Heather Mace opinion: Making a difficult — but just — decision

I just read an article that I’ve been anticipating — and dreading — for nearly a decade.

The piece, written by journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones, is titled “In Fighting for Every Black Child, Did I Betray My Own?” It’s a thoughtful follow-up to an article she wrote 10 years earlier about choosing a school for her kindergartener.

In that initial piece, Hannah-Jones explains that while school segregation grows from structural and political decisions, individual parents’ choices are what uphold that system. That’s why, instead of sequestering her child in a wealthy, mostly-white elementary school, Hannah-Jones enrolled her daughter in a low-income, majority-Black neighborhood school. She and her husband hoped to use their knowledge and influence to advocate not only for their child, but for her classmates, as well.

I first read this article when my middle child was just 4 years old, and my husband and I were contemplating whether to send him to our neighborhood school. The quaint brick building served around 300 students, 86% of whom were Hispanic, and most students qualified for free or reduced-price lunch. The school had received a grade of “D” from the state due to low test scores, and over half the teachers had fewer than three years’ experience.

Although our neighborhood included families of various races and income levels, few white neighbors sent their children to the school. As a result, eventually the district stopped funding the site’s International Baccalaureate program, which had been implemented specifically to encourage desegregation.

Even so, we were drawn to this school. We respected our neighbors who had attended here for generations, and felt a duty to support the community school where we had chosen to put down roots. While Hannah-Jones’ writing influenced my thinking, there were key factors that set our experiences apart. For one, downtown New York City schools look quite different than those in central Tucson.

Also, my husband taught at our neighborhood school, meaning we had a closer view of our child’s education than most families. But perhaps most significantly, Hannah-Jones is Black, which means she was gambling on a system that has failed children who look like hers for centuries. As a white family, we hoped our presence might help chip away at the segregation that has allowed those failures to persist for so long.

In the end, both my son and his little sister completed their elementary education at this school down the block. They had some incredible teachers and experiences, but it wasn’t all smooth sailing. That’s why, when reading Hannah-Jones’ newest article, I felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. If she worries that she made the wrong decision for her child, should we worry too?

The answer to that question popped up sooner than expected, and in a fitting location: a public school gymnasium. Last weekend, chairs thudded on hardwood floors as my husband and I settled in for a TUSD forum about potential school closures. In small groups, we were asked to describe the needs and priorities of the students in our community. Suddenly, the experiences from our neighborhood school came pouring out. We described how a lack of consistent funding meant students often received art or music education one year but lost it the next. We shared that when after-school care was cut at our site, many young children, including ours, became latchkey kids overnight. We explained that despite the importance of physical education, our school risked losing its PE teacher unless he spent half his day teaching reading.

While providing these insights was important, what really mattered was that we had been present at the school to tackle these problems as they arose. By having a front-row seat to the school’s inner workings, we could address issues like large class sizes, low test scores and a revolving door of principals in real time. As a result, we initiated changes more effectively than we ever could have from outside the school’s walls. We had both a window into the needs of our community’s children and a direct line to advocate for them.

Like Hannah-Jones, I may never know for certain if sending our children to a segregated, underperforming neighborhood school was the correct choice. But to paraphrase her wise words, while I may always wonder whether we made the right decision, I know we made the just one.