Reclaiming Segregation-Era, African American Schoolhouses: Building on Symbols of Past Cooperation
Klugh, Elgin LThis article explores the significance of segregation-era African American schoolhouses and the efforts of community groups engaged in their preservation. Beyond preservation and the creation of local history museums, groups also desire to use these facilities as spaces to house various community meetings and activities. Using research methodology based on anthropological fieldwork, the author discusses the work of two community groups-Bealsville, Inc., in Bealsville, Florida, and the Iota Upsilon Lambda chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. in Silver Spring, Maryland-and their independent efforts to preserve, rehabilitate, and reclaim segregation-era schoolhouses.
INTRODUCTION
Like chimneys standing in the cold ashes of a tragic fire, the old buildings endure in towns and rural communities across the southeastern United States. A few have been reincarnated as textbook warehouses, old-age homes, or cut-and-sew factories. More commonly, though, they sit vacant and deteriorating in older Black neighborhoods. (Cecelski, 1994, p. 7)
The "old buildings" described above are the remains of segregation-era, African American schoolhouses. In 1913, Julius Rosenwald, a Sears Company executive, instituted a program to help finance small schools for African Americans across the South, with the aid of Booker T. Washington. When Rosenwald died in 1932, it is reported that he had contributed $4.4 million (Werner, 1939, p. 133) to help build "5,357 public schools, shops, and teachers' homes" in "883 counties of fifteen southern states" between 1913 and 1932 (Bullock, 1967, p. 139). Many of these structures are at a crucial time in their existence. Because of age and deterioration, community members must decide whether to let these buildings fade away, or to invest the time and resources that are necessary to restore them. Although frequently inadequate for reuse as modern schools, these buildings are valued for their historical symbolism. They are also valued for the space that they provide for community-organizing efforts-specifically, tutorial centers, heritage museums, and meeting places.
Noting the historical importance, public interest, and the decreasing number of Rosenwald schools, the National Trust for Historic Preservation (NTHP) placed them on their 2002 list of "America's 11 Most Endangered Historical Sites." The NTHP has also started a "Rosenwald Initiative" with goals of "developing and publishing public education materials; developing and launching a Web site on Rosenwald schools; developing a network of individuals and organizations working toward documentation and preservation of Rosenwald schools and continued fundraising to meet the goals of the initiative" (America's 11 Most Endangered Historic Places, 2002, p. 13; NTHP, n.d. ).
Following its first Rosenwald school conference at Fisk University in May 2004, there have been several, independent, grassroots efforts by individuals and organizations that are giving new life to these old buildings. In this article, the work of two community groups-Bealsville, Inc., in Bealsville, Florida, and the Iota Upsilon Lambda Chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. in Silver Spring, Maryland and their independent efforts to preserve, rehabilitate, and reclaim segregation-era schoolhouses will be discussed. These organizations are engaged in preserving African American landmarks of great importance to the local history of their communities and to the broader histories of African American education and self-reliance. By preserving these symbolic structures, these organizations seek to resurrect and display this heritage and to provide venues where activities can occur to supplement the process of formal education with inspiring accounts of African American educational values and achievement.
EDUCATION AND AFRICAN AMERICAN ETHNOGENESIS
A commitment to the values and benefits of education constitutes a "core value" (Franklin, 2002) of African American "ethnogenesis" (Greenbaum, 2002). In the years immediately after slavery, African Americans showed strong initiative when organizing for education. The shared idea of "literacy as a contradiction to oppression" spawned the creation of thousands of community schools (Anderson, 1988, p. 13). This ability to galvanize shared values and marshal collective resources was also expressed throughout the period in the early part of the twentieth century as distinguished by the Julius Rosenwald Foundation's school building program.
Although immensely helpful, it is imperative to understand that the Rosenwald funds, mentioned earlier as more than $4 million, did not provide all of the money needed to build African American schools. In fact, Rosenwald funds "never gave even one-half the cost of a schoolhouse, and it generally contributed an average of about one-sixth of the total monetary cost of the building, grounds, and equipment"(Anderson, 1988, p. 154). Anderson explains some conditions under which Rosenwald funds could be received:
. . .Black residents of the selected school district were required to raise enough money to match or exceed the amount requested from the Rosenwald Fund, which initially was a maximum of $350; the approval and cooperation of the state, county, or township school officers were required; all property, including the land, money, and other voluntary contributions by Blacks, was to be deeded to the local public school authorities; the school building to be erected had to be approved by Tuskegee's Extension Department; and the efforts in each state were to be coordinated by the state agents of Negro education and the Jeanes Fund supervisors, (p. 158)
In spite of these rather stringent and demanding requirements, the poorest of Black communities showed an incredible capacity to mobilize their collective resources and take advantage of the opportunity presented (Anderson, 1988; Gill, 2002; Savage, 2002).
