The Brown v. Board of Education case didn’t start how you think it did

The Brown v. Board of Education case didn’t start how you think it did

Thurgood Marshall outside the Supreme Court in Washington in 1958. Marshall, the head of the NAACP’s legal arm who argued part of the case, went on to become the Supreme Court’s first African-American justice.AP

As the nation celebrates the 65th anniversary of the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case, the case is often recalled as one that “forever changed the course of American history.”

But the story behind the historic Supreme Court case, as I plan to show in my forthcoming book, “Blacks Against Brown: The Black Anti-Integration Movement in Topeka, Kansas, 1941-1954,” is much more complex than the highly inaccurate but often-repeated tale about how the lawsuit began. The story that often gets told is that – as recounted in this news story – the case began with Oliver Brown, who tried to enroll his daughter, Linda, at the Sumner School, an all-white elementary school in Topeka near the Browns’ home. Or that Oliver Brown was a “determined father who took Linda Brown by the hand and made history.”

As my research shows, that tale is at odds with two great historical ironies of Brown v. Board. The first irony is that Oliver Brown was actually a reluctant participant in the Supreme Court case that would come to be named after him. In fact, Oliver Brown, a reserved man, had to be convinced to sign on to the lawsuit because he was a new pastor at church that did not want to get involved in Topeka NAACP’s desegregation lawsuit, according to various Topekans whose recollections are recorded in the Brown Oral History Collection at the Kansas State Historical Society.

The second irony is that, of the five local desegregation cases brought before the Supreme Court by the NAACP Legal Defense Fund in 1953, Brown’s case – formally known as Oliver Brown et al., v. Board of Education of Topeka, et al. – ended up bringing widespread attention to a city where many blacks actually resisted school integration. That not-so-small detail has been overshadowed by the way the case is presented in history.

Black resistance to integration

While school desegregation may have symbolized racial progress for many blacks throughout the country, that simply was not the case in Topeka. In fact, most of the resistance to the NAACP’s school desegregation efforts in Topeka came from Topeka’s black citizens, not whites.

“I didn’t get anything from white folks,” Leola Brown Montgomery, wife of Oliver and mother of Linda, recalled. “I tell you here in Topeka, unlike the other places where they brought these cases we didn’t have any threats” from whites.

Prior to the Brown case, black Topekans had been embroiled in a decade-long conflict over segregated schools that began with a lawsuit involving Topeka’s junior high schools. When the Topeka School Board commissioned a poll to determine black support for integrated junior high schools in 1941, 65 percent of black parents with junior high school students indicated that they preferred all-black schools, according to school board minutes.

Separate but equal

Another wrinkle to the story is that the city’s four all-black elementary schools – Buchanan, McKinley, Monroe and Washington – had resources, facilities and curricula that were comparable to that of Topeka’s white schools. The Topeka school board actually adhered to the “separate-but-equal” standard established by the 1896 Plessy v. Ferguson case.

Even Linda Brown recalled the all-black Monroe Elementary School that she attended as a “very nice facility, being very well-kept.”

Linda Brown Smith, shown at age 9 in 1952.AP

“I remember the materials that we used being of good quality,” Linda Brown stated in a 1985 interview.

That made the Topeka lawsuit unique among the cases the NAACP Legal Defense Fund combined and argued before the Supreme Court in 1953. Black schoolchildren in Topeka did not experience overcrowded classrooms like those in Washington, D.C., nor were they subjected to dilapidated school buildings like those in Delaware or Virginia.

While black parents in Delaware and South Carolina petitioned their local school boards for bus service, the Topeka School Board voluntarily provided buses for black children. Topeka’s school buses became central to the local NAACP’s equal access complaint due to weather and travel conditions.

Quality education was “not the issue at that time,” Linda Brown recalled, “but it was the distance that I had to go to acquire that education.”

