Last August I received a call from the mother of Miriam, a 2nd grader. She was frustrated because her usually exuberant 7-year-old was depressed about going back to school in September. Miriam's parents were particularly upset because the major reason they had moved to their middle-class community was the reputation of its schools.
Miriam's 1st grade experience had not gone well, her mother told me. One of 3 blacks in a class of 25, Miriam had developed a heightened awareness of ethnicity. Instead of celebrating her blackness, however, she had rejected it. For example, she now preferred white dolls, and she had asked her mother if she could wear her hair long and straight.
Miriam's mother recited a litany of incidents that had worn down her child's spirit. For example, one of Miriam's white classmates with whom she often played had distributed invitations to her birthday party. Miriam had not received one.
Although Miriam had consistently made the honor roll, she had not been called to the stage during the awards assembly. When her parents asked why, the principal explained that only students who had made the A Honor Roll each marking period were recognized. Because Miriam had made a B in art the first nine weeks, she had not been eligible for an award. Neither had any of the other 30 black students in the school.
Post-Children Considerations
Even before I had heard many more such details, I knew what my advice to this parent would be. As soon as I was allowed to speak, I insisted, “Start searching for another school!” After explaining my reasons, I also reminded Miriam's mother that she had a second responsibility—to communicate her concerns about the school's insensitivity to black children to Miriam's teacher, the principal, the district superintendent, and the school board.
Then and now, I realize that there were less drastic options that I might have suggested. In my younger, more naive days, I might have suggested that she form a coalition with other black parents to discuss their concerns with the principal. Or, I might even have suggested that she seek legal counsel. These were the time-consuming options I would have considered during my pre-children days. In my post-children days, I know better. A parent's major concern must be the child: what happens to Miriam.
Like Miriam's parents, my husband and I moved to a middle-class neighborhood 18 years ago so that our children could attend the “right” schools. It wasn't long, however, before we began to question our decision. Our daughter, Dana, was one of 3 blacks in a class of 25 in 1976. I still recall my frustration when my 1st grader came home with the assignment to write about one of 25 famous Americans. That the teacher had omitted blacks from the list was forgivable; that she seemed offended when I added Martin Luther King, Jr., Harriet Tubman, and Charles Drew was not.
A few weeks later when I attended the school's International Day celebration, I found that Africa was not represented. When I pointed out the omission, the teacher's response was that she had dressed my daughter in the most popular costume, a Japanese kimono. She exclaimed, “Every child wanted to wear that beautiful kimono, but I chose Dana.” She thought I should be grateful; I wasn't.
Two years later when our son, Todd, entered kindergarten at this same school, I thought that his experiences would be more positive. Surely, the school would be sensitive to his needs if for no other reason than to avoid having to deal with his mother. I was wrong again. Three weeks into the school year, the principal invited my husband and me in for a conference to “discuss Todd's proper placement.” What he proposed was that our son, who was the only black child in his class, be tested for placement in special education. We were told that Todd seemed unusually quiet and that his fine motor skills were not well developed. Pressured for additional information, the school psychologist pointed out that while forming his letters, Todd showed no preference for either his left or right hand.
We quickly denied the school permission for placement testing of any kind. Despite Todd's continued unorthodox technique for forming letters, he successfully completed a college preparatory curriculum and is now attending college on a full athletic scholarship, an honor he achieved partly because of his unusual talent for dribbling the basketball equally well with his right and left hand. We still shudder when we think of what might have happened to our son had we listened to the “experts.”
Defining “Good Education”
Despite these and other such problems, the basic question remains: did our children get a good education? The answer depends upon how one defines a “good education.” This school's academic standards were high, and my children were exposed to a great deal of content. If standardized test scores are the measure, then our decision to relocate to this school district was a good one.
However, my definition of a “good education” is much, much broader than test scores. For me, a good school must first and foremost help children recognize their worth as individual human beings. After teaching for 12 years in the South Bronx, serving as a principal of a rural school for 4 years, and being an education professor for almost 8 years, I am convinced that there is nothing more important that schools can do for children than affirm them. The lucky children are those who are affirmed both at home and at school; the unlucky ones are affirmed at neither place. It is the latter who are most often doomed to failure in school and in life.