While other schools (schools for Whites) were able to grow, many African American schools remained small, one-room, one-teacher schools that had to perform many functions with a minimum of resources (Fultz, 1995). Beyond initial fundraising campaigns to procure school facilities, communities had to keep raising funds to provide maintenance and support for the buildings. To this end, "In the late 1920s, each of 14 southern states established 'Rosenwald School Day,' an annual event that punctuated the year-long campaigns to raise money and contribute labor for school improvement activities" (Anderson, 1988, p. 173) These activities even persisted during the years of the Great Depression. Walker (1996) tells of how until desegregation, Black parents and community members regularly contributed various necessities to schools, such as, "stage curtains, band uniforms, pianos," money to raise funds for a bus, and whatever else was needed (p. 200). Though people may have been poor, there was "No Poverty of Spirit" when it came to education within these communities (Walker, 1996, p. 199).
African American school communities were overwhelmingly reliant on community initiative and collective action. Thus, these schools developed as community institutions where community members could focus their collective energies toward a common goal-they could "invest in each other" and actively create "palpable resources" to improve their lives (Greenbaum, 2002, p. 19). And since these schoolhouses were community institutions in which everyone had a vested interest, they reinforced the educational and communal values that facilitated their construction. Everyone did not share the same attitude toward education; however, common behavioral patterns served as "evidence [of] the educational and communal values Blacks transmitted from generation to generation" (Anderson, 1988, p. 173).
SACRIFICE
To gain the benefits of integration, Black communities voluntarily sacrificed their "leadership traditions, school culture, and educational heritage for the other benefits of desegregation" (Cecelski, 1994, pp. 8-9). However, punitively inspired school closings, demotions, and dismissals of Black teachers and administrators, and years of subtle and overt racism have left many Black students separated from their community's educational heritage.
Cecelski (1994) attributes the "mass closing of Black schools" as "part of a broader pattern of racism that marred school desegregation throughout the South (p. 7)." He writes:
As desegregation swept through the region in the 1960s and 1970s, White southern school leaders routinely shut down these Black institutions, no matter how new or well located, and transferred their students to former White schools. [. . .]Instead of reconciling Black and White schools on equal terms, White leaders made school desegregation a one-way street, (p. 7)
The closing of buildings, dismissal and demotion of revered educational leaders, and transfer of education outside of the community, under the control of the dominant culture, had significant impacts on the day-to-day practice of the community. These kinds of actions had alienating impacts on both parents and students (Edwards, 1996).
Many historically Black schoolhouses across the South were not adequate to serve as schools in the larger, integrated setting. However, just as with large schools that should not have been closed, an intangible aspect of community was lost when these schoolhouses were closed. Walker (1996) writes:
Although Black schools were indeed commonly lacking in facilities and funding, some evidence suggests that the environment of the segregated school had some affective traits, institutional policies, and community support that helped Black children learn in spite of the neglect their schools received from White school boards, (p. 3)
To some, the closing of schools felt like death had come to the community (Shircliffe, 2001). Others felt as if the community had lost its center (Dempsey & Noblit, 1993).
In their discussion of schooling and community, Dempsey and Noblit (1993) elaborate on the importance that continuity of place, purpose, and people have for a community's identity. They discuss their case study of the Rougemont School and how it was a "key institutional base for the continuities that [made] community possible" (p. 59). The closure of this school disrupted the practice of community and signaled an end to the caring relationships that had been supported by its presence.
Irvine and Irvine (1983) discuss how Black schools were community-centered institutions that "addressed the deeper psychological and sociological needs of their clients" (p. 416). They write:
Understanding the Black community involves understanding its basis for solidarity, its implied sense of control, its values and its collective aspirations for its young. Moreover, it involves understanding how institutional resources and other means are arranged to meet the ends. (p. 419)
School closures and the displacement of Black professionals undermined the arrangement of community-school institutional resources, and the ability of communities to work together in community-centered and community-controlled institutions to motivate their youth. Savage (2002) echoes these views when explaining how schools provided venues for "resource development," "community leadership," and "extraordinary service" (p. 207).
When it came to Black teachers, the first years of desegregation were not a time of advancement and opportunity. Cecelski (1994) writes:
. . . an estimated 3,150 Black teachers were displaced by 1970. In a five-state survey, the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare (HEW) confirmed that between 1968 and 1971 alone, at least 1,000 Black educators lost jobs while 5,000 White teachers were hired. Teacher's unions, a U.S. congressional committee, and several scholars documented widespread displacement of Black educators across the South. Holding less than 2 percent of local school board positions in the region, Black citizens did not have the political power to stem this tide. (pp. 8-9)
While Black teachers in the classroom became scarce, the Black principal almost became extinct (Abney, 1974; Franklin, 2002; Irvine & Irvine, 1983).
It is clear that African American communities bore the brunt of desegregation. For increased educational opportunities, many African Americans sacrificed their most beloved community institutions (outside of the church). The network of community relationships had to be reworked, and motivational sources for the educational achievement of Black youth had to take root in less collectivized contexts (Irvine & Irvine, 1983). However, as the case studies reveal, the schools are still valued by those aware of the legacy of caring and community that they represent.
CASE STUDIES
The two school reclamation projects (the author's term for these efforts) profiled in this article are The Glover School Historic Site renovation project, conducted by the Bealsville, Inc. in Bealsville FL, and The "Old Smithville Colored School" renovation project, conducted by Iota Upsilon Lambda, Inc. (the Montgomery County, Maryland graduate chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc.). Both renovation projects are currently ongoing, and both groups plan to establish museums and tutorial centers in the finished facilities. One group in this case study is a physical community while the other constitutes a community of interest (individuals held together by common concerns rather than geographical boundaries). Yet, while the individual make-up, nature, and function of the organizations are different, the motivations for conducting the projects revealed an interesting and current manifestation of the educational "core value" (Franklin, 2002) described earlier.
