Wake: Why the Battle over Diverse Public Schools Still Matters

Wake

Critical Issues in American Education

Lisa M. Nunn, Series Editor

Taking advantage of sociology’s position as a leader in the social scientific study of education, this series is home to new empirical and applied bodies of work that combine social analysis, cultural critique, and historical perspectives across disciplinary lines and the usual methodological boundaries. Books in the series aim for topical and theoretical breadth. Anchored in sociological analysis, Critical Issues in American Education features carefully crafted empirical work that takes up the most pressing educational issues of our time, including federal education policy, gender and racial disparities in student achievement, access to higher education, labor market outcomes, teacher quality, and decision making within institutions.

Judson G. Everitt, Lesson Plans: The Institutional Demands of Becoming a Teacher

Karey Harwood, Wake: Why the Battle over Diverse Public Schools Still Matters

Megan M. Holland, Divergent Paths to College: Race, Class, and Inequality in High Schools

Katie Kerstetter, How Schools Meet Students’ Needs: Inequality, School Reform, and Caring Labor

Laura Nichols, The Journey Before Us: First-Generation Pathways from Middle School to College

Lisa M. Nunn, College Belonging: How First-Year and First-Generation Students Navigate Campus Life

Daisy Verduzco Reyes, Learning to Be Latino: How Colleges Shape Identity Politics

Wake

Why the Battle over Diverse Public Schools Still Matters

KAREY HARWOOD

Rutgers University Press

New Brunswick, Camden, and Newark, New Jersey

London and Oxford

Rutgers University Press is a department of Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey, one of the leading public research universities in the nation. By publishing worldwide, it furthers the University’s mission of dedication to excellence in teaching, scholarship, research, and clinical care.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Harwood, Karey, author.

Title: Wake : why the battle over diverse public schools still matters / Karey Harwood.

Description: New Brunswick : Rutgers University Press, [2024] | Series: Critical issues in American education | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2023041242 | ISBN 9781978836563 (paperback) | ISBN 9781978836570 (hardback) | ISBN 9781978836587 (epub) | ISBN 9781978836594 (pdf)

Subjects: LCSH: School integration—North Carolina—Wake County. | Segregation in education—North Carolina—Wake County. | Educational equalization—North Carolina—Wake County. | Wake County Public School System—History. | Community schools—North Carolina—Wake County—History. | Community and school—North Carolina—Wake County—History. | Public schools—North Carolina—Wake County—History.

Classification: LCC LC214.22.N66 H37 2024 | DDC 379.2/630975655—dc23/eng/20231106

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023041242

A British Cataloging-in-Publication record for this book is available from the British Library.

Copyright © 2024 by Karey Harwood

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. Please contact Rutgers University Press, 106 Somerset Street, New Brunswick, NJ 08901. The only exception to this prohibition is fair use as defined by U.S. copyright law.

References to internet websites (URLs) were accurate at the time of writing. Neither the author nor Rutgers University Press is responsible for URLs that may have expired or changed since the manuscript was prepared.

The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1992.

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Dedicated to the public school teachers, staff, and students who do the work of integration.

Contents

1 Wake County’s Example: What Happened Here Was Remarkable

2 Contested Values in Wake’s Debate: Published Opinions, 2009–2011

3 Defenders of the Faith: Community Leaders Reflect on Diversity a Decade Later

4 Arguing from the Past, Fighting for the Future

5 Moral Logics and the Case for True Integration

Appendix A: News & Observer Search Process

Appendix B: Interviewees and Questions

Appendix C: Key Participants

Acknowledgments

Notes

Index

Wake

1

Wake County’s Example

What Happened Here Was Remarkable

On December 1, 2009, I along with dozens of my fellow citizens in Wake County filed into the old board of education building on Wake Forest Road in Raleigh. We were there to see the new school board members at their first public meeting after upset victories in a low turnout election that fall. Four Republican candidates running on a promise of neighborhood schools had swept their races. The neighborhood schools supporters joined Ron Margiotta, already serving a term on the board, to form a 5–4 majority. Before that night, I had never attended a school board meeting. I never had reason to. From my perspective as a relatively young parent whose children attended the Wake County Public School System (WCPSS), the district was doing an excellent job. Wake County’s superintendent had won the National Superintendent of the Year Award just a few years prior, in 2004, when my oldest child was in first grade. In fact, in 2002 we turned down an opportunity to move from Atlanta, where I had attended grad school, to New Jersey, my home state, deciding instead on North Carolina because of the quality of the public schools. When we first moved to Raleigh, I did not fully understand how much the excellence of the schools in Wake County went hand in hand with their racial and socioeconomic diversity. But as that reality became quickly apparent, I was both amazed and pleased: my children’s public school experience in a southern school district was destined to be considerably more integrated than my own had been across three different districts in the Northeast.

