Black Power in the Suburbs: The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation (Suny Series in African American Studies)

Black Power in the Suburbs 32903_SP_JOH_FM01_00i-xii 1 8/13/02, 9:40 PM SUNY series in African American Studies Jo...

Author: Valerie C. Johnson

58 downloads 1063 Views 1MB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

Black Power in the Suburbs

32903_SP_JOH_FM01_00i-xii

1

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

SUNY series in African American Studies John R. Howard and Robert C. Smith, editors


2

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

Black Power in the Suburbs The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation

Valerie C. Johnson

State University of New York Press


3

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

Published by State University of New York Press, Albany © 2002 State University of New York All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. No part of this book may be stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. For information, address the State University of New York Press, 90 State Street, Suite 700, Albany, NY 12207 Production by Michael Haggett Marketing by Jennifer Giovani Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Johnson, Valerie C. Black power in the suburbs : the myth or reality of African-American suburban political incorporation / Valerie C. Johnson p. cm. — (SUNY series in African American studies) Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index. ISBN 0-7914-5527-0 (alk. paper)—ISBN 0-7914-5528-9 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. African Americans—Maryland—Prince George’s County—Politics and government—20th century. 2. African Americans—Maryland—Prince George’s County—Social conditions—20th century. 3. African Americans—Education—Maryland—Prince George’s County. 4. Representative government and representation—Maryland—Prince George’s County—Case studies. 5. Education and state—Maryland—Prince George’s County—Case studies. 6. Prince George’s County (Md.)—Politics and government—20th century. 7. Prince George’s County (Md.)—Social conditions—20th century. 8. Prince George’s County (Md.)—Race relations I. Title. II. Series. F187.P9 J64 2002 975.2'5100496073—dc21

2002070718 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


4

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

Dedication To my maternal grandmother, Wilma Heffney (1900–1969), my mother, Grace Johnson, my father, William Johnson, Sr., and to my brother, William Johnson, Jr.


5

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

This page intentionally left blank.


6

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

Contents

List of Tables and Figures Acknowledgments

ix xi

1

African-American Suburban Political Incorporation

1

2

Prince George’s County: Politics and the African-American Migration

23

Social and Economic Characteristics of Prince George’s County, Maryland

45

The Quest for African-American Political Representation in Prince George’s County, Maryland

59

African-American Prince Georgians: Mobilization for Key Appointments

91

3 4 5 6 7 8

African-American Prince Georgians: Policy Influence in the Education Arena

107

The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation

131

A Tale of Two Counties—Present and Past, Affluent and Poor

145

Appendix A: Questionnaire for African-American Community Leaders

163

Appendix B: Questionnaire for African-American Elected Officials

173

Notes Bibliography Index

183 199 213

vii


7

8/13/02, 9:40 PM



8

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

List of Tables and Figures

TABLES 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 3.1

3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5

3.6

3.7

3.8

Housing Units Constructed (1960–1990) Owner/Renter Occupancy Rates (1970–1990) Median Housing Values—(1970–1990) Washington, D.C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Race (1980) Washington, D.C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Income (1980) Washington, D.C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Housing Tenure (1980) African-American/White Population Trends, Prince George’s County (1960–1990) Socioeconomic Characteristics by Percentages (1990) Prince George ’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. African-American/White Socioeconomic Comparisons, Prince George’s County, Maryland, 1990 African-American/White Owner/Renter Occupancy Rates, Prince George’s County (1970–1990) African-American/White Median Housing Values, Prince George’s County (1970–1990) Housing Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Income Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Employment Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Education Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. ix

33 34 35 36 38 38 39

46 47 48 49

53

54

55

55

x

3.9 8.1

LIST

OF

TCABLES ONTENTS AND FIGURES

Socioeconomic Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County and Baltimore, Maryland African-American/White Population Trends, Prince George’s County (1970–2000)

57 147

FIGURES 1.1 2.1 2.2 2.3 4.1 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 8.5 8.6

A Model of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation Percent African American for Prince George’s County, 1970 Percent African American for Prince George’s County, 1980 Percent African American for Prince George’s County, 1990 African American Elected Officials, 1970–1994 African-American and White Population Trends (1970–2000) Percent African American for Prince George’s County—1970 Percent African American for Prince George’s County—1980 Percent African American for Prince George’s County—1990 Percent African American for Prince George’s County—2000 African-American Population and Elected Officials 1970-2000

17 40 42 43 81 146 149 150 151 152 160

Contents

xi

Acknowledgments

As I think back on it, I have been writing this acknowledgement in my head over the course of my lifetime. Many people have impacted my scholarly development. Professors Claude Barnes, Jarvis Hall, Mack Jones and Clarence N. Stone deserve special recognition—without them, I never would have ventured out as far as I have. My views and interests in black politics were influenced early on by Professors Barnes and Hall, and my perspective was fine-tuned under the tutelage of the eminent Professor Jones. Clarence N. Stone supervised the original form of this manuscript, my doctoral dissertation. His dedication to molding young scholars is unheralded. He has, without doubt, had the greatest impact on my love for academia and my interest in the politics of urban education. I am further indebted to my special friends and cohorts, Marion Orr and Kevin Lyles, who have kept my eyes on the prize, and to my colleagues at the University of Illinois at Chicago, Professors Dick Simpson and Evan McKenzie. I also have been blessed with the loving support of my best friend and comrade, Karin L. Stanford. My family has been a constant, unwavering source of invaluable support. My mother, Grace Johnson, my brother, William Johnson Jr., and my father, William Johnson Sr., have seen me through the ups and downs and the stress and frustration of writing my first book. I am blessed to have them in my life. I believe, though, that my greatest inspiration in life has been my maternal grandmother, Wilma Heffney (1900–1969). Although I was only eight years old when she died, she left lasting impressions on my heart and soul, particularly her love for and trust in God the almighty, from whom all blessings flow.

xi


11

8/13/02, 9:40 PM



12

8/13/02, 9:40 PM

Chapter One


In 1994, the voters of Prince George’s County, Maryland, elected Wayne Curry as their first African-American county executive. The election of African Americans to positions of power is certainly not new, however, Curry’s election to the top elective position in the county signaled a turning point. For African-American Prince Georgians, Curry’s election represented the long-awaited finale to their thirty-plus-year quest for control over the county’s governing apparatus. For those who study urban/suburban politics and demographics, Curry’s election represented the complete transformation of suburban Prince George’s County from a predominantly white enclave of the nation’s capital to a premier majority African-American suburb, and one of the largest concentrations of African-American affluence in the nation. Although home to a large African-American middle class, Prince George’s County can be likened to a tale of two cities, one affluent and the other one poor. Nonetheless, Curry’s victory was largely viewed as a group victory. In 1994, having recently become a numerical majority in the county, African Americans coveted the opportunity to finally elect one of their own to a position of prominence. When one considers the range of interests among African Americans in Prince George’s County, the notion of a group victory is puzzling. However, African Americans in Prince George’s County are not unique in their predilection to view the first-time election of an African-American as a group victory or, in this case, as a sign of group political incorporation. Although conceptually ambiguous, terms such as African-American community or African-American political incorporation are continually evoked, erroneously creating an image of a monolithic African-American community.1

1

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

1

8/13/02, 9:18 PM

2

AFRICAN-AMERICAN SUBURBAN POLITICAL INCORPORATION

To be sure, African Americans do not share the same experiences, nor do they possess the same socioeconomic or political interests. This fact is perhaps most compelling in suburban Prince George’s County, given its unique demographic makeup, where socioeconomic disparity among African Americans is as great as that between African Americans and whites. Nonetheless, AfricanAmerican leaders consistently express the need for a unified “black agenda.” The media speak of the “black community” and “black political leaders,” and scholars discuss “black political incorporation” and “black political power,” as if the political and socioeconomic ascension of a segment of the African-American population represents political and socioeconomic power for all African Americans. Prince George’s County’s transformation presents a unique opportunity to reexamine our conceptualization of group political incorporation. It also presents a laboratory to study African-American migration from the inner city into the suburbs; the openness of suburban governing coalitions and structures as African-American populations increase; African-American mobilization efforts to become a part of suburban governing coalitions; and, most significant, the impact of class interests on African Americans’ ability to press forward a policy agenda in suburbia. The history of African Americans presents numerous examples of unified political action. The Montgomery Bus Boycott, the march across the Edmond Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama, and the 1963 March on Washington are just a few. History is replete with political events that have exhibited AfricanAmerican solidarity in the fight for basic civil and political rights. What happens, however, when gains have been made in the quest for basic civil and political rights? Are African Americans any more likely than other racial and ethnic groups to unify behind a policy or an issue, despite the impact on their particular individual social and class interests? This book addresses these questions by examining the factors that impede African-American political representation and the policy positions that African Americans advance in the education arena in suburbia. It also presents a model of African-American political incorporation that takes into account African-American socioeconomic diversity and competing interests. Education policy is a significant policy area to examine, because it has been a political battleground for groups seeking to either alter or maintain their socioeconomic position within the American political economy. It also is significant to a study of suburbia because of its effects on the migration patterns of whites in the city and in racially transformed suburbs. This analysis covers the 1971–1994 period in Prince George’s County, Maryland. This period is significant because it surveys the rise of AfricanAmerican political representation and activism in the educational arena. In 1971, a group of African Americans joined with the local chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) to

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

2

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


3

file suit in federal court, challenging the county’s system of segregated schools. In 1994, African Americans won the highest political office in the suburban county, and majority representation on the board of education. An analysis of the period following the 1994 Curry victory is presented in the epilogue.

THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN SUBURBANIZATION Despite growth over the past thirty years, African-American suburbanization is not new. Although the latest stage of African-American suburbanization is markedly different from previous periods, African Americans have lived in suburban communities since the 1920s. During the 1920–1970 period, however, African-American suburbs were either poor or working-class jurisdictions. Poor African-American suburban communities were underdeveloped and often unincorporated areas on the city’s periphery, with a limited tax base for adequate schools and government services. These communities typically lacked adequate water and sewage infrastructure and were more similar to poor African-American urban communities than to white suburban communities. As J. John Palen notes, “while such small communities were technically in the suburbs, socially and economically they were not of the suburbs.”2 Solidly working-class African-American suburbs were one step above poor African-American suburbs. Examples of this type of suburban community include Robbins and Harvey in the southwest suburbs of Chicago. Although different, both types of early African-American suburbs stood in direct contrast to the typical image of white, middle-class, homogeneous, suburban communities. Although the word “suburb” continues to evoke images of economic, social, and racial homogeneity, suburbs are just as diverse as the cities that they surround.3 This is particularly true for black suburbs. As Harrigan (1993) notes, African-American suburbs vary in socioeconomic status, from those comprising old, previously rural communities, to those that are affluent, to those that are mere extensions of the inner-city communities that they border.4 The factors that precipitated African-American and white suburbanization were as distinctive as the suburbs that they initially occupied. White suburban migration was greatly enhanced and facilitated by the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) loans, established by the National Housing Act of 1934, and Veterans Administration (VA) loans, which were made available to GIs returning home from World War II. Both housing policies established federally guaranteed low down payment long-term mortgages. These programs were in direct contrast to high down payment short-term mortgages that made early home ownership difficult.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

3

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

4


Although the express purpose of the two federal housing policies was to jump-start the housing industry, features of the legislation promoted the construction of homes outside of the inner city. Title I of the Housing Act of 1934, for example, provided FHA insurance for loans to repair and renovate existing housing stock in the city. Section 503 of the Housing Act, on the other hand, provided FHA loans for the construction of new one to four family units. Between 1935 and 1974, 75 percent of the total FHA insured home mortgages went for new housing construction.5 The disparities that existed in support of the two loan programs were the result of FHA bias toward housing construction in economically sound neighborhoods. Considering the dilapidated conditions of urban neighborhoods, this bias basically guaranteed that new housing would be built outside of the inner city, far away from African Americans and other poor minorities who were viewed as a bane to property values. Even more exclusionary in impact, however, was the FHA promotion of racial covenants that barred the sale of housing to nonwhites.6 Despite the U.S. Supreme Court decision in Shelley v. Kraemer (1948), declaring racial covenants legally unenforceable, racial discrimination in housing continued relatively unabated until the fair housing provision of the Civil Rights Act of 1968. By 1970, mass, white suburbanization had become a reality. The 1970 census of the population was the first to show that a majority of Americans lived outside of the inner city. However, the bulk of suburbanization was white, while African Americans, other minorities, and poor whites were primarily confined to the inner city. After World War II, the migration of African Americans and other poor minorities to northern and Midwestern cities set off a chain reaction of white flight from the city. While the cities represented the Promised Land for minority and poor city migrants looking for better paying jobs and a better life, the lure of the suburbs represented the Promised Land for whites. School integration and busing only exacerbated the white flight to the suburbs. Images of urban poverty and slums were juxtaposed in the American psyche with those of tranquil, tree-lined, suburban communities. The common perception was that movement to the suburbs would offer whites a safe haven from the ills associated with rising urban crime and poverty, and would provide them with a better life for their families. In many ways, this common perception created a self-fulfilling prophecy as city tax coffers were drained of needed resources, and strong and viable communities began to crop up outside of the city limits. Although the 1968 Fair Housing Act greatly facilitated African-American suburbanization, other forms of housing discrimination continued to thwart equal access to housing in the suburbs. While legally sanctioned discrimination had abated, it continued, infact, through practices such as racial steering,

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

4

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


5

which directed African Americans away from white areas. As a result of Title VIII of the 1968 Fair Housing Act, however, those African Americans who could afford to began to move outside of the city and were no longer confined to African-American poor and working-class suburbs.7 Once it began, African-American suburban migration grew at accelerating rates. During the decade of the 1970s, the number of African Americans living in the suburbs increased by 50 percent.8 As it had for whites in previous decades, African-American movement to the suburbs became a status symbol and held promises of better housing and educational opportunities for AfricanAmerican children.9 Although this migration wreaked further havoc on the amount of resources available for city services, for those moderate and middle-income African Americans who were able to move, it was an opportunity to share in the rich public resources seemingly available in the suburbs. The reception that African Americans received in the suburbs, however, was chilly at best. The same factors that drove mass white migration away from the city were renewed as African Americans moved to predominantly white suburban communities. As it had been in urban jurisdictions, the integration of public schools again became a contentious issue. As African Americans settled in inner-tier suburbs such as Prince George’s County, they immediately sought political influence within suburban governing coalitions. And as they had previously in the city, African Americans also began to attack barriers to socioeconomic opportunity in the suburbs.

REPRESENTATION VERSUS POLITICAL INCORPORATION If achieving political incorporation were simply a matter of representation on policy-making bodies, it would surely seem that African Americans in Prince George’s County are well on their way. But political incorporation is much more tangible than representation on policy-making bodies. It also entails the ability to become an integral part of policy-making coalitions that promote the interests of a particular constituency. Although representation on policymaking bodies is an important prerequisite to political incorporation, on its face it does not guarantee influence over the policy-making apparatus. As numerous urban case studies attest, the quest for political incorporation by newly emerging groups typically encounters resistance, and often it entails changing the existing governing coalition to one that is more amenable to power and resource sharing. Although newly emerging groups promote representation to advance their interests, the battle does not end there. As Mack H. Jones (1978) argues, there is a difference “between having power, political and otherwise, and being associated with those who have it;

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

5

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

6


between participating in the decision process and actually influencing the outcome of that process; and between the symbolic trappings of political power and political power itself.”10 Bachrach and Baratz (1970) also make a distinction between power and influence in the decision-making process. They argue that investigators place too much emphasis on decision making, ignoring the real power that exists in non-decision making—or the extent to which power is inherent in the ability to limit the scope of what is placed on the public agenda, or to influence the type of policy that is recognized as negotiable.11 They maintain that there are two faces of power. The most significant often is less apparent, and it entails the ability to influence community values and political procedures and rituals, and to reinforce barriers to the public airing of policy conflict.12 Both the Jones and Bachrach and Baratz formulations are typically applied to the contest between distinct groups with competing interests. Nevertheless, they are also applicable to the contestation of competing interests within groups, particularly a socioeconomically diverse group such as African Americans. Reed (1999) argues that the “black community” “is a reification that at most expresses the success of some interest networks in articulating their interpretations and programs and asserting them in the name of the group.”13 Therefore, what often are presented as “black interests” are the distinct interests of a segment of the African-American community—those who have been most successful in articulating their claims. To determine the conditions that impact on African-American political incorporation, it is first and foremost necessary to define what “black interests” are, an undertaking that is typically ignored in most analyses of AfricanAmerican politics. Are there any authentic black interests among a socioeconomically diverse community of African Americans in suburbia? Unless “black interests” pertain solely to issues related to civil rights or racial equality (issues that affect all African Americans), it would seem that one segment of the African-American community would have to subordinate its interests in service to the aims of another. Reed argues that there is conceptual inadequacy in the “presumption that there are, or can be, authentic or automatically discernible community interests and that, therefore, political legitimacy rests on appeal to such interests.”14 To this extent, when we study the policy interests of the African-American community, it is necessary to discern whether the policy, or the action that proceeds from it, proportionally influences all group members. Every political organization holds a set of biases or interests that forms the basis of its political struggle with competing interests. This is as true for

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

6

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


7

African Americans as it is for other groups. As E.E. Schattschneider (1983) argues, “organization is itself a mobilization of bias in preparation for action.”15 Schattschneider maintains that: the pressure system makes sense only as the political instrument of a segment of the community. It gets results by being selective and biased; if everybody got into the act, the unique advantages of this form of organization would be destroyed, for it is possible that if all interests could be mobilized the result would be a stalemate.16 Some interests become the foundation by which other interests are either addressed or suppressed. This holds true not only in competition between groups but also within groups. In their study of minority political incorporation in ten Northern California cities, Browning, Marshall, and Tabb (1984) recognize a middle range in which political incorporation is not complete, and where minority political participation in a biracial coalition may result in co-optation.17 While the authors maintain that protest is not enough, it also is clear that representation alone is not enough to secure substantive “group” gains. Some interests are addressed, while others are suppressed.

THE ORIGINS OF “BLACK INTERESTS” The rise and the articulation of an authentic “black interest” date back to the turn of the twentieth century, at a time when the nature of the challenge posed by disenfranchisement and the consolidation of the Jim Crow order exerted an understandable pressure toward a defensive and group-conscious orientation that also buttressed [black] elite interpretations and programs. . . . The totalistic nature of the white supremacist threat, which in principle affected all black people equally, buttressed the impetus to craft singular racial agendas.18 Although the concept has little to no basis in political reality, as Reed asserts, its use continues today, setting “the terms of mainstream black political debate.”19 In this context, black interests are promoted on the basis of whatever official black representatives say they are. Black leaders’ hegemonic control of corporate black interests, argues Reed, allows them to utilize the “moral force of racial populism,” even when it undermines black grassroots efforts.20 It is out of this orientation of black politics that concepts such as African-American political incorporation or African-American policy influence

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

7

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

8


have grown. If African-American political incorporation entails the ability to advance African-American interests, then it stands to reason that full African-American political incorporation can only take place when all African Americans within the community share the same interests and are working in a cohesive manner toward the same goals. As in the Jim Crow South, this may be easier to accomplish when the policy to be advanced relates to basic civil rights such as voting or equal public accommodations—issues that create the potential for group socioeconomic or political exclusion. Conversely, full group political incorporation may be difficult to accomplish when the issue disproportionately influences socioeconomic standing. Policy is never neutral but is biased in the interest of some at the expense of others. This holds true within and outside of the African-American community.

TOWARD A MODEL OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN SUBURBAN POLITICAL INCORPORATION An accurate model of African-American political incorporation must examine internal and external factors— the pattern of relationships and the interaction within and outside of the African-American community. Internal and external factors affect the African-American community’s ability to elect African Americans to political office, and the policy positions emanating from the African-American community. External factors relate to patterns of interaction and relationships outside of the African-American community. They include the availability of allies to assist in the formation of a challenging coalition and the subsequent position of African Americans within the newly formed coalition; the strength, stability, and practices of the existing coalition; and/or external pressures arising from the court system or federal government mandates. Internal factors relate to patterns of interaction and relationships within the African-American community. Because the African-American community is so diverse, one of the most significant internal variables is the type of policy or issue under consideration, and the impact that it has on the lives and aspirations of various segments within the African-American community. Again, when a policy is set forth as one that is “in the interest of the AfricanAmerican community,” one must ascertain which socioeconomic segment of the population it impacts and/or whether the impact is proportional across socioeconomic subgroups. Other internal variables include African-American population size and the socioeconomic and organizational resources within the African-American community.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

8

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


9

The Impact of Population Size The size of the African-American population has an impact on African Americans’ ability to win elective offices and on the response to their policy positions and demands. In his seminal study on the impact of AfricanAmerican voting in Tuskegee, Alabama, and Durham, North Carolina, William Keech (1968) observes that until African Americans made up a majority of the population, they were unable to win significant political gains in Tuskegee, Alabama. Similar public-sector progress, however, occurred in Durham, North Carolina, even though the African-American population was proportionally smaller.21 The differences were attributed to the varying responses of the politically dominant white population. In Tuskegee, African Americans were confronted with a white community that was resistant to relinquishing political power. In Durham, the white community did not view the smaller African-American community as a political threat, and thus, it was more willing to allow changes in the distribution of public-sector goods. Differences between the white community’s response in Durham and Tuskegee also can be attributed, in part, to the more entrenched racism of the Deep South.22 James Button (1989) supports Keech’s claim that a relationship exists between the relative size of the African-American population and gains made in the public sector. Button maintains that while improvements in AfricanAmerican employment or protective services were usually greatest in majority African-American communities, cities with medium and low percentages of African Americans typically experienced few differences in the level of service improvements.23 Both studies recognize the existence of a middle range of a relative African-American population at which whites feel most threatened and resist African-American service demands. Lawrence J. Hanks’ (1987) study on the struggle for African-American political empowerment in three Georgia counties also asserts the importance of population size. Through case studies of Hancock, Peach, and Clay counties Hanks examines the significance of leadership, organization, and resources in the African-American political empowerment process. His study of Hancock County depicts how, among other factors, an overwhelming African-American population was necessary in order to defeat white racial bloc voting, and to overcome low levels of African-American voter participation. According to Hanks, for African-American officials, the African-American vote, and thus a significant African-American population, becomes the sole support base for empowerment.24 Many studies agree that, once elected, African-American officials have a positive effect on public employment, recreational services, and police and fire safety.25 African-American representation on policy-making bodies also has a

