Historic African American Schools: Why They Are Still Important

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Admittedly, it's irrational, how much time I have spent researching historic African American schools and documenting the stories of my elderly neighbors.  Many times, people ask me why it holds my interest.  The answer is multifaceted.  Sometimes the urgency of recording the stories is uppermost in my mind, especially when so many of my older friends are becoming ill and passing away.  Since I made "Under the Kudzu", my documentary about historic schools that Pender County's African American communities helped to create during segregation, six of the people I interviewed while researching that project have died.

At other times I think of my students, and how important it is for them and for my teaching colleagues to be aware of the rich educational history of our region.  I teach in a school where more than 90% of the students are African American, and whose families have deep roots in SENC.  My research helps me to teach with the confidence that education has always been important to their families.

At other times, I think of how profoundly my older friends have changed my life and viewpoint.  Once I was impatient, and thought mostly of what I had to say, but now I listen and strive to understand others.  Once I thought slavery and segregation were distant history, but now I know better, since so many people I know had the devastating effects of this history ripple through their lives.  Conversely, it gives me a window onto the determination and achievement of people in our region who had to sacrifice just to get an education, then turned around and became public servants.  

There hasn't been much broader awareness of the rich legacy of our historic African American schools until recently; I am happy to say that is changing.  Recently I was pleased to be able to help in a small way by contributing images of Pender County Training School for the wonderful installation at the Cameron Art Museum called "School Pride: The Eastern NC Story" (by Willie Cole, commissioned by the Countywide CDC of Navassa).  

Segregation was unjust, and the denial of equal resources to African American children was immoral, but learning about our students' family histories is not just a story of comparison and lack.  Our neighbors built vibrant school communities within severe budgetary and societal constraints.  Many of our most prominent local citizens graduated from these schools.  As educators and citizens, we need to pause and commemorate the rich educational heritage of our region.  We need to let our current students know that we understand that education already belongs to them, it is something that African American families have shaped and owned for generations.

Save the historic Lee Rosenwald School by donating support for a new roof!

Click here to get the new ebook "Rosenwald 

School Reflections: Documentation &

 Preservation" by Claudia Stack  

Alice Walker: Create Conversations between Students and Adults

Click to order a DVD copy of the film "Under the Kudzu" 

New!!! Click to get the new ebookRosenwald School Reflections: Documentation & Preservation by Claudia Stack  

I had the privilege, last week, to attend a session where Alice Walker took questions from the audience.  The issue of censorship arose, and she suggested that the impulse to censor arises from fear on the part of adults that just because students read something, they will imitate it.  However, she pointed out, literature about others' lives allows us to learn about other people's experiences, and it is unlikely we will imitate what we read.

Ms. Walker went on to say it might be helpful if students and adults could discuss the controversial literature in an honest way.  What do we fear about it?  Why?  What can we learn?

I have to concur that honest, meaningful discussion between students and adults is always desirable.  One thing I also wish is that kids had more opportunity and time to spend just listening to older folks.  This has been the impetus behind the oral history projects I have done with students.  Talking with senior citizens makes history alive and immediate.  It is one thing to learn about segregation or the Great Migration in a textbook, it is another to sit in a room and hear the experiences of those who lived it.  To be able to ask questions and realize that these events did NOT occur in ancient history.  

In historical terms, slavery and segregation are very recent. My current film project focuses on a woman who learned to value school from her grandmother, who was a born a slave and denied an education.  Should we suggest to her family that slavery occurred so long ago that its effects do not ripple to the present? 

Incredible things happen when we take time to listen to older people's stories, and especially when we include children. They learn to have more patience, and to be better listeners.  They can learn interviewing and research skills.  Most of all, they glimpse an important truth:  We are all part of one continuous whole.

The Faithful Teacher

Click to order a DVD copy of the film "Under the Kudzu" 

New!!! Click to get the new ebookRosenwald School Reflections: Documentation & Preservation by Claudia Stack  

Faith and devotional practice played important roles in Rosenwald schools.  Almost all of the dozens of Rosenwald school alumni I have interviewed have vivid memories of this, although the emphasis varies.  Some people spoke mostly about singing hymns, while others emphasized group prayer or reading scripture.  Andrew Corbett, a Canetuck alumnus who passed away last year, said he felt the teachers wanted them to learn "that you should love everybody."

Even more striking, Mr. Corbett remarked "Everyone should give reverence... to who you are and to your Creator."  It was this ethos, of self-knowledge coupled with a sense of higher origin (and purpose), that seems to embody the spiritual side of the Rosenwald school experience.

As a teacher today, it would not be considered appropriate for me to speak explicitly about God.  However, when I speak to my students I still try to convey my sense of their divine value.  In order to do this, it's important for me to prepare spiritually each day.  Here is part of my typical daily prayer:

Lord, we know with you all things are possible.  Bless and guide my thoughts, my words and my actions.  Help me to be a channel of your love and your peace.  Bless me and my colleagues, and help us to teach well.  Bless my students, and help them to focus and learn.  Help all of us to know Your love, that You are holding all of us in the palm of Your hand.  Amen.  

