PART 2:
At a June 30 school board
meeting, five days after Harrison announced his resignation, several residents said they hoped the district would change course on anti-racism efforts.
One resident said he hoped the next superintendent “will steer our kids away from the fringes of ideology.” Dana Benson, one of the residents running Save Our Schools and a
local Republican
donor, said that without the assumptions of critical race theory, there would be no need for the district’s diversity and equity plans.
A local activist group sent mailers to residents of Easton and Redding urging people to complain about Rydell Harrison, the school superintendent, over a Facebook post he had written.Ron Antonelli / for NBC News
Heather Whaley, a school board member and chair of the diversity and equity task force, reminded her colleagues that the efforts to combat discrimination predated Harrison.
"Dr. Harrison came to a district that was looking to do that work, and look at how he was treated," she said, apologizing to Harrison for the attacks he’d weathered.
Harrison hopes his departure is not seen as him giving in to his critics. He will leave his post in September and go to work for the Connecticut Center for School Change, a nonprofit education consultant organization, where he’ll advise schools on diversity and equity policies.
“I’m ready to be engaged in the next level of work, to keep this going and stay in the fray,” he said.
He’s far from the only superintendent to face such animosity.
AASA, the professional organization of school superintendents, received so many calls from administrators asking for help that it started hosting virtual sessions for superintendents to discuss how they were handling the anti-critical race theory protests, said Daniel Domenech, the association’s executive director.
According to Domenech, some superintendents described how the stress carried over into their personal lives, causing them to lash out at family members. In several cases, school boards threatened to fire superintendents if they didn’t eliminate diversity and equity initiatives, he said.
"I've seen some tough times in my years as a superintendent but nothing like what these people have gone through this year and probably will continue to next school year,” said Domenech, who was superintendent of the school district in Fairfax County, Virginia, during the 2002
Beltway snipers attacks and the terrorism of 9/11.
Though most school districts, such as Jefferson County Public Schools in Kentucky, insist they have no plans to use critical race theory, parents have swarmed board meetings to protest the academic concept. David R. Lutman / Courier-Journal via USA Today Network
The local backlash to addressing race in schools has been fueled in part by national conservative groups and activists, who see the anti-critical race theory fights as a winning political issue and have helped parents mobilize. As more parents confronted administrators over diversity and equity initiatives over the past year, their activism has been highlighted by conservative media, amplifying the pressure on districts.
“A single school district can’t combat a national propaganda machine that’s intent on pushing a particular narrative and driving wedges in communities,” said Tracey Benson, associate executive director of the Arizona School Boards Association.
Hoping to avoid upset parents coming to board meetings, some districts have not only scrutinized instructional materials, they’ve also curtailed student speech.
"A single school district can’t combat a national propaganda machine that’s intent on pushing a particular narrative and driving wedges in communities."
Tracey Benson, Arizona School Boards Association
After a student-designed yearbook cover in Texas included the words “science is real, Black lives matter, no human is illegal, love is love,” the school district placed an
art teacher on leave over parent complaints. A district in New York
censored a presentation about racial justice created by a group of eighth graders. A Florida school district temporarily
halted the sale of a student-produced yearbook because it discussed the Black Lives Matter movement, but did not mention the pro-police “Blue lives matter” slogan.
Rita Kohli, an education professor at the University of California, Riverside who studies the racial climate in schools, said schools need to trust children to be independent thinkers.
“I don’t think schools should ever be indoctrinating kids,” she said, “but what are we saying about schools if we say any time they bring in a touchy subject it’s indoctrination? What are they doing the rest of the time?”
One stayed, one resigned
Brittany Hogan became the diversity coordinator for the Rockwood School District, in the suburbs of St. Louis, last year. She was the only Black woman in the mostly white district’s administration, which could be isolating at times, she said. But she also felt she had a critical role to play for students of color.
“For a lot of Black students, the only time they see a reflection of themselves is when they see me,” she said.
St. Louis County has the largest and longest-running school
desegregation program in the country, which Hogan oversaw, busing students from the city to the predominately white suburban schools. Rockwood, where 75 percent of students are white, enrolls 1,400 children from St. Louis.
Threats against diversity coordinator Brittany Hogan were so severe that the Rockwood School District hired security to patrol her house.Curtis Brennecke for Rockwood Schools
Shortly after last fall’s election, Hogan said, she started receiving letters from parents who did not approve of diversity initiatives and a districtwide reading program that included books by Black authors. One woman called her to say her work was “ungodly” and that she would pray for her, Hogan said.
Emails to administrators obtained by NBC News through a public records request show community members began to dig up Hogan’s old tweets, claiming she made comments that were racist against white people. In one tweet that parents repeatedly cited, Hogan wrote “new podcast alert” with a screenshot for “Nice White Parents,” a series produced by The New York Times that examines efforts to address inequality in Brooklyn schools. Parents inaccurately claimed in emails to administrators and school board members that Hogan had tweeted that “the problem in public schools is white parents” and that she was “blaming white people.”
Things escalated in March when the superintendent announced his decision to bar “thin blue line” symbols — which are black, white and blue variations of the American flag meant to support police — from baseball uniforms. Though Hogan had no involvement in the decision, she began receiving threats a day later. By the end of the week, the district had hired security to patrol her house and that of Terry Harris, another Black administrator in Rockwood who received threats. Hogan became too scared to come to the district office for work.
“While I was in a position of power, I was the lowest on the totem pole in terms of societal power, being a Black woman,” she said. “I was an easy target in the face of race and racism.”
Harris, Rockwood’s director of student services, was also growing concerned. On social media, people posted pictures of him with his teenage daughter and called him the “most racist person” they’d ever met. He changed his work schedule in response to the threats. Emails show he repeatedly offered to arrange a phone call or in-person meeting with parents to address their concerns, which he hoped would ease their anxiety, but parents insisted he answer their questions about diversity and equity initiatives in writing.
“We know what this story is about,” Harris said. “It’s about talking about race, and we are the two highest-ranking Black people in the district.”
He considered leaving his job to spare his family from the harassment, but he said he decided against it after conversations with a school board member, his mentor and his wife.
“Critical race theory is going to go away, but you know something is going to replace critical race theory and whatever does replace it is going to be race-related,” he said. “You get to a point where you are not afraid anymore.”
For Hogan, the toll of the harassment was too much. She submitted her resignation letter in April. It was a difficult decision, she said, because she loved the work.
“One of the biggest joys I have is being an educator,” said Hogan, who plans to work in the nonprofit sector. “But the job didn't seem worth my emotional and physical safety. Mentally, it was disrupting my inner peace, the stress of it.”
It’s a stark contrast from last summer, when Hogan believed people were ready to have “real conversations about race and equity and how those things were impacting all of us in this country.”
“I feel like we’re never as far as we think,” she said.