undercurrents in hallways. AP classes on the top floor, special ed. in the basement. and although over half the faces in the yearbook are darker than mine, on the third floor, everyone looks like me. so it seems glass ceilings are often concrete...
although brown faces fill the hallways,
Minutes later, student Amir Billups works the crowd like a preacher, eliciting affirming shouts from the audience during his performance of No You Shut Up! written by fellow cast member Annique Roberts:
Youthe miseducator and misinformer
I no longer come to you for answers
And now in your silence ... Ahhhhh, now how does it feel to be silent?
Videotaped interviews with elders who recall their own long quest for social justice provide a counterpoint to the youth performances. The late civil rights lawyer Arthur Kinoy remembers his first encounter with a young Martin Luther King on the night before an important court date, when Martin advises Kinoy: Sir, with all due respect, tomorrow when you go in there, remind them that there are, in fact, four branches of government: the executive, the legislative, the judicial, and The People. Eighty-year-old social service administrator Thea Jackson, who grew up in Virginia, explains: I grew up in an all black community....I went to an all black school, all the teachers were black, the principal was black. And my church...all of the congregation was black. So thats what segregation looked like to me. It looked like I was part of one community. Poet and playwright Sonia Sanchez, who had attended a segregated school in the south and then moved to New York City, says she had a better sense of herself in her closed in and segregated southern school than in New York City, where she attended an integrated school, could ride buses everywhere, and eventually enrolled at Hunter College. At some point in those classes, she says, I was lessening, I was becoming smaller and smaller. I no longer could see myself, I had no sense of myself at all. Adam Green, an assistant professor of American History at New York University, cautions: Integration was not a moment, it was not an event in which closure has been achieved. Its not some sort of finite thing that can be held up and appraised as you would a jewel. Instead, Green reminds, integration is an ongoing, changing condition that people constantly have to think about. As far as weve gone, we have a long, long way to go, concludes Roscoe Brown, Jr., who once commanded World War IIs all-African American military flying unit, the Tuskegee Airmen. Power concedes nothing without pressure. Adding it up After the final poem and dance, featuring the full cast, the students sit in a line along the front of the stage, their feet dangling over the edge. With arms linked and smiles beaming, they share a single microphone to thank the elders for their wisdom, tell their own stories of growth, and field questions from the audience. Yasmine Blanding, a student at York College in Jamaica, NY, is the first to reach for the microphone. We are poets, so poetry is our outlet, she says. But we are nowhere near as big as these issues. I learned from this experience that there is so much work that still needs to be done, that we are only a small step in what were hoping to change. She passes the microphone to Elinor Marboe, a Mamaronek High School student who heartily agrees. Change has begun, but we have a lot farther to go. Were learning that racism in schools is a problem for everyone, not just something that students of color should speak out about. White students and teachers need to fight against segregation so that we can actually live up to the Brown legacy. An audience member asks the group, What do you think has changed in the 50 years since the Brown v. Board decision? Whats changed since Brown, answers Tahani Salah, who attends the Brooklyn School for Global Studies, is that we no longer have to worry that were talking too much. Now were supposed to talk too much, she continues. Echoes is a venue for us to let it out, to stop keeping our poetry inside. Indeed, earlier in the program Yasmines piece, A Call to Action, sums up students year-long discovery of their own voices:
You must speak up for your words are congested. You cannot afford to stop here! You are not giving anymore than you can bear. You do not have the spirit of fear. So the doubting of your self must stop here. Speak up and while freeing your self and your words...prosperity will then be among my generation.
More student poetry
Support for the Opportunity Gap Project has come from the Rockefeller
Foundation, Open Society Institute, Leslie Glass Foundation, and the Edwin Gould Foundation.
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