaveryAndJustice.pdf

Link to Brown University’s response and proposed initiatives: http://brown.edu/Research/Slavery_Justice/about/response.html

                Before delving into Brown’s intimate relationship with the institution of slavery and the legacy of such a past, I feel the need to introduce the importance of such an endeavor. President Simmons’ decision to commission the Committee is courageous, intellectually responsible, and overdue. A failure to honestly consider a history, whether personal or collective, perpetuates the past failures and prevents any possible reconciliation. It is only through the discovery and recognition of the truth that progress, and healing, can occur. To those who say these events and their participants are dead and buried, I say that their influence continues to define our lives and our country. Through academic responsibility we all stand to benefit and only through that will we move forward, together. The lives of anyone currently living in the United States are influenced by the past exploitation and annihilation of Africans, Native Americans, and many others. Those of us here today may not have been directly complicit, but we are associates of such injustice nonetheless. Brown University, given its past, is particularly in need of introspection.

                 Brown’s connection to and profit from slavery began immediately. Founded by Roger Williams as a haven for religious tolerance, Rhode Island was the leading American colony involved in the transatlantic slave trade by the time the College of Rhode Island (later Brown University) was founded in 1764. That same year, the slave ship Sally, commanded by Admiral Esek Hopkins, set sail from Rhode Island for West Africa. The Sally happened to be owned by Nicholas Brown and Company, leading benefactors of the college who would provide the monetary muscle in 1804 to enable the college’s relocation from Warren, Rhode Island to Providence, Rhode Island, thus becoming the school’s namesake. However, they were not the only ones who turned a profit chartering slave ships or employing slave labor. The Committee identified approximately thirty individuals who served as part of the Brown Corporation who had been directly involved in the operation of slave ships. Additionally, slaves were used to construct university buildings and many of the early benefactors made their fortunes selling rum or textiles, the markets for which depended entirely upon the institution of slavery. Therefore, Brown appears to have benefitted from slavery as much as any institution at that time, a remarkable truth considering that the University’s official history had not previously mentioned such associations. This finding left the Committee with a difficult question: what now?   

                Within the Report, the Committee produced a set of recommendations for acknowledging the past, telling the truth, and making amends. Among those recommendations and reparations included the public release of the Report, continued arenas for discussion on campus, a physical memorial, a revised history of the University, funding for scholarship related to slavery and justice, consideration of the ethical merit of donations, and expanded educational opportunities for disadvantaged individuals. These recommendations are certainly well-intentioned but I feel they are woefully insufficient. First, as was discussed by the interns, hiding behind a need-blind/need-based admissions process to avoid any significant changes in affording opportunities to disadvantaged students indicates an unwillingness to fully commit to the Report’s purpose.

Second, I disagree entirely with the scope of the Report. In her April 30, 2003 letter to the Committee members, President Simmons challenges them to engage the history of slavery in an effort to improve the nation, not just the University. That goal seems to become conveniently forgotten throughout the Report. This is undoubtedly a tremendous document but its true firepower has yet to be seen. The Report should have extended beyond slavery or been followed by a second document confronting historical injustices in their entirety. Making amends for slavery is honorable and long overdue, but not enough and by that I mean others deserve an apology too. The Report itself acknowledges that two demographics consistently do not receive the reparations or reconciliation that they deserve: African Americans and Native Americans, and once again, Native Americans are shown the door. Their suffering and annihilation was also critical in the founding and growth of Brown. It was their exploitation and suffering too that enabled the Brown Corporation to place their school upon that hill. Is the suffering of the Wampanoag and Narragansett tribes somehow less legitimate? Have their descendants not felt the effects of cultural decimation and political ostracization? I find this omission hypocritical, for the Committee’s endeavor was motivated by the withholding of reparations and lack of honest historical thought, both of which they appear guilty.

My third and final criticism, in a similar vein, is the Report’s lack of critical evaluation of past and current efforts to recognize and reconcile crimes against humanity. In discussing other, possibly similar, attempts to memorialize and long history of global injustice, the Report withholds judgment too often. Granted, my aspirations for this document in danger of becoming too all-encompassing and unreasonably burdensome, but if not here then where? For example, the Report mentions the Armenian Holocaust. I wish they had also mentioned that, because it would have been politically inconvenient due to our ties with Turkey, the United States refused to publicly acknowledge its occurrence for eighty years. That is a long time to ignore the murder of half a million people. However, it is for this reason that I appreciate the decision to create a “center for continuing research on slavery and justice.” For that center will likely do exactly what I wish this document had done: hold us all accountable.

