Educide

The Stand

James Calabash knew he made the right choice to leave. The security that teaching offered wasn't enough. He wasn't prepared to sacrifice his mental and physical health for a pension that he might not have lived to enjoy. Practicing parkour politics and stupid-people fatigue brought on by the rapid erosion of the educational landscape drained the joy from the field. James didn't want to be an uninspired teacher and he was quickly heading there. There was nothing worse. He wasn't averse to returning to the classroom to inspire young people through his experiences in the future but he was certain that Malville education saw the last of him.

Contexting. That's how he defined it. Just packaging things in neat boxes in his head. Why? Perspective, was in order. Things had gotten too messy. Calabash faced career-defining decisions brought on by his passion for the morals he lived. His quandary; abide by the values that made him or the check that sustained him. James wasn't distraught about his circumstance, only his arrival there. He could always get a check. His integrity, on the other hand, was irreplaceable. James' choice was a hard one to make because he felt dislodged from the community that he loved and fought for, helpless that the young people whom he served with passion, who possessed so much possibilities, would continue to be exploited in a subtly erosive coup. The steadfast beliefs that served him well were situational principles, mere obstacles to be hurdled by those who dictated education to my village. Second-rate schooling, however, was extended to all students in the tri-community district–Laketown, Lynside and Malville.

James' punishment for having a pair of testicles was premeditated castration. A teacher in transition was he. What next? Start his own business? Brave the cut-throat atmosphere of the corporate market with the possible benefit of a thicker wallet? Wishful. Maybe the fulfillment of a non-profit, with little profit. Calabash had choices but they were limited in the short term. The lawsuit footprint hamstrung his candidacy. Entrepreneurship ideas were many. Calabash felt it his duty to establish a career preparation enterprise for graduates and community members who lacked or wanted to refine their career preparation skills. But, it was more charity than economic viability. He knew he could also create training media for cultural sensitivity in the workplace. Writing books, movie scripts and plays were also endeavors he considered.

It wasn't difficult drawing parallels of Malville School District's current situation and its post-World War II unresolved past. Vestiges of that time of conflict still lingered in the relationships between the three communities. It manifested in traditions that continued unchallenged, the unhealthy reflection of its public school demographic and a shortsighted "ownership" philosophy that still governed. The River metaphor, still strong. But, there was also a changing. Its own population was beginning to turnover. Precocious children full of optimism, Black, White and Brown, not constrained by the baggage of parents and grandparents were willing to traverse the River for friendship, love and community. There was hope.

Partially informed about the affairs of the district, he had a hard time reconciling his students, black and white, to their parents and grandparents' actions of the past. The turnover in Laketown's population was significant to the lack of political strength it now possesses. The war stories were not being handed down and circulated. Although there was always a two-tiered system of political currency between Laketown, Lynside and Malville, the rates had widened drastically over the last decades. Gone were the powerful, courageous, intellectually bright leaders of those tumultuous times. The NAACP branch at Laketown contracted into a feeble force. The children, except for a few were politically unconscious, uninterested in standing against the issues that bothered them. Many of those issues, the same ones that Laketown's 1969 generation of protesters battled courageously. Their courageous effort seemed in vain.

James built strong friendships that continued online and in random meetings in the nooks of the communities. He learned much from his students and maintained thick friendships with some. Mutual respect made for longevity. James still did recommendations and gave academic and career advice but in the end, the Malville administration were so bent on getting him they sacrificed the education of the community's children.

It was a season of filtering. Calabash's true friends would rise. They called him regularly to keep him encouraged, sent him job openings, texted words of support, and even offered loans. Kenton, Betty, Bella, and the King family didn't let a week go by without some form of communique. It hardened his relationship with them. Bella, one of his few close colleagues, solicited his resume so she could shop it. He was thankful.

James believed he failed them. He didn't stay in the fight. He was worn by the fighting. It hurt his family immeasurably. Suffering them anymore was just too much.

Led by Dr. Joachim Kroll, Malville's administrative leadership was a ruthless regime whose notable competencies included intimidation, coercion, manipulation and deception. The Board left the Kroll administration unchecked as state mandates, district policies and union agreements were manipulated to serve his bidding. The District's educational philosophy was hacked. Kroll, crafted the Board through shrewd politics, stomped resistance, and maintained the narcoleptic state of rapidly disenfranchising Laketown.

Calabash experienced it firsthand. In his last year, they conveniently "shifted" their educational policy and applied quasi-administrative "appointments" that favored their friends and families. It was administrative social promotion and no one could do anything about it because they played find-the-lady with the rules. Their planning created an unequal education for the students of Malville. The local NAACP, powerless, and the superintendent's own hand-sculpted committee, caught up in his web and their own self-importance.

The seeds of division planted during integration years, had grown, changing a predominantly African American, white-collar professional Laketown into a blue-collar 'hood with less college-educated students, divisive politics, un-stabling transience, and increasing rental properties. Far from the image that some projected about it, Laketown still boasted solid economic statistics despite the limited number of businesses in the community. All of 1.2 square miles, according to the 2010 US Census, Laketown's median household income is over $98,000 and only 6% of the population lived below the poverty line. Of the 1287 families living in the community just over 50% were married couples with another 27% female-headed, single-parent families. The unemployment rate of 8% masks the low quality of jobs, troubling number of part-time workers and the many residents who have left the labor force.

Yet, James was an aberration. Recapping his...