By the time I recognized the critical importance of an affirming school environment, my children were almost graduated from high school. When selecting a college, however, we knew where our focus would be. We looked first at the quality of the environment and then at the quality of the academic program. For our daughter, an honor student who is completing degrees in math and engineering, we found what we were looking for at a historically black, all women's college. For our son, a freshman majoring in business education, we think we've found the right environment at a historically white, co-ed college.
Although the racial composition of each school was a consideration, it was by no means the critical factor. The critical question for us was, “Does the school environment celebrate diversity?” Although this question tends to be asked most often by black parents, it is appropriate for any parent seeking to prepare his or her child for the reality of American society in the 21st century.
Once we knew what we were looking for, the second question was, “How do we determine if a school celebrates diversity?” We used a simple, but effective two-step strategy—look and listen.
What to Look For
No matter how wonderful a school's reputation might be, parents should not assume that it is the “right” environment for their child. The best way to determine the appropriateness of a school environment—whether elementary, secondary, or college—is to experience it. Visit the school. Observe the staff. Is there diversity among the administrative and professional staff or are blacks represented only among the custodians and secretaries? Is the staff friendly and warm? Do teachers greet you? Do they want to be there? Do they want you there? How do staff members interact with students?
Visit the classrooms. How many black students are in the classes? Where are they seated? Do the black children seem to be disproportionately represented in any group? Do the children seem comfortable and uninhibited? Do they raise their hands and willingly participate? Do they smile? Note the quality of the interaction between the teacher and students as well as among students.
Visit the cafeteria, playground, and other places where students socialize voluntarily. Do black and white children socialize outside the classroom? Do they choose to eat and play together? To what extent do blacks participate in extracurricular activities? Are there activities that focus on educating students about the black experience?
Review the written curriculum. Is a respect for diversity evident in the textbook illustrations? Are the contributions of African Americans included in the study of history? Or, is this topic addressed only during February? Do the bulletin boards show a respect for diversity?
Observe school committees and functions. To what extent are black parents involved in them? What efforts are made to get them involved?
What to Listen For
The second strategy is to listen carefully. What does the principal say about diversity? If he or she says nothing, then be prepared to ask specific questions such as: To what extent is diversity reflected in your student population? Is the achievement of black and white students in the school comparable? If not, how do you explain the discrepancy? How are children assigned to teachers? What efforts are made to address the needs of black students? What efforts are made to involve black parents in school activities? If the school truly celebrates diversity, the principal will welcome the opportunity to discuss these issues with you.
When I attended the parent orientation at my son's college, I was pleased to hear the president begin his speech to a predominantly white audience by pointing out that the university had made special efforts to continue to attract students from diverse backgrounds. He emphasized the unique contribution that each group could offer to campus life and then challenged each student to get to know someone from a different background. He described activities designed by the university to facilitate interaction among the different groups of students. The president's message was clear: “We celebrate diversity!”
Although the principal's verbal commitment to celebrating diversity is important, other voices also need to be heard. Listen to teachers. Do they have the same or different academic expectations for black children? Are they patronizing? Do they welcome you into their classrooms?
Listen to students. What do they say about the school? Do the black children want to be there? Do they like their teachers? Why or why not?
Listen to parents of black students. Are they pleased with the quality of their child's education? What concerns do they have? Do they feel a part of the school? Are they involved in activities and committees? If not, why aren't they?
Although both of our children have been successful in school, I often wonder how different things might have been had they not had the security of an affirming home environment. I thought about this as Miriam's mother and I talked.
Choosing a school for a child can be a tough decision for a parent of any race. Clearly, most parents want the same things—places where their children are valued and academic standards are high. Good schools provide both no matter what the school's racial composition. Until Miriam's mother and other parents find this type of school, my advice will continue to be, “Keep searching!”