METHODOLOGY
The work presented here is a partial description of research done toward as a dissertation in applied anthropology. Research questions that guided the interrogation of the literature, research design, and analysis are (a) What do African American schoolhouses symbolize, and how is this symbolism being used by community groups seeking to call upon historical resources to reinforce history and educational values within their children? (b) What do the case studies of the Glover and Smithville schools reveal about commonly held educational values within the Black community, and how are these two examples indicative of broader patterns of thought and action? Methods selected to answer these questions were participant observation, interviews, and archival research.
Participant Observation
Participant observation is the "foundation of cultural anthropology" (Bernard, 1994, p. 136). Its purpose is to build trusting relationships between the researcher and the community of individuals that the researcher hopes to learn about. Over the past three years, the author has been involved in each project and each community. Due to the author's location in Tampa, Florida, he was able to spend more time at the Bealsville site. With the help of a key informant and Glover School Renovation Project Manager, Mrs. Carrie Johnston, the author was able to make strong contacts in the community, and to take an active role in various community events. The author also took an active role in the school renovation by engaging in grant writing and representing the community at several venues.
The author's connections with the Coles ville community (The Smithville School is located in the community of Colesville) and with Iota Upsilon Lambda (IUL) have existed from birth. His parents have lived in Colesville since 1966, and he lived there throughout childhood. He also became a member of Iota Upsilon Lambda in December of 1995. During the time as an active member he participated in many of the organization's activities. On trips to Colesville, the author was able to attend board meetings of IUL, Inc. and to help maintain school grounds. Through his father, Andrew Klugh, the author's key informant and Project Administrator for IUL, Inc., he has been able to keep a watchful eye on the day-to-day progress of the project.
Interviews
At each site, the author conducted at least ten in-depth, semi-structured interviews. These interviews were designed to: (a) collect specific information of the processes of carrying out a renovation project (from individuals involved in the renovation projects) and (b) collect information on the historical developments and demographic changes of the Bealsville and Smith ville school communities (from individuals historically tied to the areas or the schools). He sought to interview five individuals conducting the renovation projects, and five individuals historically tied to the school and community. The University of South Florida Institutional Review Board approval was applied for and granted to this project.
In all, he did a total of 21 interviews designed to elicit informative responses. Key informants proved to be valuable assets for arranging interviews. Each individual interviewed was provided with a copy of his/her transcript to make revisions and keep for personal records.
Archival Research
Archives used included the University of South Florida and Fisk University special collections, local historical societies, county planning departments, school boards, and local museums. At each site, local historical societies proved to be a repository of sparsely published information concerning the communities. Furthermore, persons interviewed often provided documents concerning the history of their family, school, and community.
Analysis and Interpretation
For the purpose of analysis and interpretation, all interviews were tape recorded, transcribed, and coded for significant themes. The author specifically looked for statements that described the feelings that people assign to these schoolhouses and why they are motivated to preserve them. He also looked for trends in these feelings and motivations that may be indicative of shared values. Wherever possible, interview data were validated with archival data.
THE GLOVER SCHOOL HISTORIC SITE IN BEALSVILLE, FLORIDA
Unlike Eatonville, Florida that was made popular by the anthropologist and writer, Zora Neale Hurston, the history of the Bealsville community is relatively unknown. A small, semi-rural community about 40 miles east of the city of Tampa, Bealsville does not have its own post office, and the mailing address for its 1,200 residents reveals that they officially reside in Plant City, Florida. For those driving on the main thoroughfare, Highway 60, there is nothing to distinguish the community except for small signs on the East and West borders, Ruby Williams's fruit and folk art stand, and a small brown sign marking the turn for the Glover School Historic Site. But like many small places, the history of Bealsville uncovers an insightful story about the American past.
Bealsville was first named Alafia by former slaves who homesteaded the area in the 1860s. Over the years, residents were able to work together to prevent losing large amounts of land due to the effects of foreclosures, migration, and heir property. Although some land has been sold to neighboring phosphate mines, strawberry farms, and families migrating to the area, the majority of the land in Bealsville is still owned by descendants of its first settlers. However, Bealsville's rural character is undergoing a slow but definite change due to the recent encroachment of urban sprawl from the Brandon and Plant City areas.
Increases in land prices and associated taxes have caused several residents to sell land that was once strictly kept in the family. In many cases, the resultant newcomers, often representing a diversity of ethnicities, lack a shared sense of historical connection to the community and tend to prioritize their commitments to surrounding urban areas. Likewise, many longtime Bealsville families also have a greater involvement in affairs outside of Bealsville. For the first time in the history of this small community, residents are experiencing the more urban- and suburbanassociated sense of estrangement from their neighbors. This is compounded by the fact that there are now seven churches in this small community that used to have one central church for fellowship.
