Dream Deferred

LANGSTON HUGHES (1902-1967)

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--

and then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over--

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load

Or does it just explode?

When I was growing up in Sumter, South Carolina, I had some big dreams and little hope they could ever be fulfilled in my native state.  But when the U.S. Supreme Court issued its landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision ending segregation, two months before my 14^th birthday, I felt sure that the daily prayers of my parents had been answered, that a monumental change was taking place in our country.  I can still feel the wave of elation that overcame my friends and neighbors when we heard the news the Supreme Court had ruled that “separate could never be equal.”  Our emotions soaring higher than most because of our close proximity to Clarendon County and familiarity with the brave men and women who started the movement and filed the first desegregation lawsuit, Briggs v. Elliott, that later became part of Brown.  This was a national victory, a local victory, and a very personal victory.  Could this be the realization of our dreams?

Today, 50 years later, those expectations have turned into bitter disappointment and frustration for too many who continue to see their dreams deferred.  The hope of that momentous day has given way to broken promises and systemic stonewalling.  My heart breaks when I step into today’s Scott’s Branch High School in Summerton, the school which was the focus of Briggs v. Elliott, and know that the only difference between this school and its 50-year-old predecessor is brick and mortar and climate control.  The student body remains nearly all black and their educational attainment lags behind state and national averages.  In short, still separate, still unequal.

Summerton is just one example of South Carolina’s failure to fully achieve the promise of Brown.  Just across Lake Marion, Calhoun County is still struggling as well.  The U.S. Justice Department has intervened because the county’s school district violated a long-standing desegregation order brought about by the Brown decision.  The county school district constructed a school in a predominantly white portion of the county creating two separate schools -- one serving a mostly black student body, the other mostly white.  The Justice Department blew the whistle and the end result is racial polarization again over the issue of separate and unequal schools. 

These are not isolated instances.   Eight rural school districts are currently suing the State of South Carolina in a Clarendon County courtroom to seeking equitable education funding. These districts serve predominantly black student populations and in a sad turn of events, our State is spending millions of dollars fighting its obligation to provide “minimally adequate” education to all students.  And these ironies are not confined to South Carolina.  A judge in - of all places - Topeka, Kansas, recently declared that school district’s funding of schools unconstitutional. 

So today when I celebrate the 50^th Anniversary of the Brown v. Board of Education decision, I  will pause to honor the sacrifices of those who had the courage to fight for a better future for their children and future generations.  I will think back to that 13-year-old boy who today has exceeded his own expectations but has yet to measure up to the sacrifices of Levi Pearson, Harry and Eliza Briggs and the multitude of ordinary people who made extraordinary sacrifices on his behalf.  And, I will redouble my efforts seeking the fulfillment their dreams that are still being deferred. 

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