The Washington Post | Saturday, May 10, 2008
In his recently released book, “Becton: Autobiography of a Soldier and Public Servant,” retired Army Lt. Gen. Julius W. Becton Jr. delves into his tumultuous tenure as chief executive of D.C. public schools in the late 1990s. Chapter 19, “My Toughest Challenge,” should be read by anyone interested in a firsthand account of life in a D.C. school system firestorm.
I have, however, a quibble with the book.
Becton’s discussion of his attempt to close schools includes a reference to yours truly being “devastated” by the thought that Thaddeus Stevens Elementary School at 21st and L streets NW was on Becton’s hit list.
Devastated is a bit strong; bent out of shape is more accurate.
Stevens, as Becton noted, was the first school built in Washington for freed slaves after the Civil War.
Becton got it slightly wrong when he wrote that my grandparents, parents, siblings and I had attended Stevens. All of the King family members except my grandparents are Stevens alumni.
I confess to using this column at the time to weep and wail about the looming demise of Stevens [“Selling Off a Piece of the City’s Heritage,” op-ed, March 22, 1997]. But my concern then, like my worry now, had nothing to do with the basic rationale for closing schools.
Becton’s reasons for closing schools were much the same as those used today by Mayor Adrian Fenty and Schools Chancellor Michelle Rhee.
Becton found himself in charge of a school system with a lot of underused space. That problem is now more acute; today’s public school enrollment is half of what it was in 1960.
Closures and consolidations are necessary, a point made forcefully and eloquently this week by D.C. Council member Muriel Bowser at a Ward 4 Democratic candidates debate.
So I have been reluctant to second-guess Fenty and Rhee on their decision to deal with under-enrolled public schools.
The issue for me — then and now — is how the city handles landmarks such as Stevens. For scores of Washingtonians, that 140-year-old building has as much meaning and value as some of the historic structures on the Mall.
I’ve seen what happens when people who call the shots have little regard for history.
The landmark Dunbar High School at First and N Streets NW — the nation’s first public high school for African Americans and the alma mater of many notable 20th-century figures — was thoughtlessly demolished. (I’m still bent out of shape about that.)
Dunbar was dismissed as a neighborhood shrine not worth keeping around for the sake of sentimental old-timers.
Better to reduce these old structures to rubble to make way for the new, went the thinking. As far as those decision makers were concerned, the only D.C. history worth respecting was the history they were making.
Becton writes in his book that Stevens was one of two schools slated to be gutted and rebuilt in a way that preserved its outward appearance. That assurance never materialized in a tangible form.
Today’s pledge is even gauzier. Regarding Stevens, “All options are on the table,” said Sean Madigan, a spokesman for Neil O. Albert, deputy mayor for planning and economic development. Madigan told The Post that there would be meetings with the community to discuss possibilities for the property’s reuse.
Define “community.”
In D.C.-speak, that includes the developers salivating at the prospect of getting their hands on prime downtown real estate.
Will their voices be heard over others in the Stevens community — parents, teachers and neighbors in the West End? Susan Trinter, editor of the Foggy Bottom News, wrote a sympathetic piece last February after getting word about the intended closure of Stevens, the only public elementary school in the neighborhood. She noted strong community support for Stevens as a living landmark and a legacy the city should treasure.
That point is not lost on Rhee. But the schools chief, in response, cites the school’s academic performance; only 27 percent of Stevens students tested proficient or better on the D.C. Comprehensive Assessment System math exam last year.
Rhee wants Stevens students and some teachers to transfer to Francis Junior High School, where pre-kindergarten through eighth grade will be expanded.
Every member of my family also attended Francis. The issue is not Stevens vs. Francis, at least not for me.
So why turn from other pressing matters in our city and nation to write about this?
There are some things in life that once gone you can never get back. Our physical heritage is such a thing.
Those structures, snickered at by some as irrelevant to the moment, should be sources of pride and should be left standing as symbols of past achievement. They tell us something about who we once were and teach lessons our children should never forget.
District of Columbia historic artifacts such as Dunbar and Stevens are simply irreplaceable.
Becton missed that. Will Rhee miss it, too?
return to Friends of Stevens page»
