Distrust
from page AI
involvement of African Americans
in the Winston Salem/Forsyth
County school system's redistnct
ing process; the black community,
for the most part, did not come out
* on one side or the other.
During that process two years
ago, school board member Geneva
; Brown explained that the black
community was deeply suspicious
of the school system's intentions.
Walter Marshall, a former school
board member, was quoted as
agreeing with Brown.
"I don't know if it's just apathy
" or loss of hope," said Marshall,
who is now a Forsyth county com
missioner. Brown and Marshall
were joined by former school board
member Dale Folwell in voting
against the plan. All three said that
the redistricting plan would segre
gate schools.
If a school system does not
maintain a certain racial balance, it
could be subject to federal investi
gation. Ultimately, that school sys
tem could lose federal funding if it
refused to comply with standards
set in the landmark Brown v. Board
of Education Supreme Court deci
sion. i
While the Winston
Salem/Forsyth County school sys
tem is under federal investigation,
Guilford county school system's
redistricting process is under
intense parental scrutiny. Many
African Americans in Guilford
county followed the redistricting
process in Forsyth, and are not
pleased with the results.
"You all better watch out,
because they're trying to do what
they did in Winston," warned one
parent at a redistricting forum held
last month at Dudley High School
in Greensboro.
The Guilford County
Redistricting Steering Committee, a
60-member panel of parents and
community representatives, held a
series of forums throughout April
to present four "feeder zone" maps.
After assessing feedback, the steer
ing committee decided last week to
hold more forums.
One of the largest turnouts,
Dudley's forum attracted a pre
dominantly black crowd. Several
speakers stood up and said that
they believed the school board had
already made a decision on which
map would be used.
Others wondered why the school
board refused to attend the forums,
as the steering committee could not
answer most of the questions asked
by the audience.
"There's no excuse to send out a
committee like this, to get informa
tion from us, when we can't get any
information from (the school
board)," said Raymond King.
Other speakers said they were
worried that redistricting was a
plan to isolate inner city schools.
They said that grouping lower
income and lower-achieving stu
dents into one zone would set up
schools to fail.
Even members of the redistrict
ing committee seemed not to fully
believe in the process.
"We are limited in our function.
We have been limited on purpose,"
said Gladys Robinson, the NAACP
representative on the committee.
These suspicions were and still
are harbored by many in Forsyth
County. Some vehemently
denounce the local school system's
new redistricting.
"It sucks. I've heard a lot about
it (redistricting), and from what I've
heard, they're resegregating the
schools again," said Andrea Mayes,
a student at Forsyth Technical
Community College. Mayes attend
ed a total of five schools in
Winston-Salem and Fbrsyth
County, from elementary to high
school.
Mayes and classmate Shemika
Lineberger, who also attended local
schools, agreed that the redistrict
ing didn't make sense to them. Both
thought that the school system
should have left zone boundaries
alone.
"When they changed, half the
students were already going to one
school and had to switch into
another. It was a mad situation,"
said Linebeiger.
Some whites were also suspi
cious of the redisricting process. A
white parent Tiled a complaint
against the local school system with
the U.S. Department of
Education's Office for Civil Rights.
That parent felt thl (^districting
plan did not offer enough control,
and would lend to resfegfSgation
(see side bar story).
? Segregation
from page A1
? information and talk to various
school officials about policy," said
OCR press representative Roger
Murphy. OCR officers plan to
visit the Winston-Salem/Forsyth
County Schools soon and investi
gate the complaint first-hand.
"I grew up in this community
and feel pretty strongly that
schools should remain integrat
ed," said Tom Harris, the white
parent who filed the complaint
with the Office for Civil Rights. "I
know what its like to go to an all
white school, and I know what it's
like to go to an integrated school.
"I think there's a better educa
tion in integrated schools," he
added. A native of Winston
Salem, Harris has children at
Speas and Whitaker schools.
Zone I is comprised of five ele
mentary schools in the southeast
section of the county.
During the first year of enroll
ment in that zone, two schools
were over 90 percent Africa*!-.