Similar to many other communities, another force that destabilized continuity was the fact that in order to find opportunity, many young people had to leave. Many individuals are now feeling a "call to home" (Stack, 1996) and are choosing to retire in Bealsville; thereby, making an eclectic mix of large, spacious homes with pools and two-car garages and early twentieth century houses in need of care. As these individuals return and as demographic shifts make it possible for younger generations to find opportunity without leaving the community, Bealsville is able to benefit from increased organizational talents and energy.
Bealsville's history mirrors broader trends in rural African American communities in many ways. Former slaves who settled the area quickly became part of the first crusade for African American education. Their first communal project was building their church which also functioned as a "Sabbath school" (Anderson, 1988, p. 12). Their next project was the construction of a separate school building known as the Jameson School. Teachers for this school were sought out and funded by members of the community. Although not an option for many, those who had the opportunity to go to high school had to migrate to nearby Bartow, Lakeland, or Tampa until a Black high school was built in Plant City in 1936 (Bruton & Bailey 1984, p. 279). Those who went to college had to leave the area-going East to Daytona, Florida (Bethune Cookman College) or North to Tallahassee to attend the Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University. Unfortunately, despite their educational achievements, job opportunities for these early scholars were generally limited to teaching.
Bealsville was able to improve its educational facilities in the 1930s. Although personal recollections and archival documentation from the Rosenwald Fund do not show that Bealsville was officially included in the Rosenwald school-building program, the model of the program appears to have been closely imitated. Families went "around the world" (G. S. Cunningham, personal communication, September 7, 2003) collecting money, and in-kind items, from all who resided in the community. In this manner and through fundraising in the form of barbecues and fish fries, the community was able to put $1,100 dollars and 10 acres of land toward the construction of a new school building. Residents of the community decided to name the new school after William Glover-an elder in the Black community.
The $1,100 dollars and the 10 acres of land were turned over to the Hillsborough County School Board. The school board assisted in the construction of the school, and, in later years, additional classrooms were added. This new school quickly became a central point of activity in this small community. Although some students came from surrounding communities, Bealsville students were often in classes with and taught by cousins, neighbors, and fellow church members. Local people staffed the lunchroom and made up most of the custodial staff. Close relationships were formed between students, teachers, administrators, and parents in this environment. This was the ideal community school that reigns positively in popular nostalgia.
Change came in 1971 when a court-ordered plan was enacted to desegregate Hillsborough County schools. To adhere to the federal judge's recommendation of a "Black-White ratio of 20 to 80" in each school, Black students were bused to formerly all-White schools for nearly all of their schooling, and former all-Black schools were turned into sixth- or seventh-grade centers (Shircliffe, 2002, p. 140). Due to these changes, the Glover School was converted to a sixth-grade center. For their sixth-grade year, White students were bused to the Glover School from surrounding areas, while several Glover teachers were moved around the county to help desegregate other schools. The school operated in this manner for ten years before the county decided to close it due to low enrollment and budgetary concerns (M. Wingate, personal communication, September 7, 2003).
An Incorporated Community Organization
Bealsville's residents were not passive observers when it came to their school. In order to attain the positive benefits of racial desegregation, this community was willing to send its children outside of its borders for their formative years of education. Residents were also willing to accept a diminished function and a new student population for their own school that used to serve students from the early grades until they went to high school. These changes disrupted established patterns of interaction and involvement within the Bealsville community, such as the Glover School PTA and community-school activities such as the annual May Day celebration. Residents were willing to sacrifice comfort and familiarity for increased educational opportunities.
Although desegregation had occurred rather smoothly in the Bealsville community (I. White, personal communication, September 7, 2003), problems arose when residents started hearing whispers that the school board had plans to close the school. Concerned residents went to school board hearings and argued that their school be kept open. Eventually, the community started a lawsuit against the school board's decision; however, this suit was unsuccessful.
Having lost their fight to keep the Glover School open, residents shifted their demands to having the buildings and property deeded back to the community. In order to comply with the Hillsborough County School Board's conditions for deeding the recently closed Glover School complex (consisting of seven structures and 10 acres of land) back to the community, in 1981, residents formed the nonprofit group, Bealsville, Inc. From that time, the members of Bealsville, Inc. have been responsible for maintaining the grounds of the school and for directing all activities that occur there (H. Davis, personal communication, September 14, 2003).
Although the community now had the school, it lacked a formal plans about what to do with it. Also lacking was the money to make necessary repairs and renovations and energetic volunteers with knowledge of how to raise funds and get a large renovation project started. The board of Bealsville, Inc., determined not to let its school fall into total disrepair, made sure that the buildings and grounds were maintained. However, due to lack of funds and inconsistent use, the Glover School complex was slowly deteriorating.
In the mid-1990s, although the community was doing well overall, residents started noticing vandalism and apparent drug use at the school. Upon learning that this type of activity was beginning in their own community, the members of Bealsville, Inc. quickly moved to start the Glover School renovation project in 1995. In 1998, Bealsville, Inc. received its 501c3 status, making it eligible for various sources of funding to assist with the renovations. The goal of the project is to completely renovate the old school buildings and to make them available to house various kinds of social programs for all ages, an historical museum and archive, and community events.
