Durham School of the Arts is a lesson in the politics of anti-blackness

commentary - I was reminded of a place I’d been before. The thought of what could have been came to mind. The thought of we shouldn’t be here overwhelmed the moment.

 

We waited for David Hawks to appear. I sat between two angry parents – the mother and father of an honor student. Their son was suspended by Hawks, principal at the prestigious Durham School of the Arts, for doing the forbidden. He was accused of sexting a white girl.

 

The evidence was a lewd picture confiscated by the white mother. The back-and-forth sexting by the white girl and the black teenager was enough to force mama to call the warden. Hawks obliged the demand to protect the virtue and privilege of the white girl who prompted the sex play.

 

There was no conversation with the Black parents prior to the decision. There was no interest in protecting the honor of a Black honor student or conversation involving how this form of discipline followed a trend of disparate treatment.

 

Prior to our visit to the warden’s office, I posted a statement on Facebook. It didn’t take long for school board member Matt Sears to respond to my statement. I felt his protection of Hawks and the pride of his model school. I was struck by Sears public relations pitch.

 

What I felt reminded me of the delicate line Black boys walk in their pursuit of public education. Hawks didn’t see a student with vast potential. He saw a Black boy preying on innocent white girls. He saw a Black boy interfering with his end of year numbers. He didn’t see the glow of Black excellence. He saw another Black man who needed to be punished for speaking to a white woman.

 

The tension in the room reflected years of stereotype breaking. There was a father who knew the pain of invalidation. There was a mother enduring the challenge of loving and building self-esteem in a son slighted because of the color of his skin. There was me, a pastor and friend, present to deconstruct a decision rooted in deeply racist assumptions and practices.

 

There was enough firepower in that room to get Hawks’ attention. He admitted a mistake was made in not contacting parents prior to suspending another Black student. We talked about the psychological damage caused by the hectoring of students. We discussed the insensitivity in trusting and responding to the demands of the white mother without honoring the concerns of Black parents.

 

This is a step toward stagnating Black self-esteem. This is part of a play book in deflating the confidence of Black boys taught their fate is a life of ordeals with law enforcement. It all felt familiar. I was reminded of institutionalized weapons against Black achievement. Hawks’ job was to protect white academic achievement. I felt decades of confrontations aimed at diminishing my dreams.

 

The worst part is the Black student I advocated for on that day is not the only one. There are hundreds of parents who bear witness to the same type of treatment. The numbers prove a startling bias in the treatment of Black and Brown students at Durham School of the Arts. Rather than contend with the hostile treatment, many Black parents have chosen alternative places for their children to attend.

 

The damage is intensified by the unwillingness of school board members to address concerns of Black parents and students. It’s troubling when school performance matters more than the treatment of all students. It’s troubling that, after years of complaints, it took so long for the school board to put an end to Hawks’ reign of terror. It matters when the superintendent is forced to bend under the pressure of white parents and teachers. It matters when the cries of Black and Brown parents are dismissed because white parents crave the academic excellence of their own children more than equal treatment of all students.

 

The outcry after the termination of Hawks is a microcosm of responses related to when white men get fired. It’s a reminder of white privilege. It exposes layers of biases involving assumptions of the status quo. Durham School of the Arts is the white oasis of Durham public education. Its where white parents send their children to avoid the perceived problems in other schools. It’s where you go to avoid being in a vastly Black and Brown environment. White parents can feel good about public education at Durham School of the Arts because it’s managed to avoid the Black and Brown problem of public education.

 

Hawks managed the mystique of the school’s success. He upheld the purity of white supremacy with a strategy of anti-blackness. He viciously eradicated all semblance of blackness without recognizing the failures of his implicit bias. Hawks isn’t alone in his failings. His actions were reinforced by both Black and white people who lean in heavy toward teaching and affirming principles aimed at inspiring the characteristics of whiteness.

 

The failures of Durham School of the Arts transcend the mistakes of one person. This is an example of institutionalized whiteness working to moderate the influence of blackness. Understanding what happened at Durham School of the Arts is best understood within the context of the Durham Public Schools system. It requires a deep analysis of the history of school merger, the why and how Durham School of the Arts was created to cuddle white parents and the ongoing bickering to maintain its reputation as the darling of Durham’s public schools.

 

Durham School of the Arts is an example of what white progressive centered discrimination creates. It looks like progress, but it is managed by the assumptions of white supremacy. To succeed, it demands the expulsion of blackness. It does this work casually, and often doesn’t recognize the cruelty of its actions. It doesn’t know it’s racism because the protection of whiteness is embedded in perceptions regarding success. Being further removed from blackness is the fundamental goal of the people building the curriculum for that understanding of success.

 

I welcomed Hawks with a handshake. I could feel it. His desire to maintain whiteness made it difficult for him to respect my black hand.

  

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