School Boundaries, Money and Race

"Not going?" he asked.

"Nope," I replied, trying not to make eye contact.

"Scared?"

"No," I said as if he'd insulted me. "I'm not afraid of anything, you know that. It's just that CJ's not affected." I looked at the map and shoved it toward my husband. "See? Kids on this street stay at Austin Road Middle even if other Fairview kids are assigned to the new schools. Why even bother?"

"Because ultimately CJ is affected. Shauna, if the Union Grove parents win this argument, then very few kids, if any, from the Fairview neighborhood, will get to go to the new schools. Which means CJ's classes at Austin Road will remain crowded. Which means the school's book shortage will continue. Which means more study guides will continue to be sent home for tests instead of books. You think homework is bad now? Wait until he's in the 7th grade in an over-crowded algebra class where the teacher's only recourse is to send the work home and let you worry about it. By the way, didn't you get a C in algebra?"

He shot me a sinister grin. I hate him, I thought. He knows he's not supposed to win arguments except on Sundays during football season. I gave him the evil eye.

"You can pout all you want. But next year, when Austin Road Middle School's brick and mortar is bursting at the seams, and they send your baby to a trailer, you'll wish you had stood your ground," he said, sitting on the bed and kicking his shoes off. "After all," he continued, "your tax dollars paid for CJ to have the right to a bit more elbow room, too. Some of the Fairview kids need to move to the new school. You might make a difference."

So I went. And I listened. And I boiled.

Tight-faced parents from Union Grove made an emotional argument to the mild-mannered superintendent, who seemed to be turning odd shades of green with every testimonial.

"We did research before we bought these homes! We selected our neighborhoods based on the schools our kids would be going to. If we'd wanted our kids to go to school with Fairview community kids, we'd have bought homes there instead of where we bought them. Those lines need to be re-drawn!"

Shouts of agreement and spotty applause from the man's cheering section gave Dr. Parish a lump in his throat that we could all actually see him swallow. Fairview community parents watched him and wondered, "Is this 2006 or are we dreaming?"

At that moment, I watched a Union Grove child about my son's age nudge his father and say, "I don't get it, dad? Who cares where they draw the lines? Why is everybody so upset?"

While clapping, his father leaned over and said, "It's complicated, son. I'll explain it later."

That word rang in my ears. Complicated. He was both right and wrong. It was complicated. But then it was very simple, too. Our kids are black. And you don't want them at the new school with your kids. You're not really a racist, you just love your child and you want the best for him. I mean some of your golf buddies are African-American, right? So this can't be about race. It's about providing the best educational opportunity for your kid. You've heard rumors that kids from Fairview will disrupt your child's ability to learn. Nothing complicated there.

Ok, so what is the complicated part? Wanna hear it from my perspective? Fine, I'll admit it. I'm Black. My child is Black. Yet I cannot deny that if a group of underprivileged inner-city kids, Black, Latino, White, or whatever, wearing over-sized jeans, blasting gangsta rap music from their iPods, were to be bused to my son's school, I'd be worried.

Why would I be worried? I'll tell you why. It's the behavior that matters. My son doesn't fit the stereotype. He's not some hard core thug-type gang-banger. He's CJ. He loves Star Wars. He has a Lego collection. He makes his own action figures from aluminum foil. He's thoughtful. He's a good dancer. He's funny. He wipes wet kisses from blue-haired old ladies off his cheek after they walk away. He still sleeps with a night-light. (Although I'll deny that one to the high heavens if you ever repeat it).

In fact, he's JUST LIKE A MILLION OTHER KIDS IN AMERICA including the ones who live in Union Grove. That is what's complicated. You don't want him at your kid's school, but if you painted his face a different color and elevated his parents' income, he'd be your kid.

This is not just a problem for Henry County. It's happening in Fayette County, Ga., too, and in Virginia, and Alabama, as lower income families leave inner cities in search of affordable housing and better schools for their children in the suburbs. There are no easy answers, no ready solutions to where counties bursting at the seams should draw the lines when it comes to school expansion. But there are lines that should never be crossed, solutions that should never be considered. In other words, going backward to complete racial segregation should not be one of the choices on the table. We also should seek to avoid classism like the plague.

Within those parameters, there's room for us to work out space considerations and quality education for every single child who the federal government acknowledges should not be "left behind." I have a right to want the best for my child, but not at the expense of the quality of education for my neighbor's child just down the road. As we draw closer to December 11, the date by which time Henry County school officials have promised a resolution, let's hope I'm not the only one who feels this way.