The Crippling Separation That Escapes the Wonder of Oneness

I saw a photo a couple of days ago that disturbed me greatly, and still does when I look at it (see below).

I don't recall ever seeing the building when I was growing up and attending college, 1944-1960. But it was there; and I regularly attended football games of the Barefield school that the building housed. I did not really know any of the school's players, and only two or three of its non-athletes, who sometimes visited our grocery.

Then came the Brown vs Board of Education decision of 1954 that ended racial segregation in public schools around the USA; and the Barefield students were integrated into Refugio High School.

Ever since, I've applauded the integration. It was needed. It was the right move, and one that was long overdue.

However, it was not until 1969 that I heard anything I thought was unusual and related to the building. My friend, Teddy Gray, was the OC for the RHS Bobcats and, so he told me, he was working players out next to the building when a Refugio school representative drove up and told him that the head coach had been fired, and he (Gray) was to be the new coach. Teddy Gray eventually led the Bobcats to their first state title, a co-championship with Iowa Park.

A few years later, T. Gray wound up in Dickinson Tx, where his Gators also claimed a state title; and to this day, Gray is the only ex-Bobcat to head coach two different state title winners at two different high schools.

With such pleasant memories, why then does this photo still bug me?

For a good reason. Integration did not end inequality. In fact, in recent years, it has resurfaced as equality movements have either dwindled to weakness or been blown entirely away.

This photo tells a story of defeat. Why is it being demolished. My answer: to mark the beginning of new kinds of inequality, where old buildings simply are of little worth. What our society now wants are buildings that hide the reality of our inequalities.