In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

195 t h i r t y - o n e Owen Brooks any conversation with Owen Brooks was overtly challenging. It was invariably a mixed, invigorating salad of opinions, shared experiences , and questions, all served with a robust humor and vigor. More than anyone else I met in my time in Mississippi, Brooks was the most challenging and provocative. When I would leave, there invariably were ideas to wrestle with, and new perspectives to explore. When I first met him in 1980, he told me of his beginnings in Mississippi. “I had wanted to come south from Boston for a long time. I had the feeling that the liberation of black people had to emanate from that southern soil, and I wanted to be part of that. The Delta Ministry gave me the opportunity. And at age thirty-six, in 1965, I came to Mississippi. The Delta Ministry was putting together Head Start. I went to work with Amzie Moore and Fannie Lou Hamer, and I’ve continued to work in Mississippi ever since.” Very soon, I recognized that a very analytical, very self-critical, and very bold mind was at work. Blacks and whites, politicians and educators, leaders and followers—all were fair game for his searching criticism. “We made organizational mistakes in the movement, and we made some bad choices. We could begin by saying we almost totally lost the struggle to educate our black children. Or we could begin by saying we didn’t teach the following generation anything.” He saw my look of skepticism and said firmly, “We didn’t pass down to the children. We gave over to the establishment, almost completely, the education of our black children.” “But weren’t you working to integrate the schools?” I was perplexed by his pessimistic assessment. 196   |   The Roads from the Delta “We came out of the generation that valued education so much,” he responded. “And we were told by the liberals and the moderates that black children would get a better education if they went to school with white children.” He slapped the desk. “Oh, Lord! We tore the children from their mothers and transported them across town. We did that! And what did the white children do?” His look was challenging. “They left the schools. And what did they take with them? The resources. What they left behind was the appearance that we blacks were in control of education. The reality is that without resources, we just aren’t there.” His sense of frustration and betrayal was palpable, and I waited in the silence for him to continue. He looked pained, and his voice was gentle. “The black parents had faith that their children would be adequately educated . We’d told them that for so long: ‘If you get education, you get liberation .’” He pushed back his chair and looked at me. “Let’s be honest about who is being educated in our country, and who is not being educated in our country. How ‘educated’ is a black child who can’t spell, can’t read? How ‘liberated’ is a black child who can’t count? A computer is not going to help him. How can he use it?” ...

Share