One particular returnee who had a positive impact on the Glover School renovation was Mrs. Carrie Johnston. Retired from a career as a psychiatric nurse outside of the state, she moved back into the area just as interest in getting the renovation project was gaining momentum. A former student of the school, Mrs. Johnston joined the board of Bealsville, Inc. and made the renovation of the school her priority by becoming its first renovation project manager.
Throughout the years, residents had invested a lot of time and money in the school by holding annual fundraising banquets and even a Glover School homecoming. But through Mrs. Johnston's fundraising and organizational talents, Bealsville Inc. was able to start a daily lunch program for seniors in the community, upgrade the rooms in the facility to house community meetings and tutoring for youth, put a tin roof on the entire facility, and raise more than $300,000 dollars in funding. She was also able to make many other improvements such as helping to get the school on the National Register of Historic Places. Regretfully, with the building still under renovation and much work to do, Mrs. Johnston suffered a sudden illness, and passed in May of 2003 (Zink, 2003).
This project could have easily come to a halt after the passing of such an energetic and pivotal person. However, two months later, a new renovation project manager was named and the Board of Directors was getting back on track with the project. Others in the community are making efforts to prepare a book on the accomplishments of individuals who attended the Glover School. This way, they will make certain that alumni outside of the area will stay integrated in the Glover School and Bealsville family.
To many of the residents, the Glover School is the "heart of the community," and the closure of the school had a "devastating impact" on community togetherness (I. White, personal communication, September 7, 2003). However, because of the shared sense of attachment to the school, and the benefits that a fully functioning community center may offer this small, semi-rural enclave, the residents of Bealsville find themselves still held together by the centripetal force of the Glover School.
THE OLD SMITHVILLE COLORED SCHOOL
The Smithville School was also developed within the context of a Black landholding community. Unlike Bealsville, this community was engulfed in the urban sprawl of Washington, DC decades ago. The area, once referred to by residents as Smithville (or Smith Village), is actually a section of Colesville, Maryland, which is part of a larger area known as Silver Spring. Although current distinctions between these two areas are futile, in the late 1800s and early 1900s, these distinctions were very clear.
The settlement had its start at the end of the Civil War when George Smith, a former slave, purchased 17 acres of land (Fly & Fly, 1983, p. 133). He was eventually able to accumulate over 100 acres, and was joined by other family members who came to the area. Over the years, as generations passed and the number of heirs grew, a small farming enclave, consisting of several closely related families, developed. These families farmed their land and interacted with other Black enclaves through religious observances, school activities, baseball games, and informal gettogethers (C. Smith, personal communication, July 12, 2003). Because this rural hamlet consisted of just a few families and was socially integrated with larger areas with more historically grounded Black populations (J. Offord, personal communication, July 12, 2003), families relied on churches and schools outside of their community. In fact, it was not until 1927 that the Smithville Colored School was built (Clark & Brown, 1978, pp. 44-45).
The Smithville School, according to Rosenwald protocol, was built through the cooperation of the Smithville community and the Montgomery County Board of Education. Residents of the community donated the land for the school (C. Smith, personal communication, July 12, 2003), and the school board made the school an official part of the school system. The campus consisted of two acres and two wood-frame buildings, and it hosted students from Smithville and the surrounding areas. It was never a modern facility because it never had heat, other than a woodburning stove, or indoor plumbing. Moreover, several classes occupied the same room at the same time, creating an obstacle to learning for some students (J. Dorsey, personal communication, July 14, 2003). But former students reminisce about the care and discipline that they received from their teachers (L. Kelley, personal communication, July 15, 2003).
For residents of Smithville, the school was an integral part of community life. Community events (such as movie nights) were held there, and community members participated in the upkeep of the buildings and in school-related activities. Besides the community baseball diamond, the school was the only public place that Blacks in this area had at their immediate disposal (V. Jackson, personal communication, July 15, 2003).
The Smithville School was closed in 1952 when the Montgomery County Board of Education closed all "colored schools" and consolidated them into a few modern buildings until desegregation occurred in 1954. The building was used briefly as a community center before it was transferred to the county government in 1956. The property was then converted for use as a school bus depot and the old school house became a storage facility (MacMaster & Hiebert, 1976).
Since the closing of the school, the surrounding community has undergone vast changes. Because the Colesville area is near the Maryland-Washington, D.C. border, urban sprawl meant increased demand for land in the Colesville area. In the early 1960s, residents began selling land to developers who, in turn, built single-family homes. Since then, the area has grown dramatically and has become an indistinguishable part of the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. Although there is still a Smith Village Road, a handful of descendents from Smith, and other related families in the area, the overwhelming majority of the residents are post-1960 implants with no knowledge of the area's earlier history.
Housing developments with home prices averaging between $300,000 and $600,000 dollars now permeate the area, and the McDonald's on the corner is much more of a landmark than the old Smithville School buildings. In fact, given that the Smithville School grounds were used as a bus depot, it is safe to say that a very few individuals in the area knew that the Smithville School ever existed. If not for a few small paragraphs in a couple of local history books, it appears that the history of the Smithville School and the Smithville area would have been lost.
THE IOTA UPSILON LAMBDA CHAPTER OF AΦA, INC.
