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.  

Meeting with Claiborne Barksdale

Last Wednesday, the interns (Briana Hanny, Kalina Deng, and myself) met with Claiborne Barksdale, director of the Barksdale Reading Institute. The Barksdale Reading Institute (BRI) is a privately funded institute which, as explained on their website, “is designed to improve significantly the preliteracy and reading skills of Mississippi’s children from birth through the 3^rd grade.” In talking with Mr. Barksdale it was clear that the success of the Institute depends on two things: human capital and the ability to reach children during their most informative learning years: ages 0-8.

However, BRI must combat the tremendous reach of poverty. According to a survey cited by Mr. Barksdale, children reared in poverty hear 40-50 million fewer words than children raised in financially stable environments. Additionally, the language heard by children in poverty lacks positive reinforcement and is of inferior quality. This outcome was also seen in the 1970’s Abecedarian Early Intervention Project at the University of North Carolina. Working with just over one hundred children from backgrounds of limited education, the researchers created two groups: a treatment group which would receive language immersion in a stimulating environment and a control group which would not. This process lasted from the age of six months until three years. At the end of the study treatment children possessed IQ’s that were twenty points higher on average than that of the control group. Also, years later they were two and a half times more likely to graduate from high school, demonstrating the critical need from cognitive stimulation at an early age. Clearly, efforts to diminish the rapidly increasing education gap must extend outside the classroom. Poverty creates an atmosphere in which children are falling behind before they are even conscious of their ability to learn. For many, the game is over before it even begins, an indictment of our entire education system.  

In addition to emphasizing the critical role of early literacy, Mr. Barksdale explained to us that “education is people, people, people.” BRI has begun placing principals in low performing schools, hoping to find individuals capable of identifying problems and finding solutions. As Mr. Barksdale pointed out, Mississippi schools have been both stable and failing for some time now, it is time for some instability, some fresh minds. This should extend to all levels of education and not be limited local talent pools.

BRI has a tall order: to prove that schools can be successful in any location and regardless of students’ perceived inabilities. In speaking with Mr. Barksdale the monumental scale of such an endeavor is overwhelming. This effort is not limited to classrooms and grade books but involves home life, social constructions, economic vulnerability, and systematic prejudices. Brown v. Board of Education was handed down fifty seven years ago and yet Mississippi, due to many socioeconomic and political influences, is still littered with schools that are both separate and unequal. But early childhood education, as much as anything, appears poised to correct that, for education doesn’t start in kindergarten.  

Week One

Mississippi River flooding, Greenville, MS. 5/28/11

Simmons High School Graduation, Hollandale, MS. 5/29/11

Six days ago I departed Bethesda, Maryland and began my journey to Oxford, Mississippi. In the time since, I have enjoyed traditional Mississippi fare, sought shelter from a tornado, toured the Delta, and visited the B.B. King Museum in Indianola. However, most importantly, I have begun to see the fundamental connections between race, poverty, and education in Mississippi. Whether walking down the street in Greenville or simply driving through the campus of Ole Miss, it is remarkably evident that the “past” is very much a part of the present. The history of race in Mississippi is clearly inherent to life in Oxford and throughout the Delta, seen both in the Colonel Reb debate and vast inequality of academic opportunity.

            One thing that drew me to this internship, and has proven very gratifying thus far, is the sheer novelty of such an experience. Both the Deep South and teaching were previously foreign to me, and in many ways still are, which is why every day is a new adventure. Huckleberry Finn rode down the Mississippi River; I attended graduation at Simmons High School in Hollandale, Mississippi. That inability to anticipate and lack of prior perspective is exactly what will make this internship profoundly defining. Additionally, it is clear to me after a week in Oxford that the only way to understand the obstacles at hand in the Mississippi public education system is to see them in person. For it is not just a story about facilities, jobs, and books, but also families, personal histories, and long-standing emotions.      

            I learned a great deal this past week. At the Crown Restaurant in Indianola I learned that catfish, when breaded with parmesan and topped with melted butter, can be quite delicious and at the B.B. King Museum I learned the origins of blues. But I also learned that Edgar Ray Killen was not the last civil rights criminal walking the streets and segregationist academies still infect communities. Much lies ahead of me these next two months and if the first week is any indicator, there will be no dearth of opportunities to learn about education, poverty, and race in Mississippi and where I fit, morally and socially. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel, "I've gone to look for America," a critical part of which is right here in Mississippi.