White Supremacy in Unexpected [School] Spaces
by Charity Brown Griffin, PhD
I am a Black woman who was raised in the American South. My childhood home was in a Black low middle-class neighborhood. My experiences were largely shaped by various aspects of Black southern culture: Soul food, cookouts, the Black church, and summertime front porch conversations with my immediate family l and extended kin. Race has always been central to how I define myself. I attended predominantly Black elementary, middle, and high schools. I never experienced being the “only Black kid.” Despite that, racism is a key component of the cultural DNA of the United States and seeps into every corner of the human experience. Schools are no exception. Attending predominantly Black schools did not save me from experiencing racism and white supremacy in these settings.
As a child, I did not understand, as I do now, that because schooling happens within the larger context of American structural racism schools mirror the oppressive and discriminatory actions of society at large. I did not understand that educational systems serve as stewards of dominant culture, attitudes, and beliefs. For instance, in the American South, laws obstructed enslaved Africans’ ability to access an education: It was literally illegal for enslaved people to learn to read or write; and Black people (enslaved and freed) sought to become literate at great personal risk. After Reconstruction, Jim Crow laws and the “separate but equal” doctrine created an educational system of segregated schools where Black children were (mis)educated in schools that were minimally funded as compared to White schools. Though Brown v. Board of Education outlawed de jure segregation in service to equality, this progress was often met with violence by White protestors who flooded school sites to physically prevent Black students from integrating schools. The Civil Rights Movement enacted legislation (i.e., Federal Civil Rights Act of 1964) that in some ways, reduced overt racial discrimination in the educational system. However, racism manifested in more subtle ways.
I recall an instance where my White second-grade teacher was visibly surprised, and uncomfortable, when my father, a Black man, showed up for a parent-teacher conference. My teacher’s reaction to my father’s presence was in stark contrast to the presence of my only white classmate’s father, who also showed up for their child’s parent-teacher conference. My teacher likely did not know that I noticed the difference in her reactions to our fathers, but the shift in energy when my dad showed up and the difference from when my white classmates’ dad showed up, was felt in the classroom.
By the time I entered high school, the role of race in school became clearer to me. I was aware of how the “Black schools” in the district were low priority in terms of funding for necessities like textbooks, technology, or band uniforms. I was also aware that though roughly 80% of the student body was Black, in honors and AP courses, as a Black student, I was in the numerical minority in a predominately White classroom. I even remember that my guidance counselor questioned why I wanted to apply to my state’s top, flagship university rather than to smaller, local, colleges that were “more my speed.” She was not asking the few white students in my school this question. What was also interesting to me as an adolescent is that though my schools had a predominantly Black student body, the teaching staff were not predominantly Black.
It is true that in many ways my elementary, middle, and high schools affirmed me, made me feel safe and like I belonged, as I was often surrounded by Blackness and an appreciation for Black culture. It is also true that the roots of racism and white supremacy are still so deeply ingrained in schools, that they manifested even within the predominantly Black schools I attended. As an adult, I now understand that uprooting racism and white supremacy in schools requires intentional action like adopting materials that accurately represent the histories, including strengths, of people of African descent and are reflective of their cultural experiences; including classroom and school building visuals that depict and celebrate people of African descent; and implementing programs that helps youth name systems of oppression and engage in efforts of resistance. It is only through this type of intentional action that our schools will foster equitable, just, affirming, and healing climates for Black kids.