Sixty years after Brown, I, the daughter of a mother who grew up in
segregated schools, wrestle with what this historical moment means in
our present. The decision, its success and failure, continues to have a
direct impact on my life and the lives of people that I love.
The fact remains that, despite my mother’s ability to earn an
advanced degree after being told she wasn’t college material, and
despite her will to take on a second job to pay for private school
instead of sending me to the failing school down the street, we both
remain the only college graduates in our family.
I refuse to celebrate the marvel of being a black girl from New Haven to make it to Yale.
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