Another unique characteristic of Topeka public schools was that black students went to both all-black elementary and predominantly white junior high and high schools. This fact presented another challenge for the Topeka NAACP’s desegregation crusade. The transition from segregated elementary schools to integrated junior and senior high schools was a harsh and alienating one. Many black Topekans recalled the overt and covert racism of white teachers and administrators. “It wasn’t the grade schools that sunk me,” Richard Ridley, a black resident and Topeka High School alumnus who graduated in 1947, told interviewers for the Brown Oral History Collection at the Kansas State Historical Society. “It was the high school.”

Black teachers cherished

A primary reason that black Topekans fought the local NAACP’s desegregation efforts is because they appreciated black educators’ dedication to their students. Black residents who opposed school integration often spoke of the familial environment in all-black schools.

Linda Brown herself praised the teachers at her alma mater, Monroe Elementary, for having high expectations and setting “very good examples for their students.

Black teachers proved to be a formidable force against the local NAACP. “We have a situation here in Topeka in which the Negro Teachers are violently opposed to our efforts to integrate the public schools,” NAACP branch Secretary Lucinda Todd wrote in a letter to the national NAACP in 1953.

Black supporters of all-black schools used a number of overt and covert tactics to undermine NAACP members’ efforts. Those tactics included lobbying, networking, social ostracism, verbal threats, vandalism, sending harassing mail, making intimidating phone calls, the Brown Oral History Collection reveals.

But the national office of the NAACP never appreciated the unique challenges that its local chapter faced. The Topeka NAACP struggled to recruit plaintiffs, despite their door-to-door canvassing.

Fundraising was also a major problem. The group could not afford the legal services of their attorneys and raised only $100 of the $5,000 needed to bring the case before the U.S. Supreme Court.

Unheralded legacy

History ultimately would not be on the side of the majority of Topeka’s black community. A small cohort of local NAACP members kept pushing for desegregation, even as they stood at odds with most black Topekans.

Linda Brown and her father may be remembered as the faces of Brown v. Board of Education. But without the resilience and resourcefulness of three local NAACP members – namely, Daniel Sawyer, McKinley Burnett and Lucinda Todd – there would have been no Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka.

The real story of Brown v. Board may not capture the public imagination like that of a 9-year-old girl who “brought a case that ended segregation in public schools in America.” Nevertheless, it is the truth behind the myth. And it deserves to be told.

Editor’s Note: An earlier version of this story appeared in The Conversation on March 30, 2018.The Conversation

Charise Cheney, Associate Professsor of Ethnic Studies, University of Oregon

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

NEWS RELEASE: AFRICOBRA: Nation Time at historic Biennale Arte 2019 in Venice

NEWS RELEASE: AFRICOBRA: Nation Time at historic Biennale Arte 2019 in Venice

 

 

 

 

 

Chicago-based curator and Threewalls Executive Director Jeffreen M. Hayes’ exhibition AFRICOBRA: Nation Time has been selected as an official Collateral Event of the historic Biennale Arte 2019 in Venice (May 11 – November 24, 2019). The exhibition, which heralds the eponymous collective of young Black artists working in 1960’s Chicago, debuted at the Museum of Contemporary Art North Miami in December of 2018, and will be on view in Venice (Ca’ Faccanon, San Marco, 5016 [Poste Centrali]) through the duration of the Biennale Arte 2019 from May 11 – November 24. Hayes’ recent independent curatorial work includes participating in a panel on disrupting systems at the 13th Havana Biennial (April 12 – May 12, 2019), and the curation of Augusta Savage: Renaissance Woman, an exhibition on view at the Cummer Museum in Jacksonville, Florida through April 7, 2019.

“The opportunity to bring the work of the AFRICOBRA collective to this historic and global stage is an honor I do not take lightly,” said Hayes. “Bringing forward the histories and cultural significances of artists from the African Diaspora is a personal mission, and recognition of this mission from art institutions worldwide is an incredible step for each artist whose story will finally be told.”