An Awakening

Given my satisfaction with the schools, I never imagined I would be sitting among this agitated crowd and anxious about what the election results portended. What was at stake, what had drawn the big response, was concern that the newly elected board members would dismantle Policy 6200, the so-called diversity policy governing student assignment, one of many pieces in a decades-long effort to ensure racial and socioeconomic integration in Wake County’s public schools. Many individuals delivered passionate speeches during the public comment period expressing their support for the school system and specifically for the diversity policy. But speeches turned to shouts and protest as it became quickly apparent that the new board members had met privately to discuss their plans in advance of the public meeting. Projected on a screen were the draft changes being proposed for Policy 6200, including the elimination of Creating and maintaining a diverse student body as a priority in student assignment. These words were struck through with a line. The proposal also replaced Maintaining diverse student populations with Maintaining stable populations that consider proximity to home.¹

I was not unaware of the discontent felt by some parents toward Wake County’s student assignment policy. A small but energized group of parents had organized around their shared dissatisfaction with the system, particularly over what they perceived to be unwarranted and disruptive reassignment of students for the purpose of social engineering—that is, intervening through policy to avoid the creation of high-poverty schools rather than letting the chips fall according to neighborhoods and who happened to live in them. These were the parents who had recruited and campaigned for the four partisan Republican candidates, and who had mobilized voter turnout. As I left the meeting that night, I overheard Democratic board member Carolyn Morrison commenting to a reporter that the four newcomers had awakened a sleeping giant. Aware of my own sleepy privilege in taking for granted the school system’s success and staying power, the consequences of local politics jolted me awake. That December meeting served as my initiation to learning about the history of Wake County and North Carolina’s public schools and the ongoing struggle to provide an equitable education to all children.

The Intervening Years

In his book, Children of the Dream: Why School Integration Works (2019), Rucker C. Johnson describes the trauma felt by supporters of school integration in Louisville, Kentucky, when they watched Wake County, a pillar of defense, dismantle its successful integration plan.² What happened in Wake apparently emboldened politicians in the Kentucky state senate and other stakeholders to pursue more aggressive anti-integration efforts of their own. Despite what Kentucky took to be a death knell for integration, the battle in Wake County is by no means over. An equally dramatic school board election in 2011 wrested control of the board away from the Republican majority. After considerable grassroots organizing by energized parents and community members, five Democratic candidates won all five contested seats, including the one held by Chair Ron Margiotta. Although the board has never been able to reinstitute the full extent of the old Policy 6200, in many ways they have continued the work of resisting segregation. Among the core beliefs of WCPSS’s strategic plan, for example, are these: The Board of Education, superintendent, and all staff value a diverse school community that is inviting, respectful, inclusive, flexible, and supportive, and Every child is expected to learn, grow, and succeed while we eliminate the ability to predict achievement based on socioeconomic status, race, and ethnicity.³ These core beliefs inform policy decisions large and small, at both the school and district level.

Another sign that the battle continues is the robust landscape of organizations supporting public education in Wake County and North Carolina more broadly. Some of these organizations predate the 2009 school board election by decades; for example, WakeEd Partnership and the Public School Forum of North Carolina.⁴ Some emerged in the aftermath of that watershed event or were created much more recently, such as Great Schools in Wake, Public Schools First NC, EdNC, Center for Racial Equity in Education, Dudley Flood Center for Educational Equity and Opportunity, Every Child NC, and A Better Wake: Dismantling Systemic Racism.⁵ These organizations have different missions and priorities. They are not all singularly focused on racial and socioeconomic integration of schools per se, but most include equity in education as part of their core mission or advocate for North Carolina to make good on its state constitution’s commitment to provide a sound basic education for all children.⁶ What is most significant is that these various groups keep the conversation about public schools going—through their publications, webinars, in-person events, and outreach efforts to inform and engage citizens. The conversation about public school integration is now more nuanced and less combative than it was during the most intense period of 2009–2011, but it is no less robust. Inside schools, through school equity teams, and in other spaces of civic engagement, there is a willingness to tackle the difficult subject of racial equity that may not have existed a decade ago.

The battle also continues because schools and districts are not static. The WCPSS enrolled 161,907 students in the 2019–2020 school year, which represents a near tripling of its student population since 1980.⁷ People often say that Wake County was a victim of its own success. The schools were great, and taxes were low, so people moved here. WCPSS is now the fifteenth-largest school district in the nation and the largest in North Carolina. Its total number of schools grew from 159 to 191 during the last decade, from 2009–2010 to 2020–2021, even as the public schools faced increasing competition for students from the rapid growth of charter schools enabled by the North Carolina state legislature, which lifted the statewide one hundred charter school cap in 2011, and a private school voucher program initiated by the state legislature in 2013 and given increasingly more funding since.⁸ Still, despite its large size, WCPSS is nothing like the large, intensely urban school districts of New York City, Chicago, or Los Angeles. At 857 square miles, Wake County spreads its population of 1.1 million (2019) across a dozen cities and towns, including the state’s capital, Raleigh.⁹