In the end, the Committee and Brown University deserve a great deal of credit for having the courage to be so self-critical and transparent. They were the first but maybe this document will also ensure that they are not the last. Amherst College, for instance, could follow their lead. After all, Lord Jeffrey Amherst was one of the eighteenth century’s premier biological terrorists. There is no doubt that President Simmons accomplished many of her goals and despite any possible shortcomings, the University, and the country, are clearly better off thanks to her admirable convictions.  

Weekly Update

Since my last post we have visited Rowan Oak, visited a KIPP school in Helena, Arkansas, and met with both Otis Pickett and Reggie Barnes. Rowan Oak was particularly fascinating because so much of the property has remained as it was when William Faulkner lived (or should I say drank) there. The famous wall which allowed him to observe visitors before they saw him was still intact, his notes were still on the wall of his office, and his daughter’s radio was still by her bed. Even today, with development nearby, it was clear how important privacy was to him but what I found even more interesting was the impact his career had on his family. Our tour guide told a telling story in which Faulkner and his daughter quarreled over her radio, which was not allowed in the house. As the story goes, Faulkner informed her that “no one remembers Shakespeare’s daughter.” Both funny and absurd, this line is fitting but also makes me curious to learn more about his relationship with his family. I am sure it would reveal parts of him unseen in his writing.

           The KIPP school in Helena was uplifting. They seemed to be doing everything right. The teachers were genuinely interested and engaged with students, the school had well understood aspirations and regulations, and the students seemed challenged yet happy. During their lunch period I sat down with two fifth grade boys and asked them about their experiences at KIPP. Neither had a bad thing to say about the school, which was nice to hear, but even more telling was their intellectual curiosity. They knew the opportunity they had been given and clearly appreciated it.

            On Friday afternoon we traveled to De Soto, MS, to visit with Reggie Barnes. A former superintendent of West Tallahatchie County and native of Greenville, MS, Mr. Barnes has experienced every sphere of education in Mississippi. Upon graduating from Delta State he began his career as their “Dean of Mean,” while also becoming an award winning coach. I will start by saying that Mr. Barnes has a man-cave to which all other man-caves should aspire. That being said, he can also make a killer dinner. We enjoyed shrimp, fried trout from the Gulf, fried corn (something I had never had before), potato salad and fresh watermelon for dessert. However, the real treat came after dinner. Mr. Barnes spoke to us about his experiences, both integrating the high school in Greenville and after, rising professionally where few, if any, black men had ever been in Mississippi before. His recollections of growing up were captivating; he was brutally honest with us about his frustration and struggles to stay out of trouble in an atmosphere of increasing hostility. Equally as fascinating were his stories of interacting with high school classmates years later. Inherent in their encounters seemed to be a sense of shame, another legacy of the civil rights movement, which has yet to be absolved. Every time I hear someone speak about their experiences in the South during the fifties or sixties, I am amazed by how intimately those days have defined our world today. The collective psyche of each group has been constructed from those experiences, dictating their outlook today. To fail to understand that past, that psyche, will continue to undermine our collective present.

            Mr. Barnes also showed us a letter from 1856. It was a living will, which served as a de facto slave contract should the owner die. Reading this letter was exciting, a relic from the past, but also fundamentally strange. The language was colloquial and intelligent, yet the material was repugnant. The author’s obsession with passing his slave to the ownership of his daughter, and not that of his son-in-law, highlights the incredible distortion of perspective. We left Mr. Barnes' home warmed by his hospitality and inspired by his accomplishments. Our visit with him was uniquely satisfying and motivating. 

Day in the Life of Photo Journal

Hey Bri, let's go to work. (8:42 am)

Hey Bri, wait for me! (8:43 am)

Leaving the dorm (08:46 am)

Arriving at Guyton (9:00 bgst)

 Our office

 My desk

 Hey Bri, hurry up, I want to go to lunch!

Kicking in Vaught-Hemingway Stadium after work

Sunset from the top row of the stadium

Fairness

          Why is fairness important? That is the question I have been posed with this week. All summer the interns (with the oversight of Ben Guest) have had a running dialogue about the importance of fairness. Our definitions of fairness have varied, and yet we all seem to have reached similar conclusions: that fairness is indeed important. However, as we quickly realized, explanations for the relevance of fairness must have a certifiable origin, founded upon more than vague principles of good behavior. The importance of fairness, to be widely implemented, would have to cross the many barriers defining individual’s concepts of morality and justice, lest this discussion devolve into a pedantic succession of disagreements. We do not all abide by the same religion, believe in the same fundamental ethical code, or endorse similar governmental ideologies. Therefore, my argument must appeal to the basic interests of all, finding a common ground benefitting all.