Image of Jeffreen Hayes by Milo Bosh

AFRICOBRA: Nation Time’s exhibition at Biennale Arte 2019, presented by bardoLA, is the first time the work of this vital, definitive and historic Black Arts collective has been celebrated by global audiences on this scale. Hayes features more than 40 works by members of the collective, along with historic documentation and archival photographs in this large-scale exhibition. AFRICOBRA was founded on the South Side of Chicago in 1968 by a collective of young Black artists, whose interest in Transnational Black Aesthetics led them to create one of the most distinctive visual voices in 20th-century American art. The key characteristics to what we now consider the classic AFRICOBRA look—vibrant, “cool-ade” colors, bold text, shine and positive images of Black people —were essential to everyday life in the community from which this movement emerged. The five AFRICOBRA founders—Jeff Donaldson, Wadsworth Jarrell, Jae Jarrell, Barbara Jones-Hogu and Gerald Williams—understood the potential power visual art has to communicate deep meaning on multiple registers. Their collective impact helped establish the visual voice of the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 70s. The exhibition debuted in December of 2018 at Museum of Contemporary Art North Miami. For more information on Biennale Arte 2019 Collateral Events, click here.
In addition to the upcoming inclusion in the Biennale Arte 2019, Hayes’ recent independent curatorial projects include speaking in a panel during the 13th Havana Biennial, which takes place April 12 – May 12, 2019. In the conversation, titled Curating In and Out of the Institutional Frame, Hayes will share her strategies for presenting curatorial work with different types of art institutions while expanding the art historical narrative and dismantling systemic exclusion of artists of the African Diaspora. The panel will be in conversation with Mark Scala, Chief Curator at the Frist Art Museum; Grace Aneiza Ali, Assistant Professor at Tisch School of the Arts, New York University; and independent curator Helga Montalván. The panel will take place on April 16 at 10 am in Matanzas.
Another significant exhibition curated by Hayes, Augusta Savage: Renaissance Woman, is currently on view at the Cummer Museum in Jacksonville, Florida through April 7, 2019. The exhibition reassesses artist Augusta Savage’s contributions to art and cultural history through the lens of the artist-activist. Savage (1892-1962) overcame poverty, racism and sexual discrimination to become one of the most influential American artists of the 20th century, playing a pivotal role in the development of some of this country’s most celebrated artists, including William Artis, Romare Bearden, Gwendolyn Bennett, Robert Blackburn, Gwendolyn Knight, Jacob Lawrence and Norman Lewis. Hayes brings together nearly 80 works from 21 national public and private lenders, presenting Savage’s small- and medium-size sculptures in bronze and other media alongside works by artists she mentored. The exhibition will travel nationally to the New-York Historical Society, the Palmer Museum of Art at Pennsylvania State University and the Dixon Gallery & Gardens (Memphis). For more information on the exhibition, click here.
About Jeffreen Hayes
Curator Jeffreen M. Hayes earned a Ph.D. in American Studies from the College of William and Mary, a Master of Arts in Art History from Howard University, and a Bachelor of Arts in Humanities from Florida International University. She is currently the Executive Director of Threewalls in Chicago and has previously worked at the Birmingham Museum of Art, Hampton University Art Museum, the Library of Congress and the National Gallery of Art. Her curatorial projects include “Intimate Interiors” (2012), “Etched in Collective History” (2013), “SILOS” (2016), “Augusta Savage: Renaissance Woman” (2018), and “Process” (2019). She was a guest curator for Artpace San Antonio’s International Artist in Residence Program from May–August 2018. She is also a TEDx speaker and spoke about “Arts Activism in Simple Steps” in Fall 2018.
About Threewalls
Threewalls was founded in 2003 to provide support and visibility for the visual arts community in Chicago. The founders wanted to encourage a greater awareness of Chicago’s art scene by inviting emerging professional artists to share in the city’s rich histories, resources and creative communities. Over the past fifteen years, Threewalls has been a center for artist-focused programming, critical writing, and direct support for artist projects. Threewalls hosts artists interested in working in and with diverse Chicago communities through their RaD Lab program; supports interactive work by local and regional artists in Outside the Walls; and programs salons to generate open dialogue, the presentation of new ideas and the publication of new writing. Threewalls partners with other organizations on exhibitions, publications, and education programs in an effort to broaden and contribute to the contemporary visual arts. For more information about Threewalls, visit three-walls.org/.
Christian Healthcare Ministry Scams?