Individuals conducting the project at the Smithville School are members of Iota Upsilon Lambda (IUL)-The Montgomery County, Maryland graduate chapter of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. This chapter, founded in 1970, consists of more than 100 professional, African American men who have made significant contributions to the Montgomery County community. The achievements of IUL have been recognized by the State Governor, the County Executive, the County Council, and congressional officials for dedicated work toward the improvement of the community through education, involvement, and service.
Alpha Phi Alpha, the first of the Black Greek organizations, was founded in 1906 on the campus of Cornell University when nine male students came together to form a "social study club." From the beginning, Alpha Phi Alpha emphasized scholarship-sponsoring an ongoing "Go-to-High School, Go-to-College Movement" and various other educational programs (Wesley, 1996, p. 16).
Members of Alpha Phi Alpha enter the fraternity committing themselves to a lifetime of community service and involvement with the fraternity. Graduate chapters regularly admit professional men to the fraternity who are interested in the service aspects of the brotherhood. Since its creation, the Iota Upsilon Lambda Chapter has sponsored many educational programs. Some of these include an annual Middle School Career Fair, an annual Scholarship Ball to raise money for college scholarships, tutoring for elementary school students, and an annual Black Youth Achievement Program in which outstanding high school students from around the county are given awards in honor of noted Alpha men, such as W. E. B. Du Bois, Paul Robeson, Jesse Owens, Duke Ellington, and Martin Luther King, Jr.
IUL, INC. AND THE SMITHVILLE SCHOOL
Since its inception, IUL has been interested in finding a permanent meeting facility. This facility/house would be used to have general membership and committee meetings, tutorial programs, and other activities. A housing fund was started, but there was never an agreed upon site designated for purchase.
In the late 1990s, a new president, Russell Campbell, Sr., was elected to head IUL. One of the promises that he made was that in his tenure, IUL would find a house. Therefore, he reorganized the housing committee and fitted them with the charge to find a house. As these events were taking place, Alfred Bailey, a member of the fraternity, informed Campbell about some surplus property that the county had, and the fact that it used to be a school for Black children. This fact, in particular, resonated with Campbell whose parents attended similar schools in South Carolina, and whose father once taught at a similar school (R. Campbell, Sr., personal communication, July 18, 2003).
IUL approached the county about the property and was able to work out a deal in which they purchased the property, known as the Smithville "Colored" School, from Montgomery County, Maryland for $10 with the understanding that they would preserve the historic building by creating a museum that will depict the history and achievements of African Americans in Montgomery County. Additionally, an educational center equipped with computers and other learning aids and a community meeting area will be created in the building. The second building on the property, which is not historic, will eventually be made into a meetings facility. To direct the Smithville School project, IUL formed a subsidiary organization-IUL, Inc. With money from a matching grant provided by the county, construction is currently underway.
DISCUSSION
Although goals for the Glover and Smithville School renovations are very similar (tutoring, museum/archive, and meeting facility) the organizations managing the projects, and the locations of the two schools, offer interesting contrasts. Both schools were originally built in close-knit, rural, Black landholding enclaves. However, these demographics have not remained the same in both areas. On one hand there is a semi-rural enclave dominated with residents that are intimately tied to the history of their community and school. Almost every individual on the Board of Directors for Bealsville, Inc. was at one time a student, or a teacher, at the Glover School. And, although the Bealsville area has undergone changes, it still retains a lot of its former character. On the other hand, the Smithville School exists in an area that has undergone dramatic demographic changes leaving almost no trace of the community that once existed. Members of IUL, Inc. are not historically tied to the immediate community. In fact, the board of IUL, Inc. is composed of individuals from places such as South Carolina, Michigan, Arkansas, and Texas. However, several of these gentlemen did go to small, segregated schoolhouses very much like the Smithville School.
While both groups (Bealsville, Inc. and IUL, Inc.) are composed of energetic and competent people, IUL, Inc. has the benefit of a larger talent pool. Of the 100-plus members, several are professionals holding terminal degrees in their fields. In particular interest to this project, one member has his own architectural firm, and at least two have experience managing construction work. Given these resources, IUL was able to raise over $60,000 dollars from its own members before having to do outside fundraising. But this is definitely not a case of big city know-how versus small town naivete. The Bealsville community also contains professionals who can navigate the local political landscape, and individuals experienced in construction. Bealsville also has had the advantage of flexible grant money not dependent on raising matching funds. In addition, Hillsborough County television has done two documentaries on the history of Bealsville (Dowling, 2002; Mills & Rhoads, 1988).
While IUL has gotten substantial support from Montgomery County, the support has not been to the same extent as Hillsborough County's support for the Glover School (most likely due to the fact that Montgomery County is a much more urban area with greater budget demands). However, the relationships that Bealsville, Inc. and IUL, Inc. have with their respective counties have proved to be a significant factor in their abilities to carry out these projects.
COMMON THREADS
One particularly interesting observation about the work of these two groups has been their similar progress. Both projects were funded nearly at the same time. Both groups were putting on roofs at the same time. In addition, they have had similar problems with contractors and getting electrical work done. However, because the Glover School complex is so much larger than that of the Smithville School, the author anticipates that the Smithville School will be completed first.
