Teachers of Children Must Never Give Up : Especially With Blacks, a Bullhorn Cannot Replace Work and Compassion

Something is terribly wrong with what is considered acceptable public education for low-income black children in this country. In Paterson, N.J., high-school principal Joe Clark expelled 300 students when he first took his job six years ago, saying that they were a detriment to the school environment. Recently Clark expelled 60 students, calling them “blood-sucking leeches” who were too old and too deficient in course credits to stay in school. Clark, walking the halls of his school with a bullhorn and a baseball bat, has been hailed as a hero in some quarters, including the White House, but his school board has criticized and disciplined him for inappropriate behavior and failure to provide due process to the students.

In these situations it is often difficult to distinguish between victimizer and victim. The solutions often go unrecognized because the causes remain obscured.

The real problem lies in the consistent and tragic acceptability of the miseducation of black children in public schools. Paterson’s Eastside High School has 3,000 students--two-thirds of whom are black, the remainder Latino. The historic failure of the local leaders to provide effective programs to meet the needs of the students who are at risk provides a perfect atmosphere for the use of extreme tactics and the “bullhorn-baseball bat” posturing of the school principal.

The institutional tolerance of systematic injustice promotes an atmosphere requiring management by crisis. Clark’s methods are then seen as a solution, as long as he doesn’t go too far.

It has always been an unfortunate consequence of oppression that the oppressed tend to depend on and to defend their own oppression through a lack of knowledge or a belief that other methods are acceptable. If the philosophy of bullhorn, baseball bat and multiple dismissal were attempted in a middle-class community, the perpetrator would be ousted before the next meeting of the school board. The fact that Clark is black serves to negate the charge of racism toward black students, which is precisely what is being practiced in the guise of protecting the school. Oppressive methods are more easily used on low-income black people, and become acceptable when the oppressor is also black.

The media contribute to the problem by encouraging Clark to posture publicly with the language and symbols of oppression. Why are we not told of the positive, preventive programs at Clark’s Eastside High? Is it because it is more newsworthy to show the irrational and controversial?

As a principal of an inner-city high school serving only black and Latino students, I can sympathize with the need to turn a negative atmosphere into a positive one. Washington Preparatory High School in Los Angeles faced similar problems a few years ago. Through supportive systems that focus on parent programs, peer counseling, reducing truancy and tardiness, academic excellence, and nonviolence training for students, we were able to realize a significant improvement.

It is impossible to empathize with anyone who believes that the mass removal of students from school is a solution to any problem.

The students of Eastside High who were expelled for being “too old” were not dropouts. Their continued presence suggests that they were still willing to try despite previous failure. With the dropout rate already disproportionately high for black students, why force them out? Why not introduce support systems and use the media attention to organize and galvanize the community? The ugly specter of racism is evident in this situation. The overwhelming majority of those expelled were young black men who are traditionally perceived as threatening and unacceptable. Who will be surprised when the offspring of these uneducated, miseducated and expelled youths return to Eastside High School in 15 years to renew the cycle?

Black youths, particularly those from disadvantaged backgrounds, deserve support, not condemnation. Their education should be liberative and compassionate, not adversarial and combative. Clark’s own personal willingness to be a public symbol of repression should not encourage others to imitate his style. Demanding, while cameras roll, that a young black male student address him as “Principal” while accepting on television the title of “Crazy Joe” sends mixed messages. Does Clark insist on public respect and subservience from his minority students over whom he has authority while willingly accepting and encouraging demeaning nicknames for dissemination by the media? Is it possible that he has more respect for the latter than for the former?

Probably the ultimate tragedy is Clark himself, who is victimized by a system that he did not create and who, as a victim, looks for others to victimize in his attempt to make the system operable.

During my recent appearance with Clark on television’s “Nightline” program, host Ted Koppel asked me in a frustrated tone, “when do you give up, Mr. McKenna, on students who are not performing?” I responded, “Never.”

I am sure that Koppel, who seemed disbelieving, would better understand if it were his child in a similar situation. Our schools and educators can never afford to abandon our students any more than our hospitals and doctors can terminate care for their patients.

Our children need our love and support, and black children need restoration as well. Even though they may give up on themselves, we must never give up on them. To do otherwise is morally unforgivable and educationally dangerous.