American, and two others had a
white student population between
70 and 80 percent.
Now, the two predominantly
African-American schools, Diggs
and Forest Park, have even greater
minority populations, as does
Hall-Woodard, which is one-third
Hispanic. Union Cross and Sedge
Garden have lost minority pres
ence in their student populations.
"I don't think a lot of parents
want their children to go to racial
ly isolated schools," said Harris.
Even though each child would
have the option of attending a
school that is predominantly
attended by children of another
race, said Harris, the chances of
most children feeling comfortable
in such a setting is slim.
The primary impetus for redis
tricting came from the white sub
urbs, said Harris. "They were
tired of their children getting
bused to more inner city schools,"
he said. A number of African
American parents have also
protested forced busing; however,
instead of vying for a system of
one-race schools, most black par
ents want the burden of busing to
be equally distributed.
"What will make or break the
case, I think, is particularly how
minority parents feel about the
situation," said Harris.
Perception
from page Al
Overall, about 55 percent of
Family Preservation clients are
referred to the program by county
Departments of Social Services.
Other sources of referrals are the
Division of Mental Health and the
juvenile court system. Occasionally,
families approach the service on
their own.
"Our referrals come from other
sources," said caseworker Judy
Arthofer. "We don't control that."
Coworker Wanda Burney added
that the Department of Social
Services didn't refer as many black
families because that division
served them instead.
"More times than not, they've
already decided to place the child,"
said Burney.
Carol Downey, supervisor of the
Department of Social Services'
Child Protective Services Treatment
Unit, was not available for com
ment at press time Former Child
Protective Services director Brenda
Evans said that she did not feel
qualified to comment on the refer
ral criteria, but said (hat the process
may involve a screening committee.
Another factor for the seeming
ly low number of African
American clients oonM be a lack of
set quotas, Allen explained, and
racial demographies may seem
skewed during some reporting
quarters. For example, from July
1996 to the end of December,
Family Preservation served eight
white families, three African
American and one multi-racial.
Other times, there may be more or
fewer black families.
"We don't make decisions based
on race, we make it based on need,"
said Allen.
Family Preservations full-time
staff consists of Allen, who is white,
two white women, one African
American woman and an African
American man. The staff can spend
as much as 54 hours with a single
family during the intensive program
period, and the case load averages
to about four per worker.
The number of cases has gone
up recently.
"Up until last month, we pretty
much took or responded to every
referral we received," said case
worker Wanda Burney
Currently, the racial composi
tion of the staff's caseload is about
60-40, white to black or biracial
clients.
"The majority of the kids I work
with in Forsyth County are black
r
kids," said caseworker James
Jackson, who occasionally works in
Stokes County as well. Burney's
present clientele are all African
American.
Burney found the rumors of dis
crimination peculiar to the philoso
phy of the program.
"It struck me as funny," said
Burney. "[Race] doesn't matter to
us. If a child is at risk, it doesn't
matter the race." She did comment
that Jackson's role in the program
was critical.
"In terms of black families, he
^Jackson) has certainly been instru
mental," said Burney. "So few of
the kids, of the black males, have
had positive male role models."
Critics of the program do not
seem to take issue with the quality
of the Family Preservation services,
but with how clients are referred to
the program.
The General Assembly signed
the Family Preservation Act into
law in 1991. Ultimately, the legisla
tors' goal is to establish Family
Preservation programs for every
county; as of last year's report,
there were 21 programs servicing 40
counties and the Eastern Band of
Cherokee Indians.
Family Preservation programs
may differ from county to county.
Some programs are under the
umbrella of that county's
Department of Social Services.
Statewide, about 69 percent of
the children served by Family
Preservation Services are white.
Twenty-four percent are African
American, and 4 percent are multi
racial. The remaining 3 percent are
categorized each as Native
American, Hispanic and Other.
The Forsyth/Stohes program is
unique in that it offers a Family
Stabilization component in addi
tion to the Family Preservation pro
gram. Geared toward those families
who need more than six weeks of
services, social workers follow up
on clients after six months to deter
mine the stability of the child and
family unit.
