This takes me back...all the way back to beginning. Nothing has changed in thirty years since the journey started for me. But more frightening to contemplate is that things have changed, but not for the better. It's more horrible than I could ever have imagined. The latitude and longitude are different, but it is the same school, different location. It's a nightmare that never goes away. The building is an old rundown box, unkempt and joyless. I know what that means. It screams substandard. I, who am desperate for a job, can hardly manufacture the will to do this. I know when I walk in that I will not be able to come here again. I guess that makes me the lucky one. The others have no choice. De facto segregation is alive and well. There are no white kids. Where do they go to school? Why has an entire segment of the population defected? And does anyone ever question how that influences the education of those left behind. Obviously not. I stand for about two hours in a worn out gym policing 6th, 7th, and 8th graders while teachers have a meeting???? What!!!! This is Thursday. Friday is a teacher workday. "Why," I ask, "are teachers meeting during instructional time on the day before a holiday? Body language answers are all I get. Translation: Shrug your shoulders, suck your teeth, roll your eyes. The Student Concern(s) Specialist is screaming at children to sit...over and over and over and over again. It doesn't take me long to understand that numbness sucks the life out of the air space here. Pretend it ain't so. Behaviors are overlooked. Responsibility is absent. Little-meek-never-in-your-face-me, wants to get on the PA and announce that good sense has left the building. But, I can't. For you see, it was never ever here to start with. All I know is that the school board will patronize you as long as you accept it. Maybe they can convince you, but they will never convince me that this is not educational malpractice. Remember what Charleston did to Judge Waties Waring? Ran him out of town, I believe. His remains are in Magnolia Cemetery. If you listen closely, Charleston, you can hear him whisper, "I told you so!"
Part Two, The Education Papers,Thoughts on Education in Charleston, SC
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