Looking Back in Order to Look Forward

                   Click to order a DVD copy of the film "Under the Kudzu" 

New!!! Click to get the new ebook Rosenwald School Reflections: Documentation & Preservation by Claudia Stack  

Reading Wendell Berry's book The Unsettling of America Culture & Agriculture, I am struck by parallels between the destruction of farming communities that he documents and the breakdown of community in schools.  As recently as fifty years ago, small family farms with diverse crops (both plant and animal) were still normal.  Factory farming has been pushing these small farmers out of operation ever since, although advocates of permaculture and organic farming are trying to turn the tide.

That thousands of family farms have been out-competed by factory farms has also resulted in the fragmentation of farming families who were invested in shepherding land and community.  I am struck by the similarity of language used by big agribusiness and online education companies.  They both promise great gains with less work, "work" being the one case the interaction of people with the land, in the other case the interaction of student with teacher.  But what if we are going in the wrong direction?  What if what is needed in education is not less human interaction, but more?  What if what is needed is really an increase in students' material and social responsibility?

In the rural, segregation-era schools that I have researched, both for blacks and whites (but particularly in Rosenwald schools), students had meaningful roles in the operation of the school.  They gathered wood, kept the fire going, pumped water, swept the floor and the yard.  The older students spent part of each day teaching the younger students.  Strikingly, none of the dozens of Rosenwald school alumni I have interviewed expressed resentment of the work they did.  Instead, it was a point of pride and an expression of community. 

What if, by taking responsibility and work away from students in order to free up more time for academic learning, we actually removed an important way of engaging students in school?  What if students need to feel valued and effective in order to attain an optimal frame of mind for learning?  What if the strict discipline of yesteryear only worked because it was paired with students' sense of meaningful connection to a larger whole? 

What if we could work towards recreating these communal connections to help students feel valued, and to allow them to use their abundant energy in constructive ways?  What if we need to look back to find our way forward?

Connecting with Students by Sharing School History

I am fortunate in that the school where I teach makes time, every Friday afternoon, for topics and activities that don't fit neatly into standardized test subjects.  The principal worked out a schedule in which we start every day a bit earlier than the other middle schools.  This gives us our full required time in classes, while still providing a two hour window on Friday afternoons for enrichment and assembly.

On Friday afternoons teachers and volunteers from the community set up sessions.  The topics and activities range from college preparation to planting raised beds to yoga.  Today, I presented a session on regional African American education history.  My goal was to give our students a context for understanding the importance of our school's namesake, David Clarke Virgo.  Although the school was built nine years after his death, in 1964, it was named for Virgo because he was a key figure in Wilmington and North Carolina education history.  In 1924, under his leadership, the high school grades became available to Wilmington's African Americans students for the first time in 1924.  (View the presentation on DC Virgo)

The students appreciated learning about the history behind our school, but my presentation also sparked an unexpected connection. Later in the day one of my students came up to me, her eyes shining.  "Ms. Stack!  That school, that building in Canetuck--I used to go there all the time with my grandma!" 

She meant the historic Canetuck Rosenwald School that I had shown as an example of one of the many historic African American schools in our region.  Now it's a community center, and I had shared with the students that I go out there monthly for board meetings.  

It clicked for me:  Her last name was the same as that of one of Canetuck's main families.  I hadn't thought much of it because the name is a common one in this area, but many of the students at our school in downtown Wilmington have relatives in Pender County, where the Canetuck school still stands.    

She gave me a hug.  We recognized something new in each other. She is not just a 6th grader, or a child with a learning disability, she is the granddaughter of one of my neighbors.  And I am not just another teacher telling her what to do; she saw that I am someone who cares about appreciating her history.  

I think it's a new day for us.

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Click to order a DVD copy of the film "Under the Kudzu" 

New!!! Click to get the new ebook Rosenwald School Reflections: Documentation & Preservation by Claudia Stack  

Why Rosenwald Schools Still Matter

Click to order a DVD copy of the film "Under the Kudzu" 

New!!! Click to get the new ebook Rosenwald School Reflections: Documentation & Preservation by Claudia Stack  

(Portions of this blog post adapted from an October, 2008 editorial I wrote for the Star News)

Sometimes, people ask me why we should look back to segregation-era schools.  It is true that recalling segregation can inspire shame and sadness; there are real and valid reasons for these reactions.  However, I also try to help people appreciate more dimensions of the historic African American schools in our region.  They should be understood not only in contrast to the white schools, but also as rich environments within themselves.  Ultimately, they embody the striving and dedication of educators and concerned families.  