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

9

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

10


positive impact on the ability to garner sensitivity for African-American interests from white cohorts.26 According to Button (1989), representation gave African-Americans easy, constant, and relatively quick access to the decisionmaking arena and to white leaders, both public and private.27 Preston (1990) notes that “not only have African-American mayors actively recruited African Americans, Hispanics, and women, they have [also] hired large numbers of them.”28 African-American mayors also have been relatively successful in dispensing city contracts to members of the AfricanAmerican community.29 According to William E. Nelson Jr. (1990), “the outstanding record of legislative achievements compiled by African-American mayors over the past twenty years clearly establishes the fact that African-American mayoral offices are not hollow prizes.”30 These authors address the extent to which African-American mayors have accommodated African-American interests. The question is, however, “whose interests?” Have all African Americans benefited proportionately? Have poor African Americans’ interests been subordinated to the interests of the African-American middle class? Surely poor African Americans have not benefited as much from policies pertaining to affirmative action and contracts, however, again we see the tendency to lump all African-American interests together. While some studies extol the virtues of African-American representation on the life chances of African Americans, others argue that it does little to decrease the socioeconomic disparities that exist between African Americans and whites.31 Preston (1990) notes that several AfricanAmerican mayors start out as community activists fighting against the politics of exclusion. Later, however, they lose their vitality to attack new problems with the same vigor.32 According to Preston, “the new problems of gangs, drug warfare, homelessness, and the need for low-income housing, to name only a few, are difficult problems with regional, state, and national implications.”33 In line with Preston, Nelson (1990) notes that “despite the heroic effort of African-American mayors, the urban agenda for African-Americans remains unfinished,” and that “African-American mayors have not eliminated the social, economic, and political crisis faced by African Americans in America.”34 Nelson attributes their limited success to several factors. Most prominent is the inability of African-American mayors to live up to the dictates of progressive politics, and to “move the quest for African-American political incorporation beyond the narrow confines of elected office.”35 Again, we see that representation alone is not enough. In order to represent their constituency effectively, elected officials must advance a policy that is in the interest of that constituency.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

10

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


11

According to Nelson, African-American mayoral candidates have a tendency to enter “into coalitions with conservative white-led political organizations [and] to block the election of race-oriented African Americans.” These practices, Nelson argues, can be attributed to the unwillingness of new African-American leaders to directly confront and challenge the system of racial subordination that is pervasive in the political system.36 It also may be a manifestation of the extent to which group interests are subordinated to particular interests once gains have been made. Socioeconomic Resources Whether the issue is greater accountability of African-American representatives, or overcoming the resilience of an opposing established organization, much of what occurs is decidedly predicated upon the socioeconomic resources available within the African-American community. As Clarence Stone (1989) argues in his study of Atlanta, votes count, but resources decide. The power to govern depends on the ability to assemble vital resources. 37 While population size is important to representation, and representation is important to the decision-making process, the amount of available resources determines what gets done. And what gets done often is a matter of what can occur within the boundaries of existing institutional arrangements. Socioeconomic resources can have a dual impact on African Americans’ quest for political incorporation. On the one hand, it may predispose governing officials to favor some interests over others, particularly those that are more in line with existing power arrangements.38 As Stone notes, public officials operate in an environment that rewards them for cooperating with upper strata interests and often penalizes them for cooperating with lower strata interests. Systemic bias ultimately raises the opportunity cost for poorer groups to have their interests addressed within the political system.39 Barring extenuating circumstances, it is predictable that middle-class, African-American interests will prevail, particularly in an affluent suburban jurisdiction. Second, socioeconomic resources within the African-American community will likely have an impact on the type of interests and policy positions that are advanced within the political system. If the level of socioeconomic resources is homogeneous, then group identity or consciousness will likely be present—group members probably will view their position and interests in the same manner. If, on the other hand, socioeconomic resources are skewed, as in the case of Prince George’s County, group members may view their positions and interests differently.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

11

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

12


Organizational Resources The level of group identity or consciousness determines the level of organizational resources available to a group. Group consciousness promotes unified action, and unified action, regardless of the issue or goal, is the most significant organizational resource that a group can possess. In their award-winning book, Protest Is Not Enough (1984), Browning, Marshall, and Tabb examine the optimal conditions for minority political incorporation. In doing so, they stress the importance of electoral effort to minorities’ ability to promote change in the policy-making process. They maintain that protest, while sometimes a successful strategy, is not enough but must be sufficiently coupled with “electoral organizing, the traditional political activity of recruiting candidates, controlling the number who run, and developing support and coalitions.”40 The authors illustrate the significance of cohesiveness and unity in the African-American quest for electoral representation: We were able to establish the agreement that if one African-American candidate was selected by the caucus, the others would not run, since there would be white candidates in the field. More than one African-American candidate would practically insure the election of no African-American candidates.41 Similarly, in his study on the impact of the civil rights movement in Southern communities, James Button (1989) notes that many African-American representatives reported that conflict within and lack of cooperation from the African-American community itself often were major impediments to more effective public service. While the African-American community provides unified support behind the first African-American candidates, their unity and support often fractionalized after this goal was accomplished, denying minority candidates and incumbents the unified racial support necessary for election victory.42 An alternative description is that the tendency toward division is nothing more than competing interests exerting themselves when basic group goals have been accomplished. To suggest that a departure from the group represents division is to obscure the nature of politics and competing interests. In his examination of suburban Riviera Beach, Button describes how early African-American political incorporation was brought about by mobilization and protest strategies. Later, however, after years of hegemony, African-American political power was lost as a result of “corruption, factionalism and conflicts among African Americans.”43 As a result of growing stagnation and apathy in the majority African-American community, conservative whites

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

12

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


13

were able to take advantage of African-American divisions and to overthrow the African-American governing coalition in power.44 The disunity described by Button can be attributed to the growing frustration of the African-American community when African-American elected officials are unable to fulfill their campaign promises.45 Again, conflict also may arise when there are different opinions within the African-American community regarding the best policy objectives to be pursued. This is more likely to occur within a socioeconomically diverse community. While policy type, population size, socioeconomic resources of AfricanAmerican group members, and the organizational resources within the African-American community address the internal factors that are significant to African-American political incorporation, political incorporation does not occur within a vacuum. External factors determine the degree of resistance or receptivity that the African-American community will encounter in its quest to elect representatives and to advance policy. External factors include the ability to ally with other groups; the strength, stability, and practices of the dominant political organization; and external pressures from the court system and/or federal government mandates. The Impact of Coalitions In their analysis of ten Northern California cities where African Americans were a minority, Browning, Marshall, and Tabb (1984) found that overcoming white resistance to African-American political demands depended on the replacement of conservative coalitions with strong, challenging, liberal coalitions. According to the authors, when liberal coalitions that included minorities successfully challenged conservative coalitions, significant policy change occurred in favor of minority interests.46 Biracial liberal alliances, assert the authors, provide the strongest form of African-American political incorporation. Conversely, African-American protest strategies lead to greater resistance by whites and to continued exclusion.47 Coalitions with liberal whites, however, are not in and of themselves a panacea to the African-American community. Contrary to the claims of Browning, Marshall and Tabb, some have noted that once conservative coalitions have been overthrown, a clash of interests often erupts between African Americans and liberal whites. According to Raphael Sonenshein (1990), “when the minority struggle for political representation directly threatens the interests of liberal whites, the odds of biracial politics ought to decline.”48 Accordingly, “even the strongest ideology is unlikely to become a formula for a persistent reduction in self interest.”49 Similarly, Carmichael and Hamilton (1967) argue that liberal whites “are unreliable allies when a conflict of inter-

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

13

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

14


est arises. Morality and sentiment” they maintain, “cannot weather such conflicts.”50 Contrary to Browning, Marshall, and Tabb, James Button’s examination of six Florida communities attributes greater success to protest strategies in their ability to mobilize African Americans and to provide a disruptive challenge to private-sector discrimination. Button found that in cities where majority African-American populations had not developed their own dominant ruling groups, liberal coalitions were rarely dominant, or African-American elected officials had difficulty gaining access to such groups.51 Thus, for Button, the absence or lack of receptivity of liberal whites precluded opportunities to form biracial liberal coalitions. Claude Barnes’ study of Atlanta points to the distinct differences in the political empowerment of poor and middle-class African Americans in Atlanta. Similar to Barnes’ assessment, Clarence Stone (1989) found that Atlanta’s strong biracial coalition between whites and middle-class African Americans was based less on ideology than the African-American middle class’ ability to assemble resources that were valuable to the governing coalition. Stone notes, “democratic politics mirrors resource inequalities.”52 While middle-class African Americans were afforded a place in the city’s governing coalition, poorer African Americans and neighborhood organizations were excluded. In this instance, the capacity to develop “norms of mutual support” was far more important than ideology. As Stone notes, “Atlanta’s African-American middle class, with its rich network of organizations and its substantial store of civic skills, was able to bring off an immediate and substantial voter mobilization,”53 a resource that poorer African Americans and neighborhood groups were unable to assemble. Atlanta has been referred to as a Black Mecca as a result of AfricanAmerican, middle-class membership in the governing coalition. This description is, however, overshadowed by the high rate of poverty among African Americans in Atlanta. The Atlanta case represents a perfect example of how African-American political incorporation may not represent the advancement of all African-American interests within a given community. While Atlanta has a tradition of biracial cooperation, localities without the potential for strong alliances are likely to confront a resistant governing coalition. Among other factors, Doug McAdam’s (1982) study on AfricanAmerican insurgency argues that the structure of political opportunities available to insurgent groups is crucial to the generation of social insurgency.54 The political opportunities available are largely determined by the strength, stability, and practices of the dominant governing coalition. Barring intervention, an existing coalition may be able to maintain its position of dominance over emerging groups indefinitely, particularly if the emerging group lacks organizational resources or effective allies.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

