I admit it's Better than yesterday, but for me, Better is not good enough...
I don’t remember if I heard the gunshot. I just remember the hysteria that followed. My friend and I jumped off the bleachers and quickly hid underneath them listening to people scream and run. It was 1992 and we were at our Friday night high school football game. The band was playing “Pork and Beans.” They didn’t hear it either. All they remember is being rushed through the underground tunnel to the awaiting bus. We found out the next day that no one was hurt. Someone had shot a gun in the air, and it was not someone from our school. This was a long time before the days of school shootings, but it was disturbing still.
The football game was being held at historic Cameron field. It used to be the finest football field in Virginia when it was built in the 30s for the-all white high school. I’m sure it was stunning in it’s heyday. Now it was in rough shape to say the least. The gun shots went off about 18 years after our school had become integrated.
In 1982, I started first grade in a desegregated elementary school in Petersburg, Virginia. By then, the schools in Petersburg had been integrated for 8 years. They were very late to the game. Brown vs. the Board of Education was in 1954. There was “Massive Resistance" and underhanded legislation that allowed the segregation to continue until 1974. When I came on the scene, my school was about 1/2 black and 1/2 white. As you can see the mass exodus had begun. The resistance against segregation had failed, so the white population decided to leave town and move to the all-white neighboring cities.
Fast forward to my middle school years. By then, my middle school was almost all black. I’m not sure if I really noticed this at the time or if I really cared. The only thing I remember not liking was that our middle school (the former black high school) had been built in the poor part of town and was not in the best shape. When you think of the time that had transpired and what had occurred in that time, it is quite astounding. Almost the entire white population of Petersburg had moved out of town in a little over a decade.
By the time high school rolled around, we were all excited to leave Peabody Middle School and attend Petersburg High School. The high school was in the good part of town and had much coveted air conditioning. It was beautiful. It had been built in 1974 to accommodate the integration of the schools. This was before the exodus, and Petersburg had the funds to build a nice school. Now that the mass exodus was complete, funds were not as good. Not only had residents left, but businesses had left too. Hence the reason we had a football field on the other side of town in disrepair. We couldn’t afford to build a new football field.
After the gunshot incident, the other schools all refused to come to our football field. It was decided that we could no longer have evening games at Cameron Field. We had to have our games during the day on Saturday. This was majorly disheartening to all of us because there is nothing like a Friday night football game. Eventually all the games became away games, and we had no say in the matter. We couldn’t afford a new football field until 8 years later in 2000. I think what was so frustrating about this was that we were in an all-too-familiar impossible situation. We didn’t have a say in the matter, and we didn’t have the money to just build a new field. We weren’t even making money off of ticket sales to maintain the field we had. I always wondered if the gunshot had happened at a white school, would they have been in the same predicament?
Later in the school year about five of us from the honors program went to a forum of some sort. We were sitting at the top of an auditorium with stadium seating. I was sandwiched between my four super smart black friends. We were surrounded by a sea of white faces. No one in the room was black, except for my friends. I remember in open forum being asked by another student if I felt safe at my school. I found the question really odd. Interesting that the question was pointed at the one white girl in the mix. I replied quite passionately, “Of course I feel safe. I wouldn’t feel safer anywhere else. I take naps in the cafeteria before track practice.” After this interaction, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
Why was I so frustrated and upset at this question? Maybe it’s because they really still had this ridiculous untrue opinion that it was unsafe to live amongst black people. I didn’t know at the time that their parents could have very well been the ones that moved them out of Petersburg before it got too “unsafe.” Their parents could have been the ones that participated and led the “Massive Resistance” against desegregation.
At that time, I wanted to believe that all of that was behind us. I was disillusioned to say the least. I was a white girl living in a black world that just got slapped in the face by reality. I could live in both worlds safely because i was white, but the friends I was sandwiched between could not. They were considered “unsafe.” Believe it or not, Petersburg is still surrounded by mostly white towns. Segregation continues in a fancier outfit.
Over the years, I have learned the danger of pride. I have learned that the more I think I see everyone as Christ does, the more I realize I don’t. I see my similarities to the sea of white faces in the room. I see skin tone, I see waist lines, I see economic status and I see the exterior. I harken back to the verse often, “When you think you are standing firm, be careful lest you fall.” I want to be like Jesus and sit amongst people that are different from me and engage with them - to ask real honest questions that I WANT real honest answers to. I want to be a listener to the plight of those around me, especially if I don’t share in that plight. I want to be the one that does not hide from the disease and make claims that it does not exist. I agree, it is better than yesterday, but for me, better is not good enough.