            Personally, I think that fairness is deserved and predicated upon the fact that all humans are endowed with the same human rights regardless of race, sex, sexual orientation, faith, etc. This overarching concept of human rights has officially, if not I practice, been accepted by our government. However, just as these innate rights should be blind to age, race, sex, et al., so too should it be entirely independent of government. A citizen, a worldwide citizen, should have access to the same basic elements of fairness and justice. To fail to protect such would endanger all, as the exploitation of any is indicative of the possibility for the exploitation of all others. Simply put, to protect oneself from unfair or unethical treatment it is also necessary to grant the same protection to all others. To fail to do so is the assurance that mistreatment will someday violate your rights. The tides will turn.  

            That being said, my second and universal reason for the importance of fairness appeals to the selfish interest of our species as a whole: maximizing our potential for protecting and replicating ourselves. By promoting fairness, we inherently are promoting the progress of human kind. In theory, the cream would rise to the top. All things being equal, those most capable of contributing to society would be guaranteed an outlet. Rather than favoring those in power, with money, or from the right country, this scenario would select for those most “fit.” While, at the same time, collectively we would progress much more due to the contributions of all. Consider today’s global economy and the United States’ struggle to right the boat after the economic downfall. Would the United States not stand on firmer ground if all her citizens had equal and complete educations? Would the United States’ foreign policy not be better received if our domestic policies matched our constitutional proclamations? My argument is that if all are allowed to participate in society, without limitations, we all will benefit. Just as students learn from each other in the classroom, so too would citizens learn from each other. In addition, this would bread a far more productive concept of competition. We obsess over the need for a “level playing field” in professional and amateur athletics under the guise that all participants deserve the same chance for success, yet no Congressional hearings are being broadcast (CSPAN doesn’t count, it is mostly unwatchable) about the alarming collection of this country’s wealth in the hands of a few. The point being, if we want parity, and we want the best to win the day, fairness must exist and it is in our collective personal interest for the best to win the day, in both the short and the long term.

Greenwood, Mississippi

          Last Saturday, Ben Guest took the MTC interns and Andre Wang (our fellow intern at the Mississippi Innocence Project) on an Emmett Till inspired tour of the Delta. Our first stop was in Sumner, Mississippi, to see the court house where Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam were acquitted. Sumner was not unlike most failing Delta towns, businesses were boarded up and buildings had been left to crumble. But right in the middle of the town square, buttressed by a Confederate statue, was the infamous court house where one of the twentieth century’s greatest miscarriages of justice took place. However, another important act ought to be remembered: Mose Wright’s improbably courageous decision to publicly accuse a white man of murder in court, something that many say a black man had never done before in Mississippi.

Courthouse in Sumner, MS

            In addition to the courthouse we also traveled to Money, Mississippi, where we saw Bryant’s Grocery and Meat Market, the location of Mose Wright’s home, and the location of his church and graveyard where Emmett was originally to be buried. The store was a mere shell of its former self, yet still haunting. A little over fifty years ago a black boy had wolf whistled at a white woman right where I was standing. His punishment: kidnapping, torture, and murder. Things I never would have had to fear had I done the same exact thing. From there, we drove down Dark Fear Road, passing the former location of the Wrights' home and stopping at the remains of Mose Wright’s Church of God in Christ. It was there that Mose Wright spent the night after testifying against Emmett’s murderers, narrowly missing what might have been his own untimely end. The church was modest, a single room with a small graveyard adjacent. Mose Wright was clearly not a wealthy preacher, but I surmise his unshakeable faith ran deeper than such frivolous determinations of a man’s character.





Mose Wright's Church

Bryant's Grocery and Meat Market

            We also visited the Shurden Plantation, where Emmett was taken by his captors to be tortured and killed. Surprisingly, the barn was still standing and clearly in use not far from the home of the obviously wealthy plantation owners. I guess I had assumed that due to either public pressure or common sense, something of that nature (on private property) might have been torn down to prevent people from doing exactly what we were doing: trespassing and regretting our country’s history of inequality and injustice. Apparently, the owners do not feel the same way. After this, we traveled to the location where Emmett’s body was found in the Tallahatchie River, bound to a cotton gin fan by barbed wire. Again, much like the Bryant’s store, this spot could have passed for any other river bank. But, knowing that Emmett, and surely others, were deposited (that word doesn’t even do justice to what happened) in that river made its current serenely ominous.

