Is Segregation The New "School Choice"?
I remember the day that the poor kids showed up at our school. It was in 1964.
Classes had already started, and I was in second grade, surrounded by my familiar friends from my mostly white, mostly well-to-do, suburban neighborhood in North Dallas.
Their bus showed up after the last bell had rung. That in itself was a little odd because most of us walked, biked, or were driven to school by parents.
Looking down from our classroom widows, we watched the kids file off the bus and trudge up the sidewalk -- a mixed group of younger and older, mostly black, some brown, a few white.
Two girls seated next to me pointed and giggled about something. Then Mrs. Bowman called us back to attention.
Minutes later, three of the new students were escorted into our class by the school secretary. One girl, Brenda was her name, wasn't wearing any shoes. And there was mud smeared on her leg. "Class," Mrs. Bowman announced. "Please welcome your new classmates."
It wasn't like we hadn't been told this was going to happen. At an assembly the previous week, Mr. Abbott, the