Both of these projects represent valuable resources to their respective communities. The Glover School has already been the site of family reunions, various community meetings, a health fair, tutoring, a daily senior lunch program, and a drug relapse prevention center-not to mention the fact that a Hispanic church used to rent out the cafeteria. It is a site where community leadership is practiced and expressed-where community members literally come together and decide on local political candidates to vote for based on the candidates relationship with the community (W. Thomas, Sr., personal communication, September 12, 2003).
Although the Smithville School is not yet ready to house meetings, several local civic groups, that would like to hold future meetings, have already approached IUL. Also, other Greek and alumni organizations may be able to use the facility (A. Klugh, personal communication, July 17, 2003). With various meetings, the museum, and educational programming, the Smithville School will also be an important site for "practicing community" (Halperin, 1998).
Despite their demographic differences, all persons involved in these two projects expressed a fervent desire to save this part of history. Lowenthal (1998) writes, "We value our heritage most when it seems at risk; threats of loss spur owners and stewardship. Sneers at a lack of heritage impel efforts to retrieve or re-create it" (p. 24). A common theme in the interview data was the expressed importance of not losing this history. The majority of the people involved in these projects who were knowledgeable about the history of their community are over the age of sixty. As they look back at their own education, many feel that their schools, although lacking in facilities, provided them with inspiration that they have carried with them throughout their lives. They are not simply preserving these schools for the sake of aesthetics: they want to show the world that their past is valuable by honoring the legacy of generations preceding them and making sure that their legacy will not be forgotten. Regarding her motivations for getting involved in the renovation of the Glover School, Mrs. Carrie Johnston stated:
And this would complete the dreams of the generation before me. . . I began to see how significant it would be for other people to be able to walk through that school and re-experience those things that happened to them when they were growing up. And so that was my primary reason for getting involved. So the alumni could all share that vision - no matter how old we got. So that we wouldn't walk into that place and not remember what was there that caused us to love it so much. And it wasn't the old teachers that beat your fingers or the outdoor toilets and stuff like that. There was something deeper that caused us to go back there and just stand and look. And I would like to see my children think about me standing there looking. (C. Johnston, personal communication, May 3, 2002)
Because of Mrs. Johnston's contributions, and the ongoing work of the Board of Directors of Bealsville, Inc., the community will be able to add new chapters to the story of their school.
Another common theme is the stated desire to use these old schools as a means to inspire and teach children. When asked about the value and possible impacts of the Smithville School project, Harold Navy, the architect for IUL, Inc., stated:
I think it's important that Whites understand how Blacks had to be educated originally. And it means a lot to me because I went to a school just like that in Texas when I was in elementary school. It was a little Rosenwald school that was a frame school-and we went from 1st through 6th grade at that time in one huge room-in area-it was like an open school plan in the late 60s that came out as the way to go. But you had teachers teaching several classes of kids together. And we had-in the middle of the floor-a big wood stove that heated the whole area. And part of our job was to bring wood in to do it. So, it meant a lot to me because I was educated in one of those buildings and I figured-I didn't miss a step because I had good teachers all the way through that motivated me, and I wanted to learn. So, I thought that kids now that figure they can only be educated in air-conditioned spaces need to know that this is the way things used to be. (H. Navy, personal communication, July 23, 2003)
Russell Campbell, Sr., the Chairman of the Board for IUL, Inc., stated:
We are taking that which was designed to separate us, and using it to unite us. Our young people don't have a clue of what we went through to get them to where they are today. I work in the public schools and I've seen kids take their textbooks and just throw them away-just drop them in the trashcan because they don't want to read them. And these are African American kids. I see them clowning more than they are taking their work seriously. I try to talk to them one on one about it because they don't have a clue. It is our hope that this school-once it is up and running and part of the curriculum for the Montgomery County School System-that a part of their middle school education would be to come there for maybe a 2 to 3 day educational session in the environment that these kids were in-you know-with just regular old chalk boards-with old books. So they can see what it was like. At the same time they can see what a pot-belly stove looks like-or chimneys that had to be used for heat and how that , relates to their education. (R. Campbell, Sr., personal communication, July 18, 2003)
Given IUL's emphasis on education, the Smithville School project is a very nice addition that will present further opportunities to provide educational programming.
CONCLUSION
The case studies presented in this article explore the significance of segregation-era schoolhouses and why some African American organizations are engaged in their preservation. Those involved in these preservation activities are motivated by desires to honor the strivings of their forbearers and preserve their own history for future generations, by a yearning to find ways to inspire children and teach them about their heritage, and by a sense of urgency about the real potential of losing this heritage altogether.
Both of these projects will be successful. However, one has to wonder to what extent children will be inspired by supplemental educational activities (such as tutoring) located in these buildings. Although preserving these landmarks of heritage is the main goal, individuals involved in the projects express a desire to reinvigorate educational values and activity in segments of the community where they have waned. Writing on the subject of declining educational activity on the part of African American communities and parents, V. P. Franklin (2002) explains:
With the Supreme Court's Brown decision and the federal government's efforts in the 1950s and 1960s to insure African American children's access to all publicly supported schools; many African Americans came to believe that they would no longer have to use their collective resources to provide excellent, or even adequate, public or private schooling for their children. Now, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, we know (or should know) that this is not the case. (p. 180)
Many former students of these old schoolhouses are entering the senior years of their lives. They recall inspirational school experiences that prepared them for successful lives. Noting the disillusion in some of today's youth, they see these schools as a means of passing down their values and experiences. Specific programming, however, is still in the planning stages at the time of this writing. These schools were places where the whole community came together to devote resources toward education. Collective efforts taken to create and maintain them demonstrate a legacy of cooperation and shared values. Preservation efforts of Bealsville, Inc. and IUL, Inc. are a continuation of this legacy. Thus, these groups are torchbearers-literally building on the symbols of past cooperation in hopes of passing this legacy to future generations.