Tallahatchie River, location where Till's body was found

            After seeing the famous locations related to the Emmett Till murder, we visited the home of Alzea Brewer. Mrs. Brewer, a Mississippi native, is among the many locals who have spent their entire lives fighting for equality and deserves tremendous credit for their efforts; so too does her husband who fought to register black voters and was among the first to attempt to register to vote since the days of Reconstruction. Speaking with Mrs. Brewer and her eldest daughter Mary, I was reminded of the constant relevance of our past. They candidly spoke about fear, mistrust, and unfinished progress. Yet, their poise and thoughtfulness were indicative of the strength with which they have and continue to carry themselves, refusing to let the indiscretions of others undermine their own integrity.

            After our visit with Mrs. Brewer we made a brief blues excursion to see one of Robert Johnson's gravestones in Greenwood, Mississippi. We then concluded our trip with a stop at the Crystal Grille in Greenwood for some delicious Delta fare before riding back to Oxford. However, I should note, that I have never seen greater wealth disparity within such a small area than in Greenwood. Driving through town, we saw wealthy mansions only to keep driving and see horribly inhospitable homes not even half a mile away. Granted, this is not singular to Greenwood, but the contrast was particularly startling and indicated the willingness of some to look past the misfortune of others.

Barebecue Blues (Oxford)

Do you know what I need?

Heading down South

To Faulkner’s land

I’m marching on South

To the rebel land

Arrive in time to hear the news

Y’all know what I need?

Going down South

Working for the teacher man

Riding on South

Past the Volunteer man

Everybody’s got the barbecue blues

Who knows what I need?

Got an empty feeling

There’s nothing around

Got an empty feeling

Ain’t none to be found

Lord I’ve got the barbecue blues

Y’all know what I need!

A rack of ribs

And some corn bread please

Don’t need no bibs

But extra tea please

I’m saying goodbye to the barbecue blues

Weeks Six and Seven

          It has been two weeks since I did an MTC internship round-up so there is much that I could talk about but there are two meetings especially of note. On June 29 we met with Scott Barretta, a blues expert. With Mr. Barretta, we discussed the legend of Robert Johnson, evolution of blues music, relationship of blues music with the civil rights movement, and revival of blues consumerism. I found Robert Johnson particularly interesting. Dead by the age of 27 under widely disputed circumstances, Robert Johnson was a talented musician who received little fanfare while alive but has since exploded into a blues phenomenon. His legend and musical recognition continues to grow despite (rather probably because of) the fact that only two verified pictures of him exist, his cause of death and gravesite are unknown, and few recordings exist. Most interesting, is the famous “crossroads” myth. Supposedly, his prodigious talent can be attributed to a deal he made with the devil at a crossroads in which he gave up his soul. I had previously thought that the devil had gone down to Georgia, as explained by The Charlie Daniels Band, but apparently he had time to stop in the Delta as well. Meeting with Mr. Barretta was a treat as I have little ability to recognize the finer points of music. Additionally, prior to my time in Mississippi I hardly grasped the true connection between blues music and the black experience in the Delta. Blues music tells the musicians story, but the history of blues music places those stories within a context, fraught with suffering, faith, and talent.  

            This past Wednesday, we met with Tucker Carrington, director of the Mississippi Innocence Project. The Innocence Project fights to obtain justice for wrongfully convicted individuals, exposing blatant negligence within Mississippi’s criminal justice system. In speaking with we focused on two cases. The cases involved Kennedy Brewer and Levon Brooks, both of whom had been wrongfully convicted of kidnapping, rape, and murder within a span of a couple years in the same town. In each case, the guilty party was exonerated and a confession from a third party was elicited, linking the same person to both crimes. Also in each case, an medical examiner and bite-mark specialist had been employed by the district attorney to testify in the prosecutions favor. The medical examiner, as has been widely publicized yet disregarded by Mississippi officials, has and continues to perform well over four times the recommended number of autopsies each year, has been found to produce fraudulent results and has insufficient credentials. The bite-mark specialist, who has even less formal training and appears to simply benefit from his friendship with the medical examiner. Both Brooks and Brewer were convicted, more or less simply because they were in town at the time. The supposed bite-marks were not even bite-marks, refuting any possible matches. With the help of the Innocence Project and newly developed DNA analysis, both were eventually freed, but only after their lives were shattered by false convictions. Worst of all, they are not alone. Irresponsible investigating, lackluster defense litigation, poverty, twisted testimony, and government indifference plague our justice systems. Surely not every verdict is accurate, not every perpetrator can be caught, and not every lawyer is Atticus Finch, but simple laziness and blatant negligence is an attack upon the fundamental right to a just and fair trial.

            On a lighter note, the interns had this past weekend off and I returned home to Bethesda, Maryland. While there I watched the Fourth of July fireworks on the National Mall, spent time with family and friends, and had the pleasure of watching Washington’s 126 million dollar man strike out against the Pirates.

Oxford School Board Meeting

          On June 27, 2011, the MTC interns attended a regular meeting of the Board of Trustees of Oxford School District at Oxford High School. Now, prior to attending this meeting, my experience of school boards and their many procedures was very limited. In fact, that experience was almost entirely derived from scenes in the movies Hoosiers, Field of Dreams and Footloose. As far as I knew a school board meeting consisted of irate parents, powerfully self-invested students, and either Gene Hackman or Kevin Bacon. At the Oxford meeting I did observe unsatisfied parents, but neither basketball nor dancing was discussed, no books were banned, and no one was dubbed a “fascist cow.” But despite this lack of Hollywood fanaticism, the meeting itself was absolutely fascinating and clearly highlighted the structural limitations of school systems and frustrations of those involved.

            To describe the scene, I will say this: there were fewer than forty people in the entire room, board members accompanied by the district superintendent sat in front, a podium for speaking was placed to the side of them, a man was filming an the entire process, and the lecture hall had swivel chairs worthy of a defunct Roy Rogers restaurant. After I got over the travesty that was the swivel chairs, I was given the meeting’s agenda and things got under way.

            Two things caught my attention during the meeting: the rigidity of the procedural process and dysfunctional public participation. Clearly, for the sake of transparency and consistency certain regulations are needed to ensure that meetings are on point and legitimate. But, when time is precious, spending ten minutes determining the date and length of a board retreat (I timed it on my watch) seems wholly avoidable and irresponsible. To be fair, I do not blame this on the board members themselves. Rather, this is a minor grievance against the larger inefficiency of the systematic procedures which must be followed. Why the board cannot have such frivolous discussions behind closed doors baffles me. Which leads me to my next point: more back and forth should be allowed between the board and audience. For, even if they discuss every single detail and have complete transparency what is the purpose if public reaction is stifled, or disallowed? I know this invites meetings to become marathon disagreements but ideally a reasonable middle ground can be found. During the meeting, a disgruntled mother shared a complaint regarding test scores for minorities and disabled students. Her intentions were commendable but her delivery was abrasive and personal in nature so she was quickly silenced. From my perspective, it appeared that the board was simply being self-defensive and refusing to grant her a pulpit out of self-preservation. I say this because they were not allowed, or maybe unwilling, to address her complaints. I would have liked very much to hear their opinions.

            Two days after the meeting the interns met with Marian Barksdale, a member of the school board. We had met with Mrs. Barksdale a month before and knew her to be genuinely concerned and dedicated to improving the education of all students. Speaking with her I grew to understand how frustrating it must be to sit before the public unable to fully educate them concerning the board’s efforts. Clearly, there is much that the board does, and is trying desperately to do, which goes unseen. Being a board member must feel like a full time job and I wonder how far good intentions can go in a system crippled by budgetary limitations, wealth disparity, and self-interest.

Week Five

           Much has happened in the first five weeks of my MTC internship. However, when I reflect upon my time here and all that I have seen, one theme appears throughout: the failures of our education system (and their origins) must be confronted honestly and by those most qualified. It does not take much research to realize that many decisions which define our school systems are made by the wrong people. Additionally, those most capable of making positive contributions far too often flee the challenge. Our failing education system was born of personal interests and will surely die by them too. You can’t clean up a mess without getting dirty. This is not to say that all involved with education are unqualified and do not have our best interests at heart or that we should forcefully siphon talented individuals from other critical professions, but those calling for changes must be willing to be involved. That is the true value of programs like the Mississippi Teacher Corps and organizations like the Southern Education Foundation. Rather than shirk their duties to others and opt for corporate benefits, they place themselves in the middle of things.

            It was with this in mind that I read an article in yesterday’s Washington Post. The article, written by Bill Turque, was about Bill Kerlina, a former Washington D.C. principal who recently quit his job (link: http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/education/young-dc-principal-quits-and-tells-why/2011/06/19/AGfcP6kH_story.html). Kerlina had been the principal of Phoebe Hearst Elementary, located in Northwest Washington, since 2009. The school was not struggling nor in a poor neighborhood. Yet, without having previously aired his complaints, Kerlina quit his job and left the field of education in an unusually public manner. When asked why he was leaving his position, Kerlina cited the overall ineptitude rampant throughout the school system, stress, and ineffective methods of assessing school success.