14

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


15

The Strength, Stability, and Practices of the Dominant Governing Coalition Challenges pose a threat to existing institutional arrangements and embody an explicit demand for more influence in the decision-making process. It is expected that elites will utilize a variety of tactics in their attempts to maintain the status quo. These strategies may include divide-and-conquer tactics, as well as the co-optation of excluded group leaders and their demands into the routine channels of public policymaking. The success of elite strategies, however, is dependent upon the stability of the established organization. When one political party dominates, as in the case of Prince George’s County, the established organization is vulnerable to penetration resulting from disunity and fragmentation.55 As V.O. Key notes, “in a loose, catch-as-catch can politics highly unstable coalitions must be held together by whatever means is available.”56 As it relates to the inclusion of challengers, African Americans have an opportunity in a “loose, catch-as-catch can” environment to break the stalemate between competing factions. But this also may lead to co-optation rather than the furtherance of a group goal. Typically factions within a party are less the result of issue conflicts and instead, based on voter grouping, the composition of leadership (essentially personalities), or localism.57 Issue articulation and competition are most likely to take place in a two-party atmosphere. The factionalism of one-party states generally impedes the ability of a sustained programmatic theme. For example, Key notes that in a sense the absence of issues comes from the fact that these groups are unchallenged; when someone stirs the masses issues become sharper. Under such a chaotic factionalism, it is impossible to make any rational explanation of how the people of a state vote in terms of interest. They are whipped from position to position by appeals irrelevant to any fundamental interest. A loose factional system lacks the power to carry out sustained programs of action, which almost always are thought by the better element to be contrary to its immediate interests.58 Although factionalism may facilitate infiltration, it becomes a hollow prize for infiltrators, because the type of issue articulation necessary to promote change is simply not present unless the emerging group has tremendous resources. William Grimshaw’s (1992) study of the relationship between African Americans and the Chicago political machine is a prime example of cooptation as a strategy to undermine the interest articulation of emerging groups. Grimshaw describes how poor African Americans were co-opted by

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

15

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

16


the Daley machine after middle-class African Americans moved to more affluent areas of Chicago. Although it could surely be said that African Americans formed coalitions with the Daley machine, this coalition by no means represented poor African-American interests.59 Further, although African Americans fulfilled the interests of the machine, they did not receive any real influence. External Pressure from the Court System or Federal Government Mandates African Americans have faced intense resistance to change and have historically depended upon external pressure from the courts or the federal government. External pressures have resulted in more policy influence than would have likely occurred if it were absent. The civil rights movement is a case in point. Until federal pressure was placed on Southern whites, African Americans’ quest for political empowerment was largely stalemated. The Civil Rights Act (1964) and subsequent amendments, the Voting Rights Act (1965), and Brown v. Board of Education (1954) are three significant examples of how external pressure can pose a significant, viable challenge to the status quo. As Figure 1.1 illustrates, African-American suburban political incorporation is predicated upon factors that are internal and external to the AfricanAmerican community. But perhaps most significant is the type of policy under consideration and the disproportionate impact that it has on segments of the community. All of these factors taken together focus attention on the patterns of interaction and transaction within the African-American community; between African-American and white political elites; and with political elites who are external to the community at large (state and federal governmental actors). These factors also focus attention on the impact that AfricanAmerican socioeconomic diversity has on representation and policy positions advanced by African Americans within a suburban jurisdiction. Taking African-American socioeconomic variance into account allows an examination of how segments of the population are acted on differently and is a complete divergence from the common practice of lumping together those whose interests are not advanced with those whose interests are truly incorporated.

RESEARCH STRATEGY This book relies on several sources of information: (1) semistructured interviews with African-American elected and appointed officials who were in office during the period of study and with African-American civic and community

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

16

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

Figure 1.1 A Model of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation African-American Suburban Political Incorporation is predicated upon

• The Type of Policy in Question • Universal (civil rights/race based) • Class based • Proportion of African Americans in the Population

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

• Socioeconomic Resources of African-American Population • Income • Education • Occupation • Organizational Resources of the African-American Population • Mobilizing to elect African Americans • Establishing a cohesive policy agenda

a combination of internal and external factors: pattern of relationships and interaction inside and outside of the African-American community

EXTERNAL FACTORS • The Availability of Allies to form coalitions and African Americans’ Position in the Coalition • The Strength, Stability, and Practices of the Dominant Coalition • Pressure from the Court System or State or Federal Government Mandates


17

INTERNAL FACTORS

17

18


leaders; (2) local and community newspapers; and (3) public documents and the transcripts of hearings and meetings of policy-making boards, departments, and committees relevant to education policy. The research chronicles the rise of African-American representation (elected and appointed) and policy positions that were advanced in the education arena. Group resources are significant to efforts to elect African Americans and to the policy positions that are set forth. Significant group organizational resources include mobilization efforts and policy unity. As mentioned, unified group political action is not always likely within a socioeconomically diverse group. Nonetheless, it represents a significant group organization resource that can facilitate group goals. Mobilization is measured by the presence of activities and efforts undertaken to elect and appoint African Americans to policy-making posts. A high degree of consensus for a particular candidate or set of candidates is implicit in the concept of mobilization. Thus mobilization also entails the presence of efforts designed to reach a consensus over who will run for office. These efforts may include endorsements from key African-American community leaders and organizations. Equally important is the level of cohesiveness that is exhibited on major policy issues. Consensus must be fostered toward particular policy initiatives, goals, and strategies if group goals are to be enhanced. Again, policy consensus may not be possible in an arena of competing interests, however, it is nonetheless a significant organizational goal. Cohesiveness is measured by the degree of unity exhibited behind a particular policy or issue. The existence of cohesiveness entails appeals to the African-American community eliciting unity in its support of policy demands, and the extent to which an overwhelming majority of group members have agreed on a particular course of action, or a particular policy demand. The term policy demand here is defined as educational programs or proposals that organizations or individuals initiate and attempt to implement in order to eliminate existing educational disparities. A measure of policy demands that address educational disparities will be the extent to which the policy demand actually offers straightforward, direct, and nonambiguous solutions. Examples of these type of policies would be those that create programs that attempt to raise test scores, decrease dropout rates, and eliminate the disparities existing in the amount of resources available to African-American and white public school students. The study does not attempt to measure the outcomes of various policies but rather to identify those policies that seek to reconcile disparities. Another important factor relating to the treatment of policy demands is the extent to which programs that are initiated and implemented are symbolic

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

18

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


19

in nature rather than substantive. Policy demands that do not directly address educational disparities are not included in the study, however, an attempt is made to include all of those policy demands that African-American officials and community members believe are an effective tool to eliminating educational disparities. The greatest limitation of the research is the single case study method. Although Prince George’s County meets the criteria of a suburban jurisdiction with a sizable African-American population, it is not necessarily typical of other African-American suburban jurisdictions across the country. As it relates to the standard criteria, Prince George’s County, Maryland, is a jurisdiction outlying a central city—Washington, D.C. Although Prince George’s County is politically autonomous, it is economically and socially integrated with Washington, D.C. Like other suburbs across the country, the growth of Prince George’s County, Maryland, resulted from several factors working in tandem. These factors include: (1) technological advances that allowed people to commute further distances to their jobs in the central city; (2) federal and state government highway construction, and the federal provision of long-term, lowinterest home mortgages (FHA and VA); and (3) a desire to escape the central city. Another limitation of this book is that the use of the single case study method precludes comparisons between suburban jurisdictions. The most that is attempted here is a comparison of socioeconomic characteristics with Montgomery County, Maryland, a neighboring Washington, D.C., suburban jurisdiction. Comparisons between Montgomery County and Prince George’s County help place Prince George’s County in context. Comparisons of the two counties also avoid cumbersome cross-analyses of jurisdictions that do not share similar levels of political authority. Where applicable, however, parallels are drawn between Prince George’s County and a central city— Baltimore, Maryland. Only one central city comparison is offered, however, because the research is mostly concerned with what is likely to occur in suburban jurisdictions where a significant population of affluent African Americans resides. Despite the limitations, this book begins to fill the void of theoretical analysis on the growing phenomenon of African-American suburbanization. Little is known about how suburban governments respond to the recent and growing migration of African Americans outside of the inner city. This book also begins to reformulate our common conceptions of minority communities as socioeconomic and political monoliths, and it allows us to examine the impact of class on African-American representation and policy positions. The suburbs represent a relatively new laboratory in which to examine African-American politics, however, it is by no means expected to be exempt

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

19

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

20


from some of the exigencies of urban politics. While some peculiarities are expected, this book parallels some important concepts from urban analyses of African-American political incorporation. Although most, if not all, of the urban minority incorporation literature treats African-American political empowerment as an all-encompassing group prize, it nonetheless points to significant internal and external factors impacting on African-American political influence.

PLAN OF THE BOOK In chapter 2, I discuss the history and politics of Prince George’s County and its relationship to the African-American community. Machine and postmachine politics in Prince George’s County facilitated African-American migration to the county and inclusion into the governing coalition. Chapter 3 looks at the social and economic condition of African-American and white Prince Georgians in comparison to their counterparts nationally, in Montgomery County, Maryland, and in Baltimore. Although African Americans in Prince George’s County are affluent relative to the AfricanAmerican population in the United States, they have not reached socioeconomic parity with their white counterparts in the county; there also are considerable disparities within the African-American community. In chapter 4, I address the thirty-plus-year quest for African-American representation in the county. African Americans in Prince George’s County have utilized a number of strategies to increase African-American representation, however, there have been several instances where the African-American community has failed to reach consensus. Unsuccessful mobilization efforts have primarily resulted from a lack of consensus within the African-American community and the practices of the white-controlled governing coalition. The standard reason that African Americans have failed to reach consensus behind a particular candidate has been varying perceptions about the candidate’s socioeconomic class interests. Chapter 5 examines the African-American quest for key political appointments. Socioeconomic status again played a role in the level of support that candidates for key appointments received. The split in support for elected officials and appointees over time created two camps within the AfricanAmerican community that mirror the distinct split within the whitecontrolled political organization. In chapter 6, I explore the politics of suburban education. Education policy has been a contentious policy area in urban and suburban settings. The affluence of African-American Prince Georgians seemingly makes them less likely to encounter the resistance to integration that their urban brethren

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

20

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


21

encountered. This is not the case, however. Not only were there sharp education policy conflicts between whites and African Americans but also within the African-American community. Chapter 7 summarizes the preceding chapters. Despite the presence of African-American affluence in suburban Prince George’s County, Maryland, the African-American community is not a monolith. Socioeconomic disparities among African Americans thwart mobilization efforts in the electoral and education policy arenas. Nonetheless, significant disparities exist between African Americans and whites that seemingly necessitate a concerted effort from the African-American community. The first step toward African-American suburban political incorporation is to recognize the realities of internal and external factors that impact on it, and to work within the framework of these realities toward establishing more democratic arrangements. Chapter 8, the epilogue, surveys the county’s socioeconomic and political trends after 1994, the outcome of its twenty-five-year desegregation order, and African Americans’ thirty-year quest for political incorporation.

32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

21

8/13/02, 9:19 PM


32903_SP_JOH_CH01_001-022

22

8/13/02, 9:19 PM

Chapter Two

Prince George’s County Politics and the African-American Migration

A BRIEF HISTORY OF PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY Prince George’s County, named for Prince George of Denmark, was established on April 23,1696. Like most Southern communities, the history of Prince George’s County is traceable to the culture of the old plantation South. Prince George’s fertile soil was suitable for the cultivation of many agricultural products, such as wheat and corn; however, tobacco served as its chief commodity prior to the Civil War.1 As was typical across the South, Prince George’s County also was dependent on slave labor to cultivate its agriculture. Many African-American Prince Georgians of today can trace their roots to former slaves who, like other forms of property, were regularly sold and exchanged for paper money, silver, tobacco, or on credit in markets in Upper Marlboro, currently the seat of county government.2 At the turn of the nineteenth century, there were over 790 slave owners in Prince George’s County out of a total population of 21,185 persons (8,346 white, and 12,839 black). Although blacks outnumbered whites, like elsewhere, the rigid codes of slavery kept the black population subordinate.3 Free blacks resided in Prince George’s County, however, as mandated by the Act of 1783, they could not vote, hold office, or possess any other right, other than property rights and redress of law for injury to person or damage to property. Despite these restrictions, free blacks were able to establish viable communities in Rossville, Valley Lane, and Oxon Hill, marking the formal creation of black communities in Prince George’s County.4 23

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

23

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

24

PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY

After the Civil War and the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment, former slaves in Prince George’s County began a new life elsewhere. Those former slaves who remained in the county became farmers, laborers, tenant farmers, or sharecroppers on the old plantations.5 Following the ratification of the Fifteenth Amendment in 1870, the Republican Party embraced black voters, sowing the seeds of African-American political life in Prince George’s County. As we will see in Chapter 4, however, the early days of African-American political life in the county were fraught with acrimony between the Republican and Democratic parties over the place of the black man in county politics.

PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY’S STRUCTURE OF GOVERNMENT In the State of Maryland, counties are the primary unit of government, serving as the basic units of the state. Prince George’s County’s home rule charter dominates its twenty-eight municipalities and gives it the authority to provide the same key services as many large cities. The public school system is part of county government, and it is the fifteenth largest public school system in the United States. Prior to the December 3, 1970, charter establishing home rule, Prince George’s County basically had been an instrument of state administration. Since obtaining home rule, the administration of the county’s affairs is the responsibility of an elected county executive, county council, and board of education. In addition to these bodies, two major quasiindependent governmental units exercise considerable power over construction and economic development. The Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission (WSSC) was established in 1918 by the General Assembly to act as a bi-county agency to control the water and sewer systems of Prince George’s and Montgomery counties. The Maryland National Capital Park and Planning Commission (M-NCP&PC) was established in 1927 by the General Assembly. In the same manner as the WSSC, the M-NCP&PC is a bi-county agency that was created to “oversee orderly bi-county development” in Prince George’s and Montgomery counties. The M-NCP&PC has the authority to “plan the method of development of new subdivisions, submit recommendations for zoning classifications, issue building permits, and purchase and develop park lands.”6 Although the commission makes zoning recommendations, the county council has final say over zoning matters and the authority to override the former’s recommendations.7 The governing coalition in Prince George’s County is comprised of the county executive, the county council, key members to the county’s delegation to the Maryland State Legislature, the County Economic Development Cor-

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

24

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

Prince George’s County

25

poration, the political parties, the Democratic Central Committee (which acts in tandem with the Democratic Party), the major banks and savings and loan associations, the Chamber of Commerce, the construction industry, a group of influential attorneys, and the WSSC and M-NCP&PC. As is the case in local jurisdictions across the country, the political and economic elite in Prince George’s County have governed through an intricate personal network. As Cumberland (1967) describes, “a significant factor in the development process in Prince George’s County is the interrelationship, linkages, and overlapping among the government, quasi-government, legal, political, financial, and business groups. Mobility between these groups is not unusual, nor is simultaneous membership in several groups.”8 These close-knit economic and political relationships were pertinent to the extensive migration of African Americans to the county during the 1960s and 1970s. The public school system in Prince George’s County is autonomous from the county council, in that it sets its own policy. The county council does, however, decide the amount of money that will be allocated to the board of education’s annual budget. Since December 3, 1973, the nine-member school board (including one student member) has been elected from districts to four-year terms. The county executive has the authority to fill vacancies as they arise and to appoint the school superintendent with board approval. Although the school board is autonomous, there have been a number of ad hoc committees established over the past two decades that have greatly influenced education policy. Ad hoc committees typically have been established around a particular problem relating to education. The Community Advisory Council on Magnet and Compensatory Schools (also known as the Committee of 100) is an example of such a committee. The Committee of 100 was established to monitor the county’s school desegregation plan. Since its inception, it has presented a number of proposals that have greatly influenced school board action. In addition to the Committee of 100, parents, educators, and civic groups and leaders also have formed ad hoc advisory committees that have been influential in the education policy arena. The county council currently is composed of nine members elected from nine separate districts. Prior to the 1982 general election, however, there were eleven county council members elected in six districts (five elected at large and six elected in separate districts). In addition to the county council, there is an elected county executive. Both the county executive and members to the county council are elected to four-year terms of office. Although members to the county delegation of the Maryland State Legislature have no direct budgetary or policy authority over the county’s school system, the state is a major source of school funding. Legislators also participate in issues relating to the state’s administration of education policy

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

25

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

26


and thus affect local education policy. In addition, similar to the county council, the county’s delegation to the state legislature sets the tone of various policies in the county as a whole and “retains the ultimate power to limit county actions.”9 In 1994, Prince George’s County’s delegation to the state legislature had thirty-two members—eight state senators elected from eight state legislative districts and twenty-four members to the general assembly, who also are elected in eight districts (three members per district). Like members to the county council and the board of education, the county executive and state legislators serve four-year terms. Following the imposition of term limits by county voters in 1992, however, all county officials (county council members and the county executive) are barred from seeking reelection after serving two terms. The politics of the county has evolved through two distinct eras. The first era, noted for its rule by the political machine of Lansdale T. Sasscer, lasted until the late 1960s. The second period, noted initially for its antimachine posture and liberal, reform-minded spirit, continues today.

MACHINE POLITICS IN PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY Politics in Maryland has and continues to be dominated by the Democratic Party. However, despite Democratic Party dominance, intra-party factions do exist. As V.O. Key (1949) notes, factionalism is most likely in one-party states. In two-party states, on the other hand, unity is promoted by the constant challenge of the opposing party.10 Disparate factions within the state’s Democratic Party can be largely attributed to the diverse and disparate cultures existing within the state. The State of Maryland can be divided into four major types of political entities, with four very different political histories and cultures. Maryland’s only large city, Baltimore, has a history steeped in machine politics. Eastern shore and southern counties are dominated by a political culture ensconced in conservatism and ruled by a propertied elite. In western counties, the politics of personality dominates. Suburbs such as Prince George’s and Montgomery counties have a history of machine and anti-machine politics.11 Machine politics arrived comparatively late in Prince George’s County. While organization politics had been a feature of politics in Baltimore since the late nineteenth century, Prince George’s machine was born in the mid1930s, with the advent of its politics of personal acquaintance. This machine, led by then-state senator and president of the state senate, Lansdale T. Sasscer, from 1934 to 1962, was largely funded by T. Howard Ducker, founder of Suburban Trust Company, and “was based on favoritism; Sasscer supported the bank and its borrowers, and they supported him.”12

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

26

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


27

Unlike some urban machines that were based upon high, working-class participation, Sasscer’s machine and other suburban machines were based on low voter turnout and political indifference. Although the Sasscer machine survived until the late 1960s, it began its steady decline in the 1940s. The decline was primarily due to the arrival of more reform-minded suburbanites who were largely anti-machine. As was the case in larger urban centers, the reform movement was “led by nonpartisan neighborhood associations, good government leagues, service clubs, and groups such as the League of Women Voters.”13 The reformers were very successful and overthrew the machine with demands for greater governmental accountability by exposing inefficiencies throughout the court system and defeating many members of the organization in the 1962 and 1964 primaries. A critical blow to the Sasscer machine occurred in 1966, when court-ordered reapportionment resulted in the creation of election districts. The final blow to any remaining vestiges of the Sasscer machine occurred in 1970, when Prince George’s County adopted a home rule charter. Implementation of the charter, which called for an elected county executive, further fragmented the Democratic Party and resulted in the election of Republican William W. Gullett as Prince George’s County’s first elected county executive.14 The strength of the Republicans in this and the 1978 county executive race was a result of fragmentation within the Democratic Party structure. According to former African-American state Senator Tommie Broadwater, this fragmentation was a result of a white backlash against the greatest issue of the day, the integration of the county’s school system. Although the reform movement eliminated the rule of the old and more conservative Sasscer organization, “insider” politics continued its tradition under the guise of a different leadership. Unlike the previous machine, however, county politics resembled a club system or, as described by George Callcott (1985), “an alliance of the in-group which bore resemblance to a revived organization.”15 Reform, however, is a relative term. Although the “in-group” served to reform former political practices in the county, there have been instances where reform measures have been proposed to curtail the practices of the “in-group.” Club members, or members of the in-group, were slated and supported financially for election. The unity engendered by the alliance resulted in power in the state legislature similar to that possessed by the Baltimore alliance. Central to the new organization was attorney Peter F. O’Malley, who presided over and brokered compromises within the new organization. Other key figures included then-state Senator Steny H. Hoyer, county council members Gladys Noon Spelman and Francis B. Francois, and state Senator Meyer (Marty) Emanuel.16

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

27

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

28


Key to the power of the Democratic organization led by Peter F. O’Malley was the power wielded by the Democratic Central Committee, which consisted of elected party officials from each district, filled vacancies, controlled the party purse, and advised county officials, the General Assembly, and the governor, especially on matters of patronage positions. As described by Callcott (1985), the Democratic Central Committee acts as a government within a government, and many current and former elected officials began their political careers in it.17 Power was, therefore, dependent upon the continued election of members of the “in-group” to office, as well as on the Democratic Central Committee. In 1974, Steny Hoyer, then a state senator, and political advisor, Peter F. O’Malley, put together their first “Blue Ribbon slate” for every office in the county.18 Neither the Blue Ribbon slate nor the Blue Ribbon Selection Committee that organized the slate are in existence today. However, “grandchildren slates,” as they are called, continue to wield influence in county elections by providing essential campaign resources for candidates. The influence of the group has, however, withered as its leadership has fragmented. The Blue Ribbon Selection Committee, similar to the group currently organizing the county’s main slate/ticket, was composed of members of the Democratic Party leadership in the county. This group includes the county executive, state senators, members of Congress from the county, the chair and vice chair of the state assembly, and the chair and vice chair of the Democratic Central Committee. Consensus among top party elected officials has always been key to the organization and, as to be expected, a lack of consensus has ultimately weakened the influence of the “in-group.” Despite waning influence, however, the Blue Ribbon slate and its descendants have been significant to African-American politics in Prince George’s County. In relation to African-American politics, the slates have served as a vehicle by which African-American political aspirants have been groomed and supported by the party leadership in the county. The success of both African-American and white members supported by the slate-making system is largely the result of the Central Committee’s ability to raise considerable funds for its members, to garner support for the slate throughout its respective districts, and to hold voter education and registration drives in each district. Candidates who do not receive the support of the slate face formidable odds and typically have a difficult time raising the type of campaign resources afforded to candidates who have the blessing of the slate. In 1974, for example, the Blue Ribbon slate contained seventy candidates running for various offices. Of those seventy candidates, only three lost their bids for election. Subsequent slates have been similarly successful, especially where African-American candidates are concerned. Conversely, there

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

28

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


29

has been only one successful African-American challenge to the slate (state representative, Gloria Lawlah). The Blue Ribbon slate operated in the 1974 election but was dismantled after the election amidst public outcry and opposition toward what was clearly an insider organization. Subsequent slates of the “in-group” also have faced opposition. For example, another name for one of the “in-group” slates was “the Official Democratic Sample Ballot.” After the election in which the slate was used, public outcry resulted in its demise. Subsequent slates, however, have borne such names as “the Democratic Sample Ballot” and “Democrats 90.” In addition to the slate, another early manifestation of the “in-group” was the Breakfast Club, which served as a forum for closed meetings of the “ingroup” every Monday morning. The Breakfast Club met the same fate of the Blue Ribbon slate and has fallen by the wayside. The main criticism of the Breakfast Club was its resemblance to the proverbial closed-door meetings of early political machines. As a result of this opposition, the Breakfast Club meetings have not been conducted for over fifteen years in the county. However, just as the main slate continues to operate in a covert fashion, so too it seems likely that informal meetings have taken the place of the Breakfast Club. Although slates are not formally associated with the Democratic Central Committee, membership in it is based on state senatorial prerogative, and its chair and vice chair assist in the organization of the slate. As has been described in interviews conducted for this book, state senators typically support candidates to the Central Committee, candidates they feel will be most pliable to their political interests, especially where the filling of vacancies is concerned. Former African-American state Senator Tommie Broadwater served on the Democratic Central Committee from 1970 through 1974. He describes how the Democratic Central Committee would hold fund-raising drives in which considerable clout was bestowed on the member whose district raised the most funds. Broadwater also describes how a candidate who wished to run on the Blue Ribbon Selection Committee slate would be required to come before the committee to present his or her credentials. According to Broadwater, in the day of the Blue Ribbon Selection Committee, the eleven-member Democratic Central Committee was almost equally divided among liberals, who supported the inclusion of African Americans and labor, and conservatives, who did not. Broadwater maintains that he, however, served as the essential sixth vote on the Central Committee and was a key player because of his ability to mobilize African-American support for the ticket. According to Broadwater, once he was on the Central Committee, he was able to involve more African Americans in the political process by filling vacancies and getting African Americans on the Blue Ribbon slate.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

29

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

30


Although the original aim of the “in-group” was to foster unity among members of the county’s Democratic Party, the party has had a history of fragmentation. The division within the party has roots in the battle over control of county government between the Sasscer organization and the reformers. Current divisions, however, are not based on ideological differences or divergent policy orientations but on the politics of personality and the fight for control between the state and county contingencies of the county government. The division in the Democratic Party organization in 1994 pitted State Senate President Mike Miller against former county executive and Governor Parris Glendening. Although neither supported issues antithetical to the other, their rivalry was similar to that expected of members of opposing party organizations. Yet, despite their rivalry, Parris Glendening and Mike Miller have consistently run for their respective offices on the same main slate. The factionalism within the Democratic Party organization is consistent with V.O. Key’s assertions regarding one-party politics. As Key (1949) notes, factions are less the result of issue conflicts and more based on voter grouping, composition of leadership (essentially personalities), or localism.19 In addition to disunity among key party elected officials, the 1992 imposition of term limits for county officials served as another hazard to the viability of the slate. Term limits have effectively eliminated the incumbency factor and all of the privileges bestowed on an organization that can virtually guarantee reelection. Term limits also diminish the level of control that party leaders can exert on party members. For African Americans, however, term limits pose an additional dilemma. Several African-American elected officials who were interviewed for this book indicated that the push for term limits was a calculated effort to limit the potential power of dominant actors in the African-American community. According to this reasoning, if an election resulted in the victory of someone who was out of step with the governing coalition, term limits could effectively limit his or her longevity in office. The significance of the rivalry between Glendening and Miller was made more pronounced by their different bases of support within the African-American community. Although perhaps unwittingly, this division maintained disunity among African-American elected officials and consequently eliminated the potential for unified African-American electoral efforts in county politics.

THE MACHINE’S IMPACT ON AFRICAN-AMERICAN MIGRATION African-American mass migratory trends began in the mid 1960’s and continues, albeit on a much smaller scale, to this day. The African-American population’s attraction to Prince George’s County was enhanced by the rapid

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

30

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


31

construction of homes, originally designed to attract whites who were whitecollar professionals, the county’s relatively cheap rural land, and the creation of industries and garden apartments and condominiums in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The apartments were especially attractive, because they were close to the predominantly African-American southeast Washington, D.C., border.20 Prince George’s County has attracted more African Americans than any other surrounding suburbs. Census data for the 1970s, for example, reveal that 81 percent (8,900) of the 11,000 African-American households that migrated from the District of Columbia settled in Prince George’s County. Other suburban jurisdictions, such as Fairfax County, Virginia, practiced restrictive zoning laws that deterred those with lower to moderate incomes from moving there. In the late 1980s, less than 1 percent of Fairfax County’s land was zoned for multiple family housing, which is one of the most affordable types of housing. Fairfax County, which has been the suburban jurisdiction with the most success in job creation, has remained 89 percent white.21 Other jurisdictions, however, have followed suit and have become adept at limiting minority and lower-income migration to their areas. In addition to zoning laws, African Americans and other minorities have experienced problems in rental housing opportunities in suburban districts, especially outside of Prince George’s County. In 1986, the Regional Fair Housing Consortium reported that “in the majority of cases they tested in the Washington area, whites were consistently given preference over African Americans in rental housing opportunities.”22 These practices and the subsequent migration patterns of African Americans and whites throughout the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area are not new. Long before the Civil War, Prince George’s County was more heavily populated with African Americans than any other region in Maryland. When the population boom to Prince George’s County began at the turn of the century, whites with moderate incomes were attracted to the region for its relatively inexpensive land and its close proximity to the nation’s capital— where many of them worked. Other factors propelling moderate to lower income white migration to the county were the zoning codes and real estate covenants in other suburban areas, which were designed to discourage lowerincome neighborhoods in their area. Working-class whites ended up in places they could afford, such as Prince George’s County. When African-American suburbanization began in the late 1960s, Prince George’s County was attractive for identical reasons.23 As John H. Cumberland notes in his 1967 study on Prince George’s County and its developmental practices, Prince George’s County was more inclined than neighboring Montgomery County to zone for multi-family housing than single-family housing. Even more consequential, during the

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

31

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

32


period Cumberland examines (1960–1964), the average value of every type of structure recorded was 25 to 45 percent lower in Prince George’s County than in Montgomery County and Washington, D.C.24 Despite the fact that the average value of residential units was significantly lower in Prince George’s County, the dollar size of the construction industry was comparable in the three localities of D.C. and Prince George’s and Montgomery counties. Therefore, more residential units were built for relatively the same cost in Prince George’s County than in Montgomery County and Washington, D.C., making the county a cheaper place to live and giving it a larger market for people looking for homes.25 As is the case generally, zoning practices and decisions in Prince George’s and Montgomery counties were very political. The “country club suburbanites” replaced the liberals as the dominant governing coalition in Montgomery County in 1948. Contrary to the desires of the more liberal governing coalition, the new coalition pursued single-family home development and restrictive zoning until 1962 when another reform-minded coalition replaced them.26 The dominant coalition in Prince George’s County, led by Lansdale Sasscer, viewed development quite differently and promoted ambitious development, often in the interest of politicians and developers. In the late 1950s, politicians and developers were able to push through building permits for multi-family housing against the recommendations of the Park and Planning Zoning Board.27 Armed with studies funded by the government, the county’s Economic Development Commission attempted to demonstrate that apartment construction yielded “more tax revenues in relationship to expenditures for services” than single-family home construction. Visibly absent from its studies were the social consequences of apartment construction. As Cumberland notes, their reports ignored consequences such as the “impact upon traffic congestion, the pollution load, fire and crime factors, income level, income tax receipts, educational level, impacts upon existing single family residences, and other factors affecting environmental quality.”28 The Economic Development Commission was effective in its insistence over the benefits of multi-family home construction, and it was able to rationalize the development of more apartment than single-family home construction in the county. As table 2.1 demonstrates, for the five-year period covering 1960–1964, 64 percent of the building permits issued in Prince George’s County went to the construction of multi-family housing. During the same period, only 48 percent of the building permits issued in Montgomery County went to the construction of multi-family housing units.29 During the period 1965–1969, 60 percent of the building permits issued in Prince George’s County went to the construction of multi-family housing, compared to 61 percent in Montgomery County. The rise in multi-family housing construction in Montgomery County can be attributed to the reform

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

32

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


33

coalition that ruled zoning decisions from 1962 to 1968.30 Although there was a rise in multi-family housing construction in Montgomery County, the bulk of it was owner occupied. Prince George’s County’s multi-family units, on the other hand, were largely renter occupied. Corrupt and ambitious zoning practices were halted in Prince George’s and other neighboring counties in the late 1960s when Prince George’s county council chair, Jesse Baggett, along with then-governor and former Baltimore county executive, Spiro Agnew, and other Baltimore and Anne Arundel officials were convicted of collecting money in exchange for zoning favors. All except Spiro Agnew were imprisoned.31 The period covering 1970–1979 witnessed a diminution in the proportion of multi-family housing units built in Prince George’s County (from 62 percent during the 1960s to 34 percent during the 1970s). Despite decreases in the proportion of multi-family housing units constructed, the actual number of single-family housing units built in Montgomery County (34,419) nonetheless far exceeded the total built in Prince George’s County (23,947).32 The 1980s witnessed another dramatic decline in the number of multifamily housing units built in Prince George’s County. During the 1980s, multi-family housing construction dropped from its 1970s’ rate of 12,332 to 3,649. Despite changes in housing construction, however, the stage had been set in the early to mid-1960’s, greatly affecting the migration patterns of those with low to moderate incomes and those with higher incomes.33

Table 2.1 Housing Units Constructed (1960–1990) Prince George’s County

Montgomery County

Years

Single Units

%

MultiUnits

%

Single Units

%

MultiUnits

%

1960–64 1965–69 1960–69 1970–74 1975–79 1970–79 1980–84 1985–89 1980–89 1990

22,297 19,127 41,424 13,458 10,516 23,947 11,322 22,154 33,476 4,273

36 40 38 54 91 66 93 89 90 90

38,808 28,630 67,438 11,353 979 12,332 881 2,768 3,649 479

64 60 62 46 9 34 7 11 10 10

17,196 17,592 34,788 21,733 12,686 34,419 27,705 28,602 56,307 2,494

54 39 45 58 69 61 82 82 82 49

14,607 27,702 42,309 16,045 5,671 21,716 6,013 6,146 12,159 2,583

48 61 55 42 31 39 18 18 18 51

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Construction Reports, Residential Building Permits, 1960, 1970, 1980, & 1990 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

33

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

34


In Prince George’s County, early zoning practices had promoted the development of blue-collar villages in areas such as Mt. Rainier, Brentwood, Queenstown, Suitland, and Oxen Hill. This development had virtually created a trend toward apartment dweller migration to Prince George’s County over and above the number settling in Montgomery County and surrounding Table 2.2 Owner/Renter Occupancy Rates—(1970–1990) Characteristics


Montgomery County

1970 Population

660,567

522,809

Total Occupied Housing Units

192,962

156,674

Percent Owner Occupied

50.0%

61.4%

Percent Renter Occupied

50.0%

38.6%

Population

674,243

596,523


221,845

204,432


55.0%

65.0%


45.0%

35.0%

Population

729,268

757,027


258,011

282,228


49.0%

68.0%


41.0%

32.0%

1980

1990

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population, Housing Characteristics: Homeowner and Renter Characteristics: 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

34

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


35

suburban counties.34 This early practice was in total contrast to the efforts of Prince George’s County’s Economic Development Corporation, which in the 1980s reaped $10 billion in new investments in the county, which included the construction of homes for mid- to high-level executives, a majority of whom were African American.35 As Table 2.2 demonstrates, in 1970, 38.6 percent of Montgomery County’s occupied housing units were renter occupied, compared to Prince George’s County’s rate of 50 percent. By 1980, the proportion declined in Prince George’s County to 45 percent, however, the proportion of owner-occupied housing units in Montgomery County (65%) still far exceeded the proportion in Prince George’s County by ten percentage points. Between 1980 and 1990, the proportion of Prince George’s residents occupying multi-family housing declined (from 45% to 41%), however, the actual number of Prince George’s County residents living in renter-occupied housing exceeded Montgomery’s County’s rate by 15,695.

Table 2.3 Median Housing Values—(1970–1990) Characteristics


Montgomery County

1969 Median Owner Occupied Value

$23,700

$32,700

Median Rent Payment

$143

$165

Median Owner Occupied Value

$63,900

$97,300

Median Rent Payment

$282

$331


$122,600

$200,800

Median Rent Payment

$607

$698

1979

1989

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population. Housing Characteristics: Homeowner and Renter Characteristics: 1970, 1980, & 1990 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

35

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

36


Prince George’s County attracted more lower to moderate income and African-American residents as a result of higher multi-family housing construction and lower housing values (greater affordability). As demonstrated in Table 2.3, median rental and owner costs in Montgomery County far exceeded those in Prince George’s County during the same time period. In 1970, the median owner-occupied housing value in Montgomery County exceeded Prince George’s County’s by $9,000. In 1980, the gap between Montgomery County’s and Prince George’s County’s owner-occupied housing values increased, by $33,400. By 1990, the gap had further widened, with Montgomery County’s median value of owner-occupied housing exceeding Prince George’s County’s by $78,200. In addition to greater housing affordability, as is to be expected, African Americans migrating in the 1970s found comfort in the sizable number of African Americans who had already migrated during the 1960s. At the beginning of the 1970s, for example, African Americans comprised 14 percent of the total population. At the end of the decade, that number approached 37 percent.36 In Montgomery County during the same period, the AfricanAmerican population increased from 4.1 percent of the population to 8.6 percent— an increase of 29,679 African Americans, compared to an increase of 162,015 in Prince George’s County. African-American migration to other surrounding suburbs also was comparatively lower. In 1965, approximately 200 African Americans moved from Washington and Baltimore to the Maryland suburbs. “In 1970 about two thousand moved to the suburbs and by 1980 approximately 20 thousand African Americans were moving out each year.”37 As Table 2.4 depicts, whites and African Americans migrating from the District of Columbia in 1980 headed in decidedly different directions. While

Table 2.4 Washington, D. C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Race (1980) Suburban Location

African Americans

Whites


85%

12%

Montgomery County

9%

41%

All Other Suburbs

6%

47%

SOURCE:

Gale, Grier, and Grier (1986), pp. 13–14.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

36

8/13/02, 9:21 PM


37

85 percent of African Americans migrating from the District moved to Prince George’s County, only 12 percent of whites migrating from Washington, D.C., moved into Prince George’s County. On the other hand, 9 percent of African Americans migrating from the District moved into Montgomery County, compared to 41 percent of whites. The migration patterns of African-American and white Washington, D.C., out-migrants are partially attributed to group residential patterns within Washington, D.C. African Americans living predominantly in northeast and southeast Washington moved to Prince George’s County, Maryland, in greater numbers because it was in close proximity to their former neighborhoods. Whites, on the other hand, living predominantly in northwest Washington, chose bordering Montgomery County, Maryland, and Virginia, across the Potomac River.38 When coupled with issues relating to affordability and the presence of multi-family dwellings, Prince George’s County overwhelmingly became the choice for African Americans. Although a large amount of the African-American migration to Prince George’s County was from the District, D.C. accounted for less than half of it. For example, during the 1970s, Prince George’s County gained nearly twice as many African Americans as the District lost.39 The tendency for African-American suburban migrants to move to one suburban jurisdiction rather than to spread out, was common, however. Between 1970 and 1980, in 101 of 239 Standard Metropolitan Statistical Areas (SMSAs) across the nation, “half or more of the total rise in African-American suburban residency occurred in one county even where the central cities were surrounded by three or more counties.”40 In fact, this pattern may be a manifestation of racial steering, the practice of directing African-American home buyers to particular jurisdictions. The socioeconomic status of white and African-American former District residents migrating to suburban counties also was very different. As Table 2.5 demonstrates, in 1980, 8.2 percent of African-American out-migrants from the District of Columbia fell into the “$40,000 or more” income category, compared to 24.3 percent of white out-migrants from the District of Columbia.41 The type of housing that African-American and white District of Columbia out-migrants sought reflected their socioeconomic status. As Table 2.6 demonstrates, 31.8 percent of African-American out-migrants moved to owner-occupied units, compared to 48.5 percent of white out-migrants.42 African Americans who did migrate to Prince George’s County, like whites, were different in socioeconomic status from their cohorts moving to Montgomery and other local suburban jurisdictions. As we will see in the next section, African-American migration to Prince George’s County had a major effect on white migratory patterns.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

37

8/13/02, 9:21 PM

38


Table 2.5 Washington, D. C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Income (1980) Income Category

African Americans

Less than $10,000 $10–19,000 $20–29,999 $30–39,999 $40,000 and above

14.5% 43.6% 17.3% 16.4% 8.2%

SOURCE:

Whites 15.2% 30.3% 19.7% 10.6% 24.3%


Table 2.6 Washington, D. C., to Suburbs Outmovers by Housing Tenure (1980) Housing Tenure

African Americans

Owners Renters SOURCE:

31.8% 68.2%

Whites 48.5% 51.5%


THE EFFECT OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN MIGRATION ON WHITE MIGRATORY PATTERNS The transformation from a majority white populated county to a majority African-American populated county occurred in two distinct stages. In the decade of the 1970s, African-American migration to Prince George’s County was met with massive white resistance, incidents of police brutality, and courtordered busing. The second stage, encompassing the decade of the 1980s, was not met with as much white resistance due to the appreciable presence of African Americans and the subsequent white flight that occurred as a result of earlier African-American migration.43 As Table 2.7 shows, in 1960, there were 30,986 African Americans in Prince George’s County compared to 324,514 whites. While African Americans in Prince George’s County represented only 8.7 percent of the population, the proportion of African Americans in Montgomery County was considerably lower, at 3.4 percent of the total population. By 1970, the African-American population in Prince George’s County had grown appreciably. Largely spurred on by the open housing legislation of 1968 (which prohibited discrimination in the advertisement, real estate brokerage, financing, and rental or sale of housing), the African-American population increased by

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

38

8/13/02, 9:22 PM


39

177 percent to 85,873 (14 percent of the total population). The decade of the 1960s proclaimed Prince George’s the fastest-growing county in the United States.44 Between SMSAs with sizable African-American populations in 1970, Washington was second only to Atlanta in the rate of growth among AfricanAmerican suburbanites.45 During the same decade, the white population in Prince George’s County had increased by 73 percent to 561,482 (85 percent of the total population). Nonetheless, increases in Prince George’s white population lagged behind the rate of the African-American population increase. Although the decade of the 1960s exhibited great racial transformation, it was a far cry from the changes that took place during the 1970s. By 1980, the African-American population increased by 188 percent, bringing the African-American population to 37 percent of the total population. On the other hand, however, Prince George’s white population decreased by 30 percent, to 58.4 percent of the total population. In the early 1970s, Prince George’s County was quite segregated. During this period the Capital Beltway, (Interstate 95/495) served as a rough line of demarcation between Prince George’s County’s African-American and white populations, with the heaviest concentration of African Americans living in a small area near the District line (see Figure 2.1).46 Although the 1970s experienced new population trends between the African-American and white populations, the county’s population as a whole remained relatively stable. In 1980, the U.S. Census Bureau measured an increase of only 5,000 in the county’s population as a whole, despite the large migration and flight patterns of African Americans and whites. The factors that contributed to a decline in the county’s growth rate were the school desegregation battles of the 1970s, “growth in nearby counties, a slowdown in the rate of [national] government growth, the end of the post-war baby

Table 2.7 African-American/White Population Trends Prince George’s County (1960–1990) Years

White

% Change

1960 1970 1980 1990

324,514 561,482 393,550 314,616

89.5 73 –30 –20

African% of Pop. American 91 85 58.4 43

30,986 85,873 247,888 369,791

% Change 36.8 177.1 188.7 49

% of Pop. 8 14 37 52

SOURCE: Bureau of the Census; Census of the Population, Composition of the Population by Counties: 1960, 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

39

8/13/02, 9:22 PM

40


Figure 2.1 Percent African American for Prince George’s County, 1970 (Based on 1970–2000 Census Tract Equivalency Areas)

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

40

8/13/02, 9:22 PM


41

boom, and most significant, a state imposed ban on new sewer line construction in the county.”47 During the 1970s, the white population in Montgomery County increased by a mere 0.6 percent, to 83 percent of the population, compared to an African-American population increase of 138 percent, from 4.1 percent to 8.6 percent of the population. Clearly, Montgomery County, with an increase of 3,109 white persons, did not accommodate Prince George’s County’s loss of 167,932 white persons. Instead, Prince George’s County’s loss was spread over other suburban counties. In the 1970s, Charles, Calvert, and Anne Arundel counties’ combined population grew by 111,762.48 Although Montgomery County’s African-American population had increased significantly, it gained only 29,679 African Americans, compared to Prince George’s County’s gain of 162,015 African Americans. Although significant, the decade of the 1980s did not experience the same racial transformation as the preceding decade. The 1980s did, however, witness a transformation in the migration patterns of African Americans within the county. For example, in the early 1980s, 25 percent of African Americans living within Prince George’s County lived outside of the Capital Beltway, which had long separated the African-American and white populations.49 During the early 1980s, however, African-American migration within Prince George’s County was dispersed. As Figure 2.2 illustrates, although more African Americans were still moving to areas inside of the Capital Beltway (a 126% gain), many moved to areas outside of it (a 122% gain).50 By 1990, the African-American population in Prince George’s County had increased by 49 percent. Simultaneously, the white population decreased by 20 percent. Albeit at a smaller rate, Montgomery County’s white population continued to increase. During the same period, Montgomery County’s white population increased by 17 percent to 77 percent of the population. Again, there was a considerable increase in Montgomery County’s African-American population (81 percent), from 51,114 to 92,267. Montgomery County’s increase of 41,153 African-American persons, however, was nowhere near Prince George’s County’s increase of 121,903 African-American persons. Despite increases in the number of African Americans residing in the county, marked segregation persisted. In 1990, more than half of all of the census tracts in Prince George’s County were at least 70 percent white or 70 percent African American.51 Nearly one-third of African Americans lived in census tracts that were more than 90 percent African American. Although there was a decrease in the white population in Prince George’s County, the census tracts that were more than 80 percent white in 1980 generally gained additional white residents. On the other hand, nearly all of the census tracts that were less than 80 percent white in 1980 lost more white residents than