Most importantly, if we ignore the significance of the many historic African American schools in our region (both Rosenwald Schools and others), it deprives our African American students of their educational heritage, and that is a true travesty.  As a teacher in a predominantly African American school, I want my colleagues and students alike to know that education is something that African Americans have always shaped and owned. 

Most of the Rosenwald schools in Southeastern North Carolina were closed during school consolidation in the 1950s. With consolidation, and eventually integration in the 1960s, African Americans achieved overdue access to more modern facilities. This period also coincided with the abandonment, both literal and figurative, of many of the old school buildings that had been built through such sacrifice by African American communities.

Ethically, legally, and economically, integration was the only possible outcome. However, it also meant that many links to the past were officially severed. Rosenwald schools still matter because they embody an important source of community pride and progress during an oppressive era, the memory of which is scattered but not yet completely lost.

Alumni groups, churches, and families with deep roots in the region keep Rosenwald school memories alive. Yet this chapter of history, so influential locally, slipped from the public eye as most of the Rosenwald buildings fell into disrepair.

Many prominent blacks in our region, including school administrators, judges, politicians and artists, are alumni of Rosenwald schools. Their ability to go on to greater educational attainments and their commitment to service were first nurtured in these historic schools. Rosenwald schools also still matter because they had a direct and lasting influence on our leaders today.

Requiem for a Teacher: Carrie Mae Sharpless Newkirk 1923-2013

The following blog is a summary of remarks I made at the recent 2013 UNCW Rosenwald School conference.  Two of Carrie's children were in attendance and Dr. Roseboro presented them with the Watson College of Education "Teacher's Legacy" award in memory of their mother.  

Click here to see the conference slides w/pictures of Carrie Mae Sharpless Newkirk 

A teacher of teachers passed away recently, my friend Carrie Mae Sharpless Newkirk.  I was honored to know her in the last decade of her life, which in many ways followed the arc of developments in education for African Americans in the South during the 20th century.

Born the daughter of a sharecropping family in Duplin County, NC, Carrie recalled the many lessons from her family and teachers that formed her character.  Some of them were as follows:  Her father taught her that whatever job she took on, she should work hard and do her best, otherwise it was tantamount to stealing.  Her teachers taught her that "your word is your bond."

Carrie loved her school, the seven-teacher Chinquapin Rosenwald School.  It had been enlarged twice with aid from the Rosenwald Fund, the local community, and the school board.  This school also housed another feature of the Rosenwald Fund's progressive approach:  A Rosenwald Fund library, a collection of classic works that was supplied to many schools, both African American and white.  Carrie recalled to me that her reward for finishing her classwork was to steal away into the tiny cloakroom-turned-library, and immerse herself in the books.

When Carrie was a junior in high school, her father passed away, and she thought her dream of attending college was gone with him.  However her school principal, recognizing her talent, introduced her to the president of Kittrell College, founded in 1886 by the AME Church.  Carrie's mother bravely let Carrie go to college, even though it meant less help at home with the farm chores and the younger children.   Carrie worked her way through Kittrell before transferring to Elizabeth City State Teacher's College, which had started as one of North Carolina's "normal" (teacher training) colleges for African American students.

Armed with her new college degree and a passion for teaching, Carrie obtained a position in a small segregated school back in her home county of Duplin.  However, she soon moved to Pender County after her marriage to Lawrence Harry Newkirk in 1947, and taught in Pender County for the rest of her career, which spanned 40 years.

Carrie taught at the historic C.F. Pope School in Burgaw and at the Halfway Branch School in Watha (likely a Rosenwald School) before being moved to the West Pender School, an 'equalization' school built for African Americans in 1958.  She taught some of the first Kindergarten classes in Pender County, first as a summer program, then as a full year when it was added to the curriculum.  Her first full year as a Kindergarten teacher she had 40 students and only a chalkboard as a teaching aid!

Although she participated often in professional development and could have sought advancement,  Carrie stayed on the front lines of education, an elementary school teacher for her entire career.   Due to her excellence and to the fact that she gave unceasingly to her church and to her (integrated) community, Carrie was chosen by the Board of Education in Pender to be one of the first of three teachers to integrate an all white school in 1966.

In many ways, Carrie's career mirrored the historical development of African American education in the South.  The daughter of sharecroppers who longed for a new book of her own, which she did not get until 3rd grade, the psychic space that Carrie traveled was much further than the bus ride (her first), which took her from the Rosenwald School where she began her journey to Kittrell College and beyond.

A teacher to the end, Carrie often said to me "children know when you love them."  I was privileged to count her as a friend for the last decade of her life, and I am honored that she entrusted me with her stories.  Through the generosity of some members of the Rosenwald family who I met at the Tuskegee conference in June 2012, I obtained the equipment necessary to film and edit my last interviews with Carrie.  This summer will be dedicated to editing, and I plan to have a documentary of her life finished by late fall.


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Click to Order the film "Under the Kudzu," an award-winning documentary that traces the history of two Rosenwald Schools in 

Pender County, NC