While current demographic profiles of the schools in Wake County show some troubling trends toward racial and socioeconomic segregation, the district has held the line in important respects. For example, 72% of schools as of the 2021–2022 school year still met the original benchmark of the old diversity policy, which was to have no more than 40% of students in a school qualifying for free and reduced-price lunch (FRL), a standard used to make sure each school had a healthy balance of low- and high-needs students. This is similar to—and slightly better than—where things were in 2009–2010, when 67% of schools met that benchmark.¹⁰ Figure 1.1 shows the change over time (between 2009 and 2022) in the percentage of Wake County public schools meeting the benchmark of less than 40% FRL.

FIGURE 1.1 Wake schools meeting old diversity policy (less than 40 percent free and reduced-price lunch), 2009–2022. (Data from Wake County Public School System, August 2022.)

FIGURE 1.2 Distribution of Wake free and reduced-price lunch (FRL) rates. (Data from Wake County Public School System, August 2022.)

Still, in the 2020–2021 school year, 30% of schools had more than 40% of students qualifying for free and reduced-price lunch. Of those schools, 21 out of 191 (or 11%) were in the 40–50% FRL range, 22 (11.5%) were in the 50–60% FRL range, 8 (4.2%) were in the 60–70% FRL range, and 7 (3.7%) were in the 70–80% FRL range. At the time, none were over 80% FRL. Those with higher FRL numbers are higher poverty schools. Figure 1.2 shows the distribution of FRL rates by decile, comparing the percentage of schools falling into each decile in 2009–2010 and 2020–2021. Percentages have been rounded to whole numbers.

A significant change from a decade ago is that the number of schools in the 70–80% FRL range increased from 2 to 7 schools (or from 1.3% of schools in 2009–2010 to 3.6% of schools in 2020–2021). In all 7 of these schools, the largest ethnic group is Black (ranging from 50.0 to 70.6% Black).¹¹ The next largest group is Latino, who make up an average of 27.1% of the student population in these higher poverty schools. Figure 1.3 shows the average racial makeup of schools in the highest FRL decile existing in WCPSS, which for the 2020–2021 school year was 70–80% FRL.

On the other end of the wealth spectrum, the number of public schools in Wake County with very few students qualifying for free and reduced-price lunch has also increased over the last decade. In 2009–2010, only 4 out of 159 schools (2.5% of schools) had less than 10% of their student population qualifying for free and reduced-price lunch. By contrast, in 2020–2021, 21 out of 191 schools (11% of schools) were below 10% FRL. Interestingly, while white students were the largest ethnic group in 4 out of those 4 high-wealth schools in 2009–2010, white students were the largest ethnic group in only 10 of the 21 high-wealth schools in 2020–2021 (ranging from 44.7% to 81.8% white in those 10 schools; averaging 50.1% across all 21 high-wealth schools). Asian students were by 2020–2021 the largest ethnic group in 11 of the 21 high-wealth schools (ranging from 37.5% to 62.8% Asian in those 11 schools; averaging 32.3% across all 21 high-wealth schools).¹² Most of these schools are located in the western part of the county, which is closest to Research Triangle Park, a major hub for research and technology companies. Figure 1.4 shows the average racial makeup for these high-wealth (lowest FRL) schools in 2020–2021.

FIGURE 1.3 Average racial makeup of schools in highest free and reduced-price lunch decile (70–80 percent), 2020–2021. (Data from Wake County Public School System, August 2022.)

These more recent statistics suggest some polarization of the student population in Wake County, with increases at either end of high and low socioeconomic status. But it is important to remember how well Wake still compares to other large school districts and to the country as a whole. Apples to apples comparisons are tricky, but there are numerous examples around the United States where city school districts are high poverty and neighboring suburban school districts are not. Wake County Public Schools, by consolidating Raleigh City and Wake County schools into one unified district in 1976, has used its size to share its wealth and buffer smaller towns and their schools from economic stresses. According to nationally reported data on the country’s 120 largest school districts, Wake County’s poverty rate of five-to-seventeen-year-olds in 2017 was 11.1%, whereas, to name just a single example in a commonly repeating pattern across the United States, the city of Baltimore school district’s poverty rate of five-to-seventeen-year-olds was 29.2% while Baltimore County school district’s was 9.5%.¹³

FIGURE 1.4 Average racial makeup of schools in lowest free and reduced-price lunch decile (0–10 percent), 2020–2021. (Data from Wake County Public School System, August 2022.)

