NEWS ITEM: Twelve months later, Clayton County finally hires a superintendent.
Exactly one year ago yesterday, Dan Colwell was abruptly fired as superintendent
of the Clayton County School System. An illegal action, Clayton's
misfit Board of Education "righted" themselves within the week
and then fired him again, as legally as they could.
His office door in Jonesboro padlocked, Colwell took the hint and swore
off education. The former head of Georgia's sixth-largest school
system now sells real estate here in Fayette County, where he has lived
for several years. Though a career educator in Clayton until his dismissal,
Colwell and his wife sent their children to Fayette County schools, which
he now promotes to prospective home buyers, one would assume.
No dummies, the Colwells.
His firing was like pouring gasoline on a smoldering pile of leaves,
igniting a series of events that have left the community to our east a
decaying shell of its former self, with the lowest property values and,
after the city of Atlanta, the worst-performing schools in metro Atlanta.
NEWS ITEM: Tyrone Town Council passes ordinance prohibiting operation
of "massage parlors," limits liquor sales to restaurants.
"Clayton school chief likes a challenge," read the unintentionally
sarcastic headline over a story in the Big Metro Daily on Barbara Pulliam,
55, who hails from a small district in suburban Illinois but has experience
in the war zone known as Chicago Public Schools.
Calling the dismal condition of Clayton's schools "a challenge"
is laughable, of course, but the state of public education just across
the Flint River isn't funny. Though the threat of losing accreditation
is mostly lifted with the hiring of Pulliam, Clayton still has a long
way to go:
- SAT scores took another nosedive in 2003, falling to 897, 87 points
below the state average, which is the lowest in the nation;
- 14 percent of Clayton 11th graders failed last year to pass the
state's High School Writing Test required for graduation;
- Nearly 60 percent of Clayton's students qualify for free
or reduced lunch;
- Clayton's graduation rate of 60.3 percent is 3 points below
the state average;
- At roughly 80 percent, the number of "Highly Qualified Teachers"
in Clayton classrooms is the lowest among any school district in Metro
Atlanta;
- Based on the most recent measures of student performance, every
school in Clayton County will fail Adequate Yearly Progress this year.
NEWS ITEM: Clayton Chamber of Commerce CEO quits, saying a community
overrun with apartments, mini-marts and cheap starter homes shows no economic
promise.
Clayton's schools were already in sharp decline before the whole
Colwell incident sent them into a tailspin, mirroring a dramatic and unprecedented
shift in demographics starting in the early 1990s that anybody should
have seen coming, but which Clayton leadership ignored.
Of course I'm talking about "white flight," a couple of
innocent words that turn ugly when applied to the phenomenon of pulling
up and moving out of neighborhoods in which you invest your all just to
avoid being the last "white" family on the street.
Many of you are familiar with this concept because you've been there,
done that: Southwest Atlanta in the 1960s; South DeKalb in the 1970s;
South Fulton in the 1980s; and now, Clayton in the last decade.
The 1990 Census showed Clayton County had 182,000 people, 72 percent
of them white. By 2000, when Clayton's population had expanded to
236,000 total, the share of white residents had fallen to 37.9 percent.
At 51.6 percent, blacks were the new majority in 2000.
But it wasn't just new African-American families moving in that
so dramatically shifted the face of Clayton County in the 1990s: Whites
moved out by the tens of thousands, from 131,792 in 1990 to just 89,741
in 2000.
Two years later, in 2002, the Census estimated the number of whites had
fallen another 20,000 people, to 67,942, or 28 percent. The black population,
meanwhile, had grown almost as many by 2002, to 146,614, or roughly 61
percent.
In two years.
NEWS ITEM: First Baptist Church of Jonesboro noted by the Southern Baptist
Convention for having the "fastest-growing African-American membership
in the nation."
Just 14 years ago, the racial breakdown in Clayton County was dead-on
the state average.
Today, it is the most segregated of Georgia's largest counties,
with a larger share of black residents than DeKalb or Fulton counties
and even the city of Atlanta.
Until the current school board took office in January of last year, Clayton
had no majority-blacked elected boards or councils. Riverdale elected
a black mayor in November, the first for any Clayton municipality.
Yet, as a percent of the total population, only tiny Hancock County in
the "Black Belt" of central Georgia shows a larger share of
African-Americans than Clayton, based on Census estimates.
To think such a dramatic change would not impact the schools would be
foolish, of course. Just since 2000, white enrollment has fallen another
12 percent in Clayton, to about 14 percent of the total. Every school
in the county is at least majority black, some nearly all black.
But to place the blame for the collapse of a once-proud school system
on a rapid change in the makeup of its student enrollment is too easy
an out. The Clayton County story is far more complicated than that.
Consider: All the while Clayton County's schools have been sliding
further off the charts of acceptability, new homes have gone up at a record-pace
on any tract of land still available. It's like "build-out"
in Peachtree City, except Clayton knows not the meaning of the word "greenspace."
Who is buying these homes? Who is enrolling their children in these schools?
Perhaps the answer can be found in the types of commercial businesses
that have sprung up in recent years along Ga. Highway 85 in Riverdale,
Tara Boulevard in Jonesboro and Old Dixie Highway in Forest Park: Title
pawn outfits, furniture rental rip-offs, extended stay motels and Asian
"spas" fronting for prostitution.
When there are competing storefronts on opposite corners of the street
declaring "Checks Cashed" in bright pink neon, it means this:
Your population is barely getting by.
And a population barely getting by will get excited about a three-bedroom,
two-bath home on a quarter acre for $100,000. They will not be concerned
whether or not the neighborhood school improved its test scores last year.
The delicate relationship between a community's schools and its
overall economic well-being can be summed up this way: A community declines
only when its schools start to decline, and schools decline only when
a community allows them to decline.
If you own a home in Fayette County and you don't care about the
welfare of Fayette County's schools, do your neighbors a favor and
sell to someone who does.
NEWS FLASH: Since 2000, black enrollment growth in Fayette County schools
has outpaced white enrollment growth by more than 500 percent.
NEXT WEEK: The rest of that story.






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