Christian Healthcare Ministry Scams?

Sheri Lewis, 59, of Seattle, needed a hip transplant. Bradley Fuller, 63, of nearby Kirkland, needed chemotherapy and radiation when the pain in his jaw turned out to be throat cancer. And Kim Bruzas, 55, of Waitsburg, hundreds of miles away, needed emergency care to stop sudden —and severe — rectal bleeding.

Each of these Washington state residents required medical treatment during the past few years, and each thought they had purchased health insurance through an online site.

But when it was time to pay the bills, they learned that the products they bought through Aliera Healthcare Inc. weren’t insurance at all — and that the cost of their care wasn’t covered.

Lewis and the others had enrolled in what Aliera officials claimed was a health care sharing ministry (HCSM) — faith-based co-ops in which members agree to pay one another’s medical bills.

But Washington insurance officials this week said the firm doesn’t meet the definition of a sharing ministry and described Aliera’s products as a “sham” aimed at misleading consumers. Other states, including Texas and New Hampshire, are poised to take similar action.

Insurance Commissioner Mike Kreidler on Monday ordered Aliera, which operates Trinity Healthshare Inc., both of Delaware, to halt operations in Washington, alleging the firm was selling health insurance illegally and engaging in deceptive business practices.

Aliera falsely represented itself as a sharing ministry, which would be exempt from insurance regulations, an investigation found. Though he wouldn’t name them, Kreidler said he’s investigating two additional firms over similar concerns.

“They don’t have the direct affiliation with a particular religious group, a church, a pastor,” Kreidler said. “These appear to be ones that come in with an opportunity here to make money.”

In a statement, Aliera officials disputed Kreidler’s conclusions. The company has 90 days to request a hearing.

“Aliera has never misled consumer and sales agents about its health plans,” the statement said. “For example, our website, marketing materials and other communications clearly state that Trinity’s health sharing products are not insurance. Most importantly, they have never been represented as insurance.”

The Washington order followed complaints from nearly two dozen people, including Lewis, a dance teacher who was told her planned hip surgery wouldn’t be covered.

Across the U.S., several state insurance regulators report similar concerns.

Texas insurance officials have scheduled a hearing to consider a similar order against Aliera, which has 100,000 members nationwide and reported revenue of $180 million in 2018, documents showed.

New Hampshire insurance officials on Tuesday warned consumers about Aliera, saying they were concerned about “potential fraudulent or criminal activity.” Officials in at least five other states told Kaiser Health News they are reviewing firms operating as “illegitimate” health care sharing ministries.

Aliera is operated by Shelley Steele of Marietta, Ga., and her husband, Timothy Moses, who was convicted in 2006 of federal securities fraud and perjury. He was sentenced to 6½ years in prison and ordered to repay more than $1 million to victims.

Nationwide, nearly 1 million people are enrolled in more than 100 sharing ministries in at least 29 states, according to the Alliance of Health Care Sharing Ministries. But that’s just an estimate, said James Lansberry, executive vice president of Samaritan Ministries International of Peoria, Ill. No comprehensive data is available.

“We try to track what’s going on out there,” Lansberry said. “Anyone claiming to be a health care sharing ministry could spill over onto our reputation.”

Samaritan is among what have been the three top players in the sharing ministries field. The oldest, founded in 1993, is the Medi-Share program of Melbourne, Fla., operated by Christian Care Ministry. The third is Christian Healthcare Ministries of Barberton, Ohio. All are explicitly religious and emphasize faith as the basis for members to share medical burdens.