            It is not unreasonable for someone to decide that teaching, or running a school, is not for them. In fact, one might even commend those who recognize they are unhappy, ineffective, or both, and move onto other things. But, as the article indicates, Kerlina was not an unsuccessful educator and simply grew fed up and disinterested. Oh, and what new field did he pursue: the gourmet cupcake business. Kerlina now runs his own cupcake business called Cooks ‘n Cakes. Really Bill, cupcakes? The last thing the D.C. area needs is more cupcakes. His willingness to speak up and call attention to the systematic inadequacies of the D.C. public schools is admirable but his desire to slink off into the world of self-centered confectionary profit is simply embarrassing. So too is the Post’s willingness to paint him as the martyr unwillingly forced from his field of dreams.

            I have remarked before on this blog about the interwoven existence of race, education, poverty, and other defining aspects of our daily lives. The more time I spend here in Oxford, and specifically working for MTC, the more I begin to recognize this. Simultaneously, I am becoming more aware that as more of us leave the heavy lifting for others, we are only hurting ourselves. This post is not even about Bill Kerlina, it is about our willingness to give up and take care of ourselves. This logic is severely flawed, as our education system is increasingly defining our collective future and intimately impacting our personal lives. It is for that reason that the highlights of this internship have been the people. For they have traveled to the area of greatest need, unafraid to fail and resilient against structural limitations, but determined to help.

Week Four

This past weekend the interns ventured to Memphis, Tennessee and the National Civil Rights Museum. Built into the Lorraine Motel, the museum is a powerful tribute to the past, and continuing, civil rights movement, dominated by the life and death of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The museum contained three parts: a tribute to the entire civil rights movement in American history, a tribute to Dr. King, and a confrontation with and discussion of his death. This was all preceded by a short film featuring Rev. Samuel "Billy" Kyles, the man standing next to Dr. King just before the assassination.

           In the film, Kyles grapples with his role as the "witness," coming to the conclusion that his presence was necessary (by God's will) to preserve Dr. King's story and ensure the continuing fight for his dream. The film is well-done, addressing both the significance and causes of Dr. King's death while also considering the legacy. 

Room 306 





          

          Of the museum's many features, the one I found most interesting, and exciting, was the glimpse into Dr. King's personal life. Basic historical representations and national celebrations reconstruct him into an infallible man immune to the struggles of everyday life. But that is misleading. If we are to bestow perfection on anyone, Dr. King is as deserving as any, but I would argue that that does his accomplishments an injustice. For, Dr. King was vulnerable to the same emotions and guilty of personal vices just as we all are, yet was still able to overcome the constant death threats, periodic depression and crushing pressure. This constant struggle, which wore on him constantly, is reflected in many of his speeches, none more so than the famous mountaintop speech the night before he died. This devotion and unfailing determination, as much as anything, is indicative of how far we have come, and have yet to go. In his book April 4, 1968: Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Death and How it Changed America, Georgetown Sociology Professor Michael Eric Dyson confronts this issue, saying: “Whites want him clawless; blacks want him flawless” (pg. 56). In both cases, we forget the struggle that allowed his successes. We forget that before dying an icon, he was just a man swimming against the current. This mistake is serious, for our amnesia limits our ability to muster similar efforts today, as we assume that it takes a saint to initiate change.

Beale Street

         

         While in Memphis, we also stopped by the Blues City Cafe, Gus' Fried Chicken, and spent a couple hours on Beale Street enjoying the live music and upbeat atmosphere. However, despite the prodigious dining options and awesome music, our trip was dominated by the National Civil Rights Museum. For, even though they kicked us out at closing, we remained there the rest of the day.



Dr. Boyd

       

This past week the interns met with Dr. Richard Boyd, Mississippi's first appointed state superintendent of education. In speaking with Dr. Boyd, the massive overhaul needed to improve public education, not just in Mississippi, was quite apparent. For, as Dr. Boyd pointed out, school reforms have all been focused on the inside of the schoolhouse, a small portion of the student’s life. Reform, whatever form it may be in, needs to address the forces which enter the classroom at the heels of students, none more powerful than poverty.

          In a 2009 NAEP study, Mississippi ranked dead last and third from last in family income and parent education. Mississippi also ranked third from last and dead last in 4th grade reading proficiency and 8th grade math proficiency. That is no coincidence. Students coming from poverty, especially when lacking sufficient pre-kindergarten education (which is almost always), are absent more, learn less, and are far more likely to drop out, go to jail, and have unhealthy, unhappy lives. This is not disputed. But, as Steven Reinberg pointed out in his recent HealthDay article posted June 9th, 2011, "there is a gap between what we know and what we fund." Bill Gates et al. can pour as much money into new educational methods as they want, but until the larger issues are addressed, the problems will persist. For, as Dr. Boyd explained, it doesn't simply take a village, it is about the village itself that we must be concerned.
           
