ATTENDING TWO REUNIONS

This time, Rob shares an essay he wrote for a church service on family. This piece looks back at his experiences in the ‘60s and asks that Americans act now and spare their children the pain, divisiveness, and turbulence of the past, and even of today.  

High school class reunions generate many emotions – longing for days gone by,    excitement at seeing old friends,regret about roads not taken, reflection on life and what it’s meant, realization of mortality and all it implies. I never thought, however, reunions would generate sadness and apprehension for my children’s future. That’s what happened this summer as a result of attending two class reunions. Those reunions drive my thoughts about family this fall. 

 

My 50^th

Two Thousand Nineteen marks 50 years since I graduated from high school. Due to an odd circumstance, I got to go to two reunions. The thoughts and feelings they generated offer a commentary on the past, on our times, and, unfortunately, on the times my family may see in the future. 

I’m a member of the graduating class of Dollarway High School of 1969. The Dollarway School District lies on the western edge of Pine Bluff, Arkansas. I attended DHS from the beginning of my sophomore year until graduation.

I grew up in Hope, Arkansas, so until we moved to Pine Bluff,

I attended school there. I finished my  freshman year at Hope's Yerger High in the spring of 1966.

Like most school systems in the South in the 1960s, the

Hope and Dollarway districts found themselves caught up in the battle over desegregation. Both operated dual school systems. Blacks attended one set of schools and whites another -- by law. They called it de jure segregation.

The Dollarway and Hope districts resisted ending their dual systems by using so-called “freedom-of-choice” plans. Students and their parents could choose the school they preferred. This resulted in desegregation in name only. No whites attended the black schools. A few blacks attended the white schools. Only two other black students graduated from Dollarway with me in 1969.

The federal courts and the United States Department of Health, Education and Welfare ultimately decided the constitution required unitary systems – one set of schools for everyone. That fall—after my graduation – in both districts, the black schools and the white schools merged. That freshman class I started with was, therefore, the last graduating class Yerger High ever had, as

Back of Yerger 50th Reunion T-shirt

the back of the 50^th reunion t-shirt proclaims. I remained friends with some members of that class and they kindly invited me to their reunion in early July. Two weeks before, I attended my Dollarway class reunion.

Initially, both reunions left me joyous about renewing old acquaintances and reliving my youth. But, as they say in the National Football League, “upon further review,” I saw things differently. 

I had a positive experience at Dollarway. For the most part,  it

was what high school should be – a time of personal growth, youthful exploration, and adolescent experimentation. I had a few racially uncomfortable moments there as I will explore in my forthcoming book The Dollarway Syndrome: Race, Individual Goodwill, and the Continuing Struggle for Equality. By and large, however, my Dollarway

experience left me with warm feelings. That’s what the reunion reminded me of – positive emotions associated with football games, bonfires, drama club meetings, and track practice.

The Yerger reunion provided pleasant moments of a different

kind. I loved spending time both  with the friends with whomI’ve stayed in touch and those I hadn’t seen in ages. I appreciated learning about their triumphs and tragedies, reminding me of the miniscule margin between success and disaster. I didn’t do high school with the Yerger graduates, but they’re good people who played a meaningful role in my past.

Some Things Never Change

Despite the good feelings, generated by different circumstances at the two reunions, being at both reminded me of something else – America’s unfinished business with race. Both school districts have re-segregated. 

Dollarway, nearly all-white when I started there in 1966, is now about five per cent white, the rest of its student population black and Hispanic. Hope is about 20% white, the rest black and Hispanic.

It happened at Dollarway because whites left for private schools and because real estate developers built subdivisions in far out suburban areas. In Hope, a few private academies opened, and some white parents transported their children to a nearby rural district that welcomed them with open arms. So, fifty years after the battles I witnessed in the ‘60s, America still fights wars about race. The reunions reminded me of the depressing fact a good chance exists my children will likely still be fighting about race at the time of their 50^th class reunions. The battles won’t be the same as those of my youth, or even the ones of today.  But so many signs I can see say their society will face racial turmoil. That makes me very sad. I so much wish we would decide we don’t want that for our children, that we really are one family, and do something about it ourselves --- NOW. 

