The Long Walk Home

Though it's well-known that the achievement gap is the only reason the case -- and all its attendant legal bills -- continues today, few people realize that Kansas City's gap is actually narrower than the average gap between black and white students nationwide, according to the testimony of education expert Dr. David Armor, cited at length in Clark's final order. Moreover, Kansas City's gap is based on scores from a multiple-choice test the district no longer gives. So to prove whether the gap has closed, the district will have to somehow convert the answers from the state's long-form tests into answers from the old (and, most agree, inferior) multiple-choice tests.

Benson believes the continuation of the case is good for Kansas City's students because it requires the district to continue making improvements. "I'm a thorn in the district's side," he says.

But superintendent Dr. Bernard Taylor says the case is "just one of the factors we have to deal with." Taylor adds, "I don't think that it has anything to do with what our mission is to begin with. I don't think it's helping or hurting. I think it's just a reality."

For Smith and Wilson, the ongoing case has become surreal. Wilson, who is now the School Advisory Committee chairman for Ladd Elementary, is battling Benson over plans to expand the district's African-centered education program to include a middle school. Wilson supports the program because he's seen it inspire Ladd's parents to create a school community akin to the one he experienced at Central. The school's test scores, which had been among the worst in the district, have improved dramatically.

Benson at first opposed the African-centered program, but after it was established at J.S. Chick Elementary eleven years ago, he agreed to expand it into several other schools in the district. Now he claims he is merely "raising questions about the program," though he has filed a motion with the federal court to stop current expansion plans.

Like his former neighbor, Smith has also entered a battle with Benson, though his will be more constant and prolonged. When he took an oath in early April to serve four years on the Kansas City school board, Smith instantly became a defendant in the case. Ironically, Smith had testified on behalf of the plaintiffs a dozen years ago. But he was really just sticking up for his alma mater. When the state had tried to find a way out of paying the bill for the new $32 million building, he had taken the stand to say that the new school and its fabulous facilities would benefit the neighborhood. The state's lawyers tried to strike his testimony by arguing that he didn't qualify as an expert about the teens who lived around Central. "I was very pleased when the judge overruled that argument," Smith says.

The building has benefited the neighborhood. On any given weeknight or Saturday, Central is alive with people who use its sports facilities and classrooms for community activities. But all these years later, Smith and many of his peers in the black community have come to see the desegregation case as just another means of disenfranchising blacks. "We know now that the magnet system imparted real damage on the African-American community," he says. "Some today say African-Americans may have been better off to stay segregated with regards to education. The focus was pretty direct in those days."

Even when he took the stand, Smith had doubted the underlying premise of the case. "I didn't much buy into the notion that the building would draw in white students," he says. Nor did he believe that black kids needed to share classes with white kids to get a solid education. "I thought the answer was stronger teachers, parental involvement, community support," he explains. "The things I had when I was growing up."