            The increasing chasm between those who receive a quality education and those who do not is quickly redefining our country’s global standing. Dr. Boyd shared with us a recent study of the twenty four member countries of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. The countries were ranked on the material well-being, educational well-being, and health well-being of their children. Out of twenty-four countries, the United States finished second to last. The only country worse than us was Slovakia. Our students are poor, poorly educated, and extremely unhealthy. The United States has the largest poverty class of any industrialized nation and it is quickly growing. If measures are not taken to address this issue, which is not limited to matters of education, the soon-to-be majority minority population will be relegated to an uneducated lower class with few prospects for escape. This path is not nationally beneficial, economically, politically, socially, or morally and those who claim to be real patriots ought to be concerned. This divergence of opportunity will increasingly define what it means to be an American: rich or (for the vast majority) poor. When the original GI Bill was signed, it was hailed as a landmark achievement. Education was truly believed to be the great equalizer. Not it has become the great separator, knocking people down rather than helping them up.

Week Three

          My third week interning with the Mississippi Teachers Corps was equally as eventful as the first two.  I spent three days in Atlanta for the Southern Education Foundation's leadership initiative, saw B.B. King perform live in Indianola, MS, met Hank Aaron and continued my journey towards understanding the interconnectedness of race, education, and poverty in this country and their subsequent ramifications.

          The most valuable aspect of the SEF orientation, in my opinion, was the remarkable diversity of individuals both presenting and interning. Presentations were given by representatives of the ACLU, NAACP, MTC, UNC Civil Rights Legal group, KIPP Strive School, SEF, and many more (I apologize to those of you not into the whole brevity thing). Topics ranged from community organizing and non-profits to Brown v. Board and civil rights law. Paramount was the understanding that directionless passion is ineffective and a comprehensive understanding of the structures involved is necessary. Ironically, the more answers I received the more questions I had. The SEF orientation was a truly special opportunity to emerge myself in these topics and benefit from many intelligent and good-hearted people. Also, Billye Aaron spoke and I met her husband, so I've got that going for me.

          Seeing B.B. King's performance was a great time, although his age was clearly weighing on him. But blues music certainly is the music of hope and no one's story indicates that more than B.B.'s.

          One final note, while driving to Atlanta we stumbled across an entire neighborhood that had been utterly demolished by this spring's tornadoes. Entire houses were gone, leaving nothing but the foundation (if they had one) and a pile of rubble. I was reminded of how easily we dismiss the struggles of others. The nature of a tornado, much like education, is uniquely personal in that it touches down locally and with concentrated force, shattering the lives of a few at a time. Those whose property is left unscathed, along with those who have greater means to protect themselves against the destruction, might easily detach themselves from those suffering. But at the end of the day, wanton disregard for the safety, or education, of others will surely endanger us all, as tornadoes and a crumbling education system strike viciously and destroy lives.

Southern Education Foundation

          This past week the interns journeyed to Atlanta for the Southern Education Foundation’s leadership initiative conference. From Wednesday until Friday, we had the good fortune of hearing many interesting and informative panels discuss various topics related to education and race. We also had free run of the hotel buffet, which is always nice.

          Among the panels, one that I think merits further thought was “School Discipline, Push outs and Drop Outs: Dismantling Policies that Generate the School to Prison Pipeline.” This discussion, led by Damon Hewitt (Director of Education Practice, NAACP Legal Defense Fund), Dennis Parker (Director, Racial Justice Program, ACLU), and Marlyn Tillman (Co-Chair, Gwinnett Parent Coalition to Dismantle the School to Prison Pipeline), was a crucial window into the failures of the education system.

          The presence of police officers and school resource officers in public schools has dramatically increased in recent decades, criminalizing the classroom environments of our children and indicting them for crimes not yet committed. This evolving prison atmosphere, only worsened by political backlash after tragedies at Columbine, Virginia Tech, and elsewhere, has shifted from protecting the students to incarcerating them. Required to walk in single-file lines, constantly monitored, void of the freedom to speak, and utterly demonized, our students are literally trained to be repulsed by education and trust only themselves. After all, at any moment the SRO might arrest them, or worse.

         That is beyond unreasonable. If I had been in such an environment I surely would have been expelled for disobedience. Sure, our students are there to learn, but not at the cost of their basic freedoms to move freely, without fear, and display their full personalities. In the current environment, the ideal student never runs, rarely speaks, has little if any healthy self-esteem, and is woefully unprepared for any career aside from “paying their debt to society.”  