Those groups originally were certified by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services and required to meet specific criteria. Consumers who enrolled were shielded from the Affordable Care Act’s individual mandate that required they show proof of insurance or pay a fine.

But CMS no longer certifies HCSMs and, since Congress zeroed out the mandate’s penalty in 2017, a new crop of companies, including Aliera, has sprung up. That worries some of the traditional ministries.

“HCSMs must operate with integrity, transparency, full compliance with the law, and enforcement of the law,” officials with Medi-Share, which has 415,000 members nationwide, said in a statement. “Anything outside of that violates the true spirit of the HCSM community.”

Washington investigators found that Aliera’s marketing materials rarely mention religious or ethical motivations, and they don’t meet government requirements.

Many of these entities mimic the marketing, structure and language of ACA-compliant health insurance plans — but offer none of the protections, said JoAnn Volk and Justin Giovannelli, researchers at the Georgetown University Center on Health Insurance Reforms, who wrote about the issue last summer.

“The way they advertise and the services they are providing, it sounds a heck of a lot like health insurance,” Giovannelli said. “They’re letting folks believe they have a product that has a promise to pay.”

That’s exactly what Lewis thought.

“It looked like Aliera was health insurance to me,” she said.

When Aliera denied her surgery, she had to resort to a GoFundMe site organized by friends to raise nearly $13,000 and then travel to Tijuana, Mexico, to get a hip transplant she could afford.

Fuller, who was diagnosed with throat cancer, said he was stuck with $81,000 in bills for his first month of treatment.

“They started checking my insurance and it didn’t cover nothing,” said the retired commercial electrician.

Fuller, his voice still raspy after radiation, said he had insurance through his union for years, but when the premiums spiked, he went online to find something else.

The person he talked to from Aliera said he could get insurance, no problem, Fuller said. The premium would be $350 a month, rather than the $1,300 fee for a gold plan on the state insurance exchange. “And that was with dental, too,” he added.

Low premiums also attracted Bruzas, who left her well-paid government job in Tacoma, and the insurance it provided, after her husband died in 2015. She moved to a small town in southeastern Washington to care for her parents and went online to find health insurance.

“I just sat down and Googled ‘Obamacare,’” she said. “I got a call back from a lady who said she could help me find coverage.” Bruzas was charged $219 for the first month.

Four days later, she was in the local emergency room with massive rectal bleeding. As she was discharged, hospital officials said they had “never heard of Aliera Healthcare,” she said.

The $10,000 bill was not covered. Bruzas, who works part time at a hardware store, filed for charity care and the debt was reduced to $6,500. She is paying it off slowly, $50 each month.

The Washington patients recalled mentions of “sharing” and vague references to spirituality. But none realized they were signing up for a religious cost-sharing ministry, they said.

“I would have hung up the phone if she would have said, ‘We’re a group, and we’ll review your records and pray for you,’” Bruzas said.

Aliera officials said they make the nature of their products clear.

“Aliera disagrees that Trinity’s inclusive and specific statement of beliefs misleads consumers or violates the applicable regulations governing healthcare sharing ministries,” the statement said.

It’s not clear how states can curb the new sharing ministries. If Aliera ignores his order, Kreidler said, he’ll seek a court injunction to force the groups to cease operations. But several states contacted by KHN said that because the ministries are not health insurance, state insurance officials don’t review or regulate them.

Some users of sharing ministries say the lower-priced products should be available for consumers who understand and accept the risks involved.

But consumers need to pay close attention to details when they sign up for any health plans, said Colorado Insurance Commissioner Michael Conway, who is investigating sharing ministries operating in his state.

“Ask if it’s actually insurance,” he advised. “Ask if there’s a guarantee of coverage. Get into the policy documents. Read the contract they’re agreeing to.”