                         

                    

THE DOLLARWAY SYNDROME: RACE, INDIVIDUAL GOODWILL, and the CONTINUING STRUGGLE FOR EQUALITY

This time Rob introduces an idea he's developing for a book. We'll explore it with him over the coming months.

Fifty plus years ago, I first observed something in American race relations I've never forgotten. I now call what I saw the Dollarway Syndrome. I noticed it while attending Dollarway, the Pine Bluff, Arkansas high school from which I graduated in 1969. I didn't call my observation the Dollarway Syndrome then. Naming it and getting an understanding of it required college, graduate school, law school, and the ensuing 50 years of living. Even though I can now define and describe it, explain its manifestations, and offer conjecture about what it means, I continue grappling with why it exists and how we deal with it individually and as a nation.

A Definition 

The Dollarway Syndrome is the inclination of white Americans to treat individual  black Americans with respect, kindness, civility, and compassion while, at the same time, supporting and espousing political and social policies and outcomes that oppress black people. After a rough start, at Dollarway I found acceptance, companionship, and caring. High school for me turned out like high school should — a time of personal growth and exploration punctuated by special memories, with a few enduring friendships thrown in for good measure.  I also saw and experienced insensitivity, cruelty, and hostility directed at an entire people. Many of my classmates loudly expressed indifference or even glee at the killings of Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy and championed the political causes of George Wallace and other Southern human right violators.

King and Kennedy - 1963

In the intervening years, I've seen this duality in the workplace, sports, business, interpersonal relations, and other facets of American life. That such phenomena exist and thrive remains disconcerting. Exploring this now represents a late-in-life effort at getting my arms around it and offering a perspective those who've observed and experienced the Dollarway Syndrome might find helpful.

Changing Times

Since I noticed the Dollarway Syndrome, I've seen great racial change in America, including the end of de jure segregation, a rising black middle class, election of the first black President of the United States, and increasing incidence and acceptance of interracial marriage. These and other changes in America's racial picture signal progress toward equity and a just society. Nevertheless, the United 

States remains a nation troubled by racial discord, with significant gaps between blacks and whites in wealth, income, educational achievement, professional advancement, political strength, and other indicators of status and power. The Dollarway Syndrome persists and, in my view, promotes marginal progress while preventing real equity.

What I've seen also counsels that I accept the challenge of exploring how those who care about creating a just society can make the Dollarway Syndrome serve that goal. White people otherwise hostile to black political and social progress, in their respectful and civil treatment of individual blacks, show a capacity for finding common ground with those seeking societal change. Woodson argues racial 

justice requires finding allies who can see improving America's racial landscape as in their best interest or in the best interest of the country. They view it that way despite the continuing prevalence of partisanship, racial isolation, and tribalism. Woodson's notion prompts an important question: How do blacks and whites form alliances that can extract America from the racial ruts in which we've found ourselves since my Dollarway days?

The last ten years have shown us hope and despair on matters of race. Barack Obama's election in 2008 provided  

the tantalizing, if ultimately false, hope of a colorblind society. During Trump’s first years, we've seen ugliness we thought we'd left behind. Obama's ascension and what's happened early in the time of Trump, signal opportunity and challenge. They show what we can do and what we haven't done. By looking through the prism of the Dollarway Syndrome and its maddening duality, perhaps we can see how we build on the opportunities while tackling the challenges.

The Personal Part

My history affects my view of this. I was born at the tail end of

the Jim Crow era and grew up in a small, segregated Arkansas town. I experienced the good fortune of being the child of educated parents who cherished learning, promoted hard work, and, by example, steered me away from hate. They kept their eyes open for injustice, but believed in the promise of better days and taught me optimism, not hopelessness. Partly because of them, I kept seeking education, which has served me well and shielded me from much of the world's harshness.

Race, however, always lurked in the background of my life. What I experienced and observed at Dollarway never left my consciousness. Things have changed, but, then again, they've stayed the same. That fact informs and defines my exploration of the Dollarway Syndrome.

Perhaps readers have experience with the Dollarway syndrome.  We invite them to share.