         So what can be done? Clearly, there is a connection between a school’s performance and security presence. In New York City, 73 percent of schools have libraries. But, of the schools with metal detectors, only 53 percent have libraries. Similar correlations are seen with county expenditures. Additionally, this trend is not simply a function of school performance or poverty, race matters. However, as Damon Hewitt pointed out, it is a “blue on black issue.” Simply put, blacks are suffering at the hands of the legal system and police force, whatever color its employers may be.  

          But taking security out of schools is not a solution; schools and administrators need that security buffer. Frankly put, they are complicit and cannot do anything about it. This infiltration of academic life (I refuse to call it an epidemic) speaks to larger, systemic injustices which breed at atmosphere in which such measures are either necessary, or more importantly, perceived to be necessary. Our indictment of children of color is indicative of larger abuses, a failure to support them as we support our own. More on this to come...

Two Weeks In

    I have been in Oxford for two weeks now. In that time I have enjoyed Taylor Grocery's fried catfish, barbecue, and fried brownies, visited the Delta, traveled to Arkansas, met many new people whose names I cannot remember, and only slightly wilted under the oppressive heat. Simply put, I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here so far and anticipate a similar reaction to our upcoming trip to Atlanta and later chance to see B.B. King in concert in Indianola, MS. Oxford has certainly been an agreeable summer home despite the heat and unfortunate obsession with all things Eli Manning.

     One thing I have begun to notice, aside from the abundance of Huddle Houses and lack of Chipotles, is that it truly does take a village. Whether considering education, poverty, race or a combination of the three, a sustained, coordinated, and clearly directed effort is necessary for long term change. One teacher will not save the Mississippi school system. One teacher might not even save an entire class of students. But individually, beginning one student at a time, in coordination with others, a teacher can create momentum. Nowhere is this more evident than in the life of Dr. Sybil Hampton. Much had to occur and many had to contribute to make her bravery possible. Furthermore, her decision to integrate was a step in a long process towards equal education, one which did not stop with Brown v. Board, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, or forced busing. Too often we forget that incremental progress initiated by common people creates the opportunity which extraordinary people like Dr. Hampton and others can seize. Rather than wait for heroes we ought to act in their absence, tempting them from the shadows.

Little Rock

       Last Friday, Ben Guest, Program Manager of the Mississippi Teacher Corps, Briana Hanny, and I piled into the School of Education van and lit out for Little Rock, Arkansas. Over the next two days, we attended the Little Rock Film Festival, visited both the Bill Clinton Presidential Library and Little Rock Central High School, and enjoyed a nice dinner with Dr. Sybil Hampton (the first black student to attend Central High for three full years, beginning in 1959) and Zak Piper (co-producer of the film The Interrupters).

     The film festival was phenomenal. In addition to having the pleasure of seeing Ben's film The South Will Rise Again, a documentary short which looks at issues of race at Ole Miss, make its Little Rock debut, I was able to watch four full length films and numerous shorts. The two most compelling, in my opinion, were Hot Coffee and The Interrupters.

     Hot Coffee, directed by first time filmmaker and former laywer Susan Saladoff, uses three famous legal cases of the last twenty five years to engage the debates regarding tort reform and mandatory arbitration. Saladoff's work was forceful and at times absolutely gut wrenching as she mapped the circuitous route some must take to find, if ever, equal protection uder the law.  

      The second film, The Interrupters, was from Kartemquin Films and captured the daily struggles of violence interrupters in Chicago. Their only goal to prevent wanton violence and killings, the interruptors must engage the most volatile elements of the city while also reconciling their own past contributions to the violence "epidemic." I recommend this film to anyone concerned with the lives of others; its success predicated upon the immeasurable selflessness of the lead characters.

     Meeting Dr. Hampton and visiting Central High was another clear highlight of the weekend. We have all been impacted by the civil rights movement in some way, but far fewer can say they contributed mightily to it's progression. Dr. Hampton is among those few and still today when listening to her speak the strength and moral fortitude which carried her down those lonely halls is undeniable.

     The school itself appears much like it did when the Little Rock Nine first enrolled. Looming overhead and built like a fortress, it has protected both the immoral and moral. Yet, as the adjacent museum indicates, in doing so it has served as a vehicle for exposing that which our intolerance inflicts upon us.

     All in all it was a fantastic weekend and I hope to return to Little Rock again sometime to learn more. Much has happened and much needs to happen in order to establish true citizenship for all, but a comprehensive understanding of both is not mutually exclsuive and in few places is that more evident.