In this component of the pro
gram, there are more African
Americans served, said Allen.
During one quarter, 49 percent of
the clients served by Family
Stabilization were African
American or biracial families.
For the most part, said Burney,
African Americans are still new to
mental health services. "The culture
is, you seek help from inside (the
family unit); you don't go outside,"
she stated.
Triad
from page A1
added. He spoke about the value
of a man with a boy, doing sim
ple things, especially character
building. "Where are our val
ues?" he asked. "What do we
value if we are sitting around
watching and whining as boys ?
our future ? go down the
tubes!"
Hayes told the story of how he
engages his Aggie team to work
with young black boys in
Greensboro and High Point. Said
Doug Thome, field director for
the Old North State Council,
"Our efforts have resulted in a
virtual explosion of new troops
and involvement by men in High
Point and Greensboro who
would otherwise not be active,
except for Bill Hayes."
With an air of animation
more fitting a pregame pep talk,
Hayes appealed to black men to
get involved in scouting. "We
have failed miserably," he said.
"We are sorry role models ... and
we've got to get our boys back."
Kermit Blount, head football
coach at WSSU, was present.
Blount has been recruited by his
former coach ? Hayes ? to do
at WSSU what he said has
worked so well for the benefit of
his players and the young boys
they work with in scouting.
According to Clarence E.
"Bighouse" Gaines, former
WSSU head basketball coach
and chairman of Winston
Salem's Urban Emphasis
Committee, the number of black
boys in scouting is "abysmally
low." He said he'd be willing to
change his name to "Beg-house"
if that would get more black men
involved in order to get more
boys into scouting.
Gaines described the Boy
Scouts of America as the "most
time-honored, effective and
esteemed organization when it
comes to making productive citi
zens and men of boys." Gaines is
one of the local council's most
ardent supporters, having been
awarded the Silver Buffalo
medal, scouting's highest honor
given for those who serve youth.
Randall, one of the top-rank
ing African Americans in scout
ing, underscored the critical
importance of black churches
and scouting. His role ? he was
freshly returned from the
President's Summit for
American's Future held in
Philadelphia ? was to build on
Gaines' and Hunter's relation
ships with community leaders
and organizations. He illustrated
how "scouting has been replaced
by gang-banging." He noted, "It
takes $300 to train and equip a
scout, but it takes $30,000 to
train and support an inmate!"
However, it was Bill Hayes ?
who lives in Winston-Salem ?
who made the most emotional
and effective appeals. "Scouting
did not abandon the black com
munity, the black community ?
black men ? abandoned scout
ing." Referring to statistics on
black female-headed households
in the Triad, Hayes noted, "The
Boy Scouts of American has the
same problem as many black
women: Can't find no men!"
Ray McAlister, a retired exec
utive of the N.C. Department of
Corrections, outlined what has
been done in High Point, while
praising the efforts of Hunter.
"Traci needs you men in
Winston," he said. "She is going
into the projects and doing a
i ??wmt
great job; but, she needs more of
you men in Winston-Saiem to
help her!"
In Winston-Salem, the black
churches that support scouting
? in addition to Mount Zion ?
include St. Stephens, United
Metropolitan, Shiloh Baptist,
First Waughtown Baptist,
Exodus Baptist and Zion Hill
Baptist. Hunter said she wants to
hear from church leaders and lay
persons. She can be reached at
760-2900.
amiMBHsnsn
THANK YOU
Mrs. Naomi Cassaberry and family ivishes to thank
everyone for their acknowledge and cards and acts of
kindness during the death of
Norman D. Cassaberry in Bronx, New York.
E*_
wtcs
Winstoti-SakaWfforaytl Cm^l?vHfcH|
Public Mertluf
?<j .r
about * f
/> V
\ ? ?
Guidelines for Student Discipline
Thursday, May 8,1997
7:00 p.m.
Administrative Center Auditorium
1605 Miller Street
For more information, call 727-2695