REFERENCES
Abney, E. (1974). Status of Florida's Black school principals. The Journal of Negro Education, 43, 3-8.
America's 11 Most endangered historic places. (2002). Preservation, 54, 13.
Anderson, J. D. (1988). The education of Blacks in the South, 1860-1935. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
Bernard, H. R. (1994). Research methods in anthropology: Qualitative and quantitative approaches (2nd ed.). Newbury Park, CA: Sage Publications.
Bruton, Q. G., & Bailey, D., Jr. (1984). Plant City: It's origin and history. Winston-Salem, NC: Hunter Publishing.
Bullock, H. A. (1967). A history of Negro education in the South: From 1619 to the present. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Cecelski, D. S. (1994). Along freedom road: Hyde County, North Carolina and the fate of Black schools in the South. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
Clarke, N., & Brown, L. (1978). History of the Black public schools of Montgomery County, Maryland, 1872-1961. New York: Vantage Press.
Dempsey, V., & Noblit, G. (1993). The demise of caring in an African American community: One consequence of school desegregation. Urban Review, 25, 47-61.
Dowling, P. (Producer). (2002). Timeline: Bealsville [Documentary]. Hillsborough County, FL: Hillsborough Television.
Edwards, P. A. (1996). Before and after school desegregation: African American parents' involvement in schools. In M. J. Shujaa (Ed.), Beyond desegregation: The politics of quality in African American schooling (pp. 138-161). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.
Fly, E. L., & Fly, L. W. (1983). Northeastern Montgomery County Black oral history study. Rockville, MD: Entourage, Inc.
Franklin, V. P. (2002). Introduction: Cultural capital and African American education. Journal of African American History, 87, 175-181.
Fultz, M. (1995). African American teachers in the South, 1890-1940: Powerlessness and the ironies of expectation and protest. History of Education Quarterly, 35, 401-422.
Gill, P. B. (2002). Community, commitment, and African American education: The Jackson School of South County, Texas, 1925-1954. Journal of African American History, 87, 256268.
Greenbaum, S. D. (2002). More than Black: Afro-Cubans in Tampa. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press.
Halperin, R. H. (1998). Practicing community: Class, culture, and power in an urban neighborhood. Austin: University of Texas Press.
Irvine, I., & Irvine, J. (1983). The impact of the desegregation process on the education of Black students: Key variables. The Journal of Negro Education, 52, 410-422.
Lowenthal, D. (1998). Crusade and the spoils of history (2nd ed.). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
MacMaster, R. K., & Heibert, R. E. (1976). A grateful remembrance: The story of Montgomery County Maryland. Rockville, MD: Montgomery County Historical Society.
Mills, T. H., & Rhoads, L. H. (Producers). (1988). Bealsville: Wings of deliverance. Hillsborough County, FL: Florida West Coast Public Broadcasting, Inc.
National Trust for Historic Preservation, (n.d.) America's 11 most endangered 2002-Rosenwald schools. Retrieved July 27, 2005, from http://www.nationaltrust.org/11 most/2002/ rosen wald.html.
Savage, C. J. (2002). Cultural capital and African American agency: The economic struggle for effective education for African Americans in Franklin, Tennessee, 1890-1967. Journal of African American History, 87, 206-235.
Shircliffe, B. J. (2001). "We Got the Best of that World": A case for the study of nostalgia in the oral history of school segregation. Oral History Review, 28, 59-84.
Shircliffe, B. J. (2002). Desegregation and the historically Black high school: The establishment of Howard W. Blake in Tampa, Florida. Urban Review, 34, 135-158.
Smith, C. E. M. (1999). Tuskegee airman: The biography of Charles E. McGee, Air Force fighter combat record holder. Boston, MA: Branden Publishing.
Stack, C. B. (1996). Call to home: African Americans reclaim the rural South. New York: Basic Books.
Walker, V. S. (1996). Their highest potential: An African American school community in the segregated South. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
Werner, M. R. (1939). Julius Rosenwald: The life of a practical humanitarian. New York: Harper & Brothers.
Wesley, C. H. (1996). The history of Alpha Phi Alpha: A development in college life. Baltimore, MD: The Foundation Press.
Zink, J. (2003, May 15) Carrie Johnston. St. Petersburg Times, 7B.
Elgin L. Klugh Montclair State University
AUTHOR
ELGIN L. KLUGH is Assistant Professor of Anthropology, Montclair State University, Montclair, New Jersey.
All queries and comments regarding this article should be addressed to elginklugh@yahoo.com.
Copyright Howard University Summer 2005
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved