Great book about Boston busing crisis, housing, race, education, politics, etc etc
“What good is a great private college unless it serves a great national purpose?"
"Colin and David could no longer accept that traditional notion, but neither could they endorse the radicals’ concept of the law as a hammer to smash the barricades of vested interest. Slowly, they came to view it as a lever with which to pry up the mossy rocks of privilege, bringing air and light to the teeming precincts beneath."
“The committee found that half of the city’s black students—some 10,400—attended twenty-eight schools which were at least 80 percent black. Sixteen schools in the heart of the black community were over 96 percent black. “Racial imbalance,” the committee concluded, “represents a serious conflict with the American creed of equal opportunity. ”
“The constituency for change was larger than that. In June, Governor John Volpe introduced a bill empowering the State Board of Education to withhold state funds from any local school system that had not adopted an acceptable plan for eliminating imbalance. Although Boston’s representatives howled with rage, the suburban and rural majority found the bill unobjectionable. (Its principal backers were Father Robert Drinan, a Newton resident, then dean of the Boston College Law School; Beryl Cohen, a Brookline legislator; and the Yankee lieutenant governor, Elliot Richardson.) For by defining imbalance as more than 50 percent black, the state committee had taken the onus off all but three of Massachusetts’ largest cities—Boston, Springfield, and Cambridge. There were simply no other communities with enough blacks to qualify. The committee conveniently ignored the question of whether 100 percent white schools in Brookline, Newton, Wellesley, and other suburbs within a short bus ride of the Roxbury ghetto were also imbalanced.
This, of course, was the formula for any successful civil rights legislation. The national Civil Rights Acts of 1957, 1960, 1964, and 1965 had all been imposed by Northern and Western majorities on Southern communities. Veteran lobbyists had long since deduced the applicable maxim: the probability of support for such legislation is inversely related to the proximity of its potential application.”
“The School Committee continued to insist that such racial separation was due entirely to residential segregation, combined with the tradition of “the neighborhood school.” In fact, Boston had long since abandoned the neighborhood as an organizing principle for attendance at the middle and high school levels. Students shuttled around the city, following elaborate “feeder patterns.” Even at the elementary level, where children generally attended schools close to home, they frequently had a choice of two or more schools and often didn’t attend the nearest. As the School Committee fought the Racial Imbalance Act, it manipulated this Byzantine system in such a way as to keep blacks and whites separate. The few new schools or annexes built during this period were clearly located so as to be either heavily white or heavily black. Graduates of predominantly white lower schools were given preference at white high schools; students from heavily black schools were guaranteed seats at heavily black high schools. Even the “open enrollment” program, under which students could transfer to schools with vacant seats, aggravated segregation by permitting whites to escape predominantly black schools.”
“Meanwhile, the Town watched yet another of its traditional employment sources dry up. Since the turn of the century, when the Irish seized control of Boston’s City Hall, they had cornered a disproportionate share of municipal jobs, notably in the Police, Fire, and Public Works departments; nearly every Charlestown family had someone serving in at least one of those bailiwicks. But through the sixties and early seventies a series of legal challenges shook such ethnic monopolies. In 1971, U.S. District Judge Charles Wyzanski ruled in the first of those suits, holding that entrance exams for Boston’s Police Department gave whites a “discriminatory advantage,” and ordered the department to correct such practices and hire fifty-three minority applicants who had failed the last exam. Over the next few years, other federal judges issued similar orders to Boston’s Fire and Public Works departments. Soon all three services launched “affirmative action” programs designed to give preference to qualified black and Hispanic applicants. The numbers involved were comparatively small, but Charlestown’s Irish fervently believed that jobs which had once been theirs by birthright would now go to dark-skinned interlopers across the city.”
“The South End had been called “a nursery of democracy,” because, in succession, Yankees, Irish, Italians, Greeks, Syrians, Lebanese, Chinese, Russian and German Jews, blacks, and Hispanics had learned there the ways of urban America.”
“Like many 221 (d) 3 projects across the country, Methunion had been in financial trouble long before it accepted its first tenant, for its rents had been determined less on economic than on political grounds. Under heavy pressure from South End community groups, the Mayor and the BRA desperately needed housing which would be perceived as replacements for the demolished units. In setting rents for these projects, HUD had shown little concern for the project’s financial viability. And Gil Caldwell had his own agenda: the church’s search for credibility with inner-city blacks. Eager to build, Union had allowed itself to underestimate Methunion’s operating costs to ensure that the FHA would approve its mortgage application. And, of course, the FHA—which shared HUD’s emphasis on housing production—could be counted on not to scrutinize the figures too closely. For there was a tacit understanding among all parties that the first priority was to get the buildings up and occupied; then, if expenses outran revenues, an appeal could be made to the nation’s conscience, and the federal government would presumably ride to the rescue, as it had so often in the sixties.”
“Tocqueville recognized that Americans had not one but two political systems: “the one fulfilling the ordinary duties and responding to the daily and infinite calls of a community; the other circumscribed within certain limits and exercising an exceptional authority over the general interests of the country.” For seventy years this delicate balance prevailed, reassuring Americans that the demands of nationalism were compatible with the intimacies of community.”
“But there was more to it than that. Traditional liberals, he decided, had exaggerated the importance of ideas. Four years earlier, Colin himself had thought that all City Hall needed was bright, innovative, creative ideas. Now he felt that the most important job in government was implementing ideas. Of course, if issues abstracted from management made no sense, then neither did management abstracted from issues. But there were plenty of people around just bursting with ideas, and not that many who could make them work.”