As for racial segregation, Wake County still does considerably better than the country as a whole. For example, Wake has no intensely segregated schools, defined as 90–100% nonwhite (or white) students. In the United States overall, 40% of Black and 41.6% of Latino students attend intensely segregated nonwhite schools.¹⁴ Indeed, Wake’s school demographics are a striking contrast with many districts in the Northeast, which has some of the most racially segregated schools in the country.¹⁵ Wake’s countywide structure also contrasts with the far more typical structure of small school districts that align with a town’s borders.¹⁶

To take one example, the school district where I attended grades ten through twelve in Westfield, New Jersey, sits four miles down the road from the town of Plainfield, New Jersey. In 2018–2019, thirty years after I graduated from high school, Westfield and Plainfield were still the inverse of each other in terms of white and nonwhite student populations, although if anything, Westfield has more racial diversity than it did when I lived there. In 2018–2019, the Westfield Public School District served just 6,304 students, pre-K through twelfth grade. Its student population was 80% white, 3% Black, 8% Latino, and 7% Asian. In the same year, the Plainfield Public School District served 9,363 students, pre-K through twelfth grade. Its student population was 9% white, 40% Black, 45% Latino, and 1% Asian. Westfield spends a generous $19,839 annually per pupil, and the source of 83% of its total revenue is local, from the town of Westfield, while only 16% comes from the state and 1% from the federal government. Plainfield spends $21,928 per student, but 81% of its total revenue comes from the state and 5% from the federal government. The remaining 14% comes from Plainfield.¹⁷

In contrast to both Westfield and Plainfield, Wake County Public Schools serves nearly 162,000 K-12 students, 44.5% of whom are white, 22.4% Black, 18.6% Latino, and 10.4% Asian.¹⁸ Wake’s per pupil expenditure is $9,670, not even half what is spent in these New Jersey towns; 61% of Wake’s revenue comes from the state, 32% from local sources, and 7% from the federal government.¹⁹ Districtwide, just under 30% of students qualify for the free and reduced-price lunch program.²⁰

There are periodic demands to break up the WCPSS into multiple smaller districts. This desire is not surprising for at least two related reasons: (1) Wake County is one of the fastest growing counties in the United States, which has created understandable challenges for the school system, and (2) a significant number of people who have moved to Wake County in recent decades are relocating from other states, including northeastern states like New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania, where the structure of school districts is not centralized.²¹ To date, Wake County resists those demands, citing both pragmatic and moral reasons: economies of scale create efficiencies and savings, and a single countywide system enables the opportunity for meaningful integration.

Case Studies of Wake County Schools

The Wake County Public School System (WCPSS) has provided a rich case study for social scientists and journalists alike, given its complex history and prominent role in seeking a pathway to racial and socioeconomic integration. Studies over the past twenty years have described some of that history and analyzed key policy decisions and their impact.

For example, a chapter by education reporter Todd Silberman in the Century Foundation’s report Divided We Fail: Coming Together through Public School Choice (2002) describes the key student assignment policy decisions in Wake County since the merger of city and county school systems in 1976. He includes the late 1970s policy to balance schools by race (no more than 45% minority and no less than 15% minority in each school at a time when the county’s overall enrollment was approximately 70% white and 30% Black), the opening of the first magnet schools in the early 1980s to encourage voluntary integration, and the decision in 2000 to use socioeconomic status rather than race as a factor in student assignment.²² Silberman also provides crucial context for the challenges facing the school system at the turn of the millennium, including explosive population growth during the 1990s, a decade that saw a 48% increase in Wake County’s total population and dramatic shifts in demographics in some of its smaller towns. For example, Holly Springs grew nearly tenfold and shifted from 78% Black to 77% white. Apex grew fourfold and shifted from 90% Black to 7.5% Black. Significantly, he points out signs of trouble, such as white families choosing majority-white environments where available (e.g., year-round schools when first introduced), affluent families leaving a school (Joyner Elementary) when more poor children were assigned to it, families in Apex protesting the assignment of their own children to poorer schools, and affluent neighborhoods in the western part of the county demanding the construction of new schools in lieu of commuting to downtown magnets.

Sociologist Gerald Grant’s Hope and Despair in the American City: Why There Are No Bad Schools in Raleigh (2009) tells a dramatic tale of two cities: his hometown of Syracuse, New York, and Raleigh, North Carolina. Compared to Syracuse, which is held up as the emblematic northern city that never integrated across city and suburb district lines thanks to the 1974 U.S. Supreme Court decision in Milliken v. Bradley, Raleigh is presented as a remarkable success and beacon of hope. Grant’s primary evidence for the success of Wake County schools is gathered from the 2000s, when the district fully committed to a goal of having 95% of all K-8 students achieving at or above grade level by 2003. With the collective effort of teachers, principals, and community members, the number of third graders passing the state’s math and reading tests rose from 71% in 1994 to 91% by 2003. Notably, the percentage of Black children in grades 3–8 who were passing the state math test rose from 57%