“In the South, the white man doesn’t care how close you get if you don’t get too high; in the North, the white man doesn’t care how high you get if you don’t get too close. ”
“Racial imbalance in Boston’s schools, they contended, was neither fortuitous nor innocent; it had been reinforced and maintained over the years by a whole host of techniques devised by the Boston School Committee: optional attendance zones, manipulated district lines, differential grade structures, open enrollment, feeder patterns, site selection policies, portable classrooms, and various pupil assignment practices.”
“But that was what liberals were like, she had come to understand; it was easy to be a liberal about other people’s problems. Maybe that was why all the problems were in the city and all the liberals in the suburbs.”
"Though wages were lower there than in the mid-Atlantic cities, there was something about Boston that drew Southern Negroes. It was from Boston that the abolitionists had issued their calls for a holy war against slavery. It was there that many blacks fled in the underground railway, relying on Bostonians to forward them to Canada. It was to Boston that David Walker, a North Carolina Negro, fled in 1825, and there that he issued his fiery pamphlet Walker’s Appeal (“Brethren, arise, arise! Strike for your lives and liberties!”), which was widely distributed in Georgia.
The image of Boston as a sanctuary was encouraged by black writers who, over the years, described it as “a city of refuge, a place of light, life, and liberty,” the one place in America “where the black man is given equal justice,” and even, euphorically, “the Paradise of the Negro.”
"In comparison with the Southern colonies, there were never many slaves in Massachusetts, partly because the harsh climate and stony soil did not permit a plantation agriculture requiring numerous field hands. Yet, by the eve of the Revolution, 5,249 Negroes, most of them slaves, were counted in the colony...Still, Massachusetts’ brand of slavery was distinctive, probably more benign than in any other colony. Following the Hebraic tradition passed down through the Old Testament, the Puritans regarded slaves as persons divinely committed to their stewardship. Usually referred to as “servants” rather than slaves, they were often treated as members of the family in which they lived."
"Since salvation required a knowledge of the Bible, many masters even taught their slaves to read and write. The legal status of slaves in New England was somewhere between that of Southern plantation slaves and that of indentured servants. They could acquire, hold, and transfer property; they were entitled to a trial by jury. Most important, they could sue whites and could carry their suits on appeal to the highest courts in the colony."
"By the mid-eighteenth century, slaves were taking advantage of that right, bringing civil suits for their freedom, arguing that slavery was “contrary to ye laws of Nature.” Such entreaties eventually reached the Puritan conscience. Like Virginians, many Massachusetts citizens perceived the contradictions between their own struggle against Britain and their enslavement of others. Abigail Adams, in a letter to her husband, John, wrote: “It always appeared a most iniquitous scheme to me to fight ourselves for what we are daily robbing and plundering from those who have as good a right to freedom as we have.”"
"Once the colonies won their independence, the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention adopted a Declaration of Rights, holding that “all men are born free and equal.” But slavery persisted. Not until 1783 did the state’s chief justice declare it unconstitutional."
"In 1849, a black parent, Benjamin Roberts, brought suit against the city in the name of his daughter Sarah, seeking reintegration of the schools. Arguing Roberts’ case before the Supreme Judicial Court, Charles Sumner said: “[A] school, exclusively devoted to one class, must differ essentially, in its spirit and character, from the public school known to the law, where all classes meet together in equality. It is a mockery to call it an equivalent.” But Chief Justice Lemuel Shaw disagreed, ruling that the segregated schools did not deny Negroes equal protection of the law.
Justice Shaw’s ruling—the “separate-but-equal doctrine”—was to have a profound effect on the nation’s history. The Roberts case was the chief precedent cited by the Supreme Court when it enshrined that doctrine in Plessy v. Ferguson (1896) and, thus, the genesis of the legal principle which was to govern the country’s race relations until 1954."
In 1855, the Massachusetts legislature passed a bill prohibiting segregated schools
"To Boston-born blacks, the lesson was clear: the newcomers—soon dubbed “Homies,” from “down home”—were dragging them under, destroying their “special relationship” with whites."
"This chronic fragmentation enfeebled the community, but there were other sources of weakness. The vaunted “special relationship” between the races—though short-lived and much exaggerated—seduced Negroes from the development of strong black institutions which might have created a substantial middle class (for years, Boston’s largest black business was Chisolm’s Funeral Home). Then there was the community’s size: throughout the nineteenth century blacks never exceeded 2 percent of the city, and even by 1970 they had reached only 16.3 percent, compared with Washington’s 71 percent or Detroit’s 43 percent. Boston blacks lacked the critical mass necessary for effective political or social action. This became particularly important in 1949, when the City Charter was amended to replace ward-based elections with an at-large system. With the black community unable to muster enough votes citywide, only one Negro—Tom Atkins—was elected to the City Council over the next quarter century. Finally, the community had no historic center to provide a sense of continuity and cohesion. Boston Negroes have always lived in segregated space, but that space has shifted steadily from north to south. There has never been a place where Boston’s blacks could say with certainty, “This is what we are, this is where we make our stand.”"
"Four years with Kevin White and two with Frank Sargent had taught him that ideas alone were virtually useless, that government couldn’t define people’s needs for them, that “solutions” worked only if they were perceived as such by a substantial constituency and implemented by skilled managers. Moreover, unless such programs were shrewdly calculated, they were often ineffective, even counterproductive, producing consequences quite opposite from those the reformers had intended."