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

41

8/13/02, 9:22 PM

42



32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

42

8/13/02, 9:22 PM


43


32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

43

8/13/02, 9:22 PM

44


they gained.52 This suggests that as African Americans moved into a particular census tract, whites moved to more predominantly white census tracts, or out of the county altogether (see Figure 2.3). Despite considerable white flight, white elected officials continued to dominate local elective offices. In 1990, African Americans represented 48 percent of all persons eighteen years of age and older (compared to 46% for whites) and constituted two-thirds of the 108,000 student population in Prince George’s County. Even with the existence of a potential African-American electoral majority in Prince George’s County, however, prior to the 1994 elections only two of nine members of the county council were African American. Similarly, African Americans held only four of the county’s nine board of education seats. Of the twenty-four state legislative seats and eight state senate seats, African-American elected officials prior to the 1994 elections occupied, respectively, eight and three seats. Much of their inability to elect more officials probably resulted from their heavy concentration in a few districts. If this is in fact true, this illuminates the probability that AfricanAmerican candidates lacked broad-based appeal, even to liberal whites, in the county. Nonetheless, as 52 percent of the total population, African Americans occupied only sixteen of the fifty main elected offices in the county (30%). The 1994 elections witnessed an increase in the number of African-American elected officials, however, African Americans still lagged behind whites, representing 38 percent of the total number of elected officials.

SUMMARY Prince George’s County’s recent political history can be characterized as the politics of the “in-group.” The patterns of transaction of the early machine had a tremendous impact on the migration of African Americans to the county, those in search of affordable suburban housing. This in turn, however, led to considerable white flight outside of the county. The shifts that have occurred within the dominant Democratic Party organization have been particularly instrumental to African-American political representation. When coupled with the migratory patterns of African Americans and whites, however, increases in the African-American population have not translated into political representation in proportion to their numbers in the population. Chapter 4 will address this issue further, as it surveys African-American representation in Prince George’s County. Before turning to the issue of African-American representation, Chapter 3 provides an in-depth analysis of population and growth trends and the socioeconomic status of Prince Georgians.

32903_SP_JOH_CH02_023-044

44

8/13/02, 9:22 PM

Chapter Three

Social and Economic Characteristics of Prince George’s County, Maryland

Prince George’s County, Maryland, is a success story unto itself. Prior to a population boom at the turn of the century, Prince George’s County was a bedroom community of the nation’s capital. After a tremendous growth spurt in the first half of the twentieth century, Prince George’s County was transformed into a booming, bustling suburb that was adept at attracting businesses. By 1984, more Prince Georgians (132,000) worked in the county than in the District (119,000).1 Thereby, in the space of a century, Prince George’s had become a self-sufficient entity, and on most socioeconomic indicators it surpassed the central city that it bordered. Prince George’s socioeconomic characteristics are above both the state and national medians (see Table 3.1). In 1990, the median income of $48,471 for Prince George’s residents exceeded the national and state median family income by $13,246 and $3,437, respectively. Although relatively high, the median family income in Prince George’s County fell far short of Montgomery County’s rate of $61,988. As indicated in Chapter 2, the socioeconomic disparities existing between the two suburban counties were largely the result of zoning practices that made Prince George’s County more amenable to lower income and minority migration. Nonetheless, as Table 3.1 indicates, Prince George’s County exceeded the State of Maryland on most socioeconomic indicators by appreciable margins. AFRICAN-AMERICAN/WHITE SOCIOECONOMIC DISPARITIES In addition to its characteristic as an increasingly independent and affluent jurisdiction, Prince George’s County contains one of the largest concentrations 45

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

45

8/13/02, 9:23 PM

46

SOCIAL

AND

ECONOMIC CHARACTERISTICS

Table 3.1 Socioeconomic Characteristics by Percentages (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Prince George Montgomery County County

State of Maryland

U.S.A.

Total Families

183,800

200,522

1,256,327

65,049,428

Median Family Income

$48,471

$61,988

$45,034

$35,225

Family Poverty

3.7%

2.7%

6.0

10.0%

Unemployed

4.3%

2.7%

4.3%

6.3%

Managerial and Professional Occupations

31.0%

47.2%

32.3%

26.4%

High School Graduates

83.1%

87.3%

78.4%

75.2%

Bachelor’s Degrees

16.2%

27.0%

15.6%

13.1%

SOURCE: Bureau of the Census, Summary Social, Economic, and Housing Characteristics, 1990 report.

of African-American affluence in the country. Despite its level of affluence, however, it ranks lower than its white counterparts on most socioeconomic indicators (see Table 3.2). In 1990, the median family income for AfricanAmerican families was considerably lower than for white families in Prince George’s County, at $45,198 and $52,920, respectively. Since 1970, the gaps in African-American/white family incomes have, however, remained relatively stable. In 1970 the African-American/white median family income ratio was 0.84 compared to 0.85 in 1980 and 1990.2 The gap between African-American and white family poverty is significantly larger than the gap in median family income. Compared to previous decades, the African-American/white poverty ratios in Prince George’s County have in fact widened. In 1970, the nonwhite/white family poverty ratio was 1.86, compared to 2.15 in 1980 and 2.68 in 1990. Therefore, as the proportion of the African-American population has increased in Prince George’s County, so too has the gap in family poverty rates. A comparison of the median family incomes and poverty rates of African Americans suggests the existence of two socioeconomically diverse African-

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

46

8/13/02, 9:23 PM

Social and Economic Characteristics

47

Table 3.2 African-American/White Socioeconomic Comparisons Prince George’s County, Maryland, (1990) African American

White

Ratio

4.8%

9.0%

0.53


$45,198

$52,920

0.85

Family Poverty

5.1%

1.9%

2.68


83.1%

84.1%

0.99

College Graduates

13.7%

18.1%

0.76

5.2%

3.1%

1.68

Managerial and Professional Occupants

27.0%

36.0%

0.75

Service Occupations

14.0%

9.7%

1.40

Incomes over 100,000

Unemployed

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Summary Social, Economic, and Housing Characteristics, 1990 report.

American communities—one poor and the other relatively affluent. Therefore, while there is considerable African-American affluence in Prince George’s County, there are much larger income gaps within the African-American community than within the white community. As is to be expected, given the significant gaps in family income, disparities exist between African Americans and whites in the occupational and unemployment categories. In 1990, 5.2 percent of African Americans in Prince George’s County were unemployed, compared to 3.1 percent of whites. While 36 percent of whites occupied positions in the managerial and professional category, 27 percent of African Americans held similar positions. Gaps in the college education category may explain a significant portion of the variance. For example, although African Americans were virtually on par in the secondary and elementary education categories, the percentage of whites with college degrees exceeded African-American college degree attainment by nearly 5 percent, at 18.1 percent and 13.7 percent, respectively.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

47

8/13/02, 9:23 PM

48

SOCIAL

AND


Table 3.3 African-American/White Owner/Renter Occupancy Rates Prince George’s County (1970–1990) Characteristics 1970

White

Population % Owning Homes

561,482 50.2%

1980

African American 85%

White


393,550 60.5%

1990 314,616 70.0%

13.8%

African American 58.4%

White


85,873 50.3%

247,888 45.5%

37%

African American 43%

369,791 49.2%

52%

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Housing Tenure by Race, 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports.

Compared to previous decades, the gap between African-American and white high school graduation rates has declined as the African-American population has increased. In 1970, for example, the ratio between AfricanAmerican and total population high school graduate rates was 0.83, compared to 0.99 in 1980 and 1990. Although the proportion of African Americans in Prince George’s County who own their home is greater than the national proportion, their numbers are smaller than whites in the county. When comparing the proportion of African Americans and whites who owned their home (see Table 3.3), African-American rates of ownership remained relatively stable over the 1970– 1990 period, while white home ownership increased significantly. Of the total number of housing units occupied by African Americans in 1990, 49.3 percent was owner occupied. Comparatively, whites owned 70 percent of the total number of white-occupied housing units. Even more striking, however, were the changes in the African-American/white ownership ratios from the previous decade. Of the total number of housing units occupied by whites in 1980, 60.5 percent was owner occupied—which represents an increase of 9.5 percent in 1990, compared to a 3.7 percent increase for African Americans. Therefore, while the proportion of whites in the population had declined between 1980 and 1990, the proportion of whites owning their own homes had increased significantly compared to African Americans whose population had increased.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

48

8/13/02, 9:23 PM


49

Considering the simultaneous decline in white, renter-occupied housing and the increase in African-American, renter-occupied housing between 1970 and 1980, African-American in-migrants during this period were more likely to rent than to own their housing. This also may suggest that white outmigrants during the period were more likely to be renters than owners. Between the 1970–1990 period, the gap in African-American/white housing values increased (see table 3.4). The gap in African-American/white, owner-occupied housing values was $3,900 in 1970, compared to $4,600 in 1980. By 1990, the gap increased to $17,600. The median African-American/ white rent payments, while increasing over the period of examination, did not, however, vary as much. The gap in median housing values is best explained by the differences in where African Americans and whites chose to live within the county. Although the number of African Americans living in outer Beltway communities within Table 3.4 African-American/White Median Housing Values Prince George’s County (1970–1990) Characteristics 1969

Total

African American


$23,700

$19,800

$143

$131

1979

White

African American


$65,200

$60,600

$287

$278

1989

White

African American


$129,700

$112,100

$624

$599

Median Rent Payment

Median Rent Payment

Median Rent Payment

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Housing Tenure by Race, 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

49

8/13/02, 9:23 PM

50

SOCIAL

AND


Prince George’s County increased over time, whites chose communities outside of the Capital Beltway over and above African Americans, particularly once mass African-American migration began. The socioeconomic characteristics of African Americans have increased as their population has increased. However, relative to whites, in many instances they have consistently lagged behind from decade to decade. This is particularly true in the area of academic achievement. Although students within the Prince George’s public school system are relatively affluent (only 19% of students receive free or reduced lunches), there are nonetheless wide disparities between African-American and white academic achievement.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN/WHITE STUDENT ACHIEVEMENT DISPARITIES During the 1984–85 school year, African-American students represented 57 percent of the total student population in Prince George’s County. Average grades for African-American children ranged from Ds to Fs, compared to a B- to C- range for white children in the same grade levels.3 African-American students also scored more than twenty points below their white classmates on standardized tests. In addition to having lower grade averages, African-American students participated in fewer extracurricular activities than white students. This was mainly attributable to the fact that African-American students disproportionally failed to receive a “C” average—the average grade necessary to participate in extracurricular activities.4 Despite these wide disparities, during the 1985–86 school term, African-American third and fifth graders reached achievement levels higher than the average for children of all races nationwide. During the 1987–88 school year, the gap between African-American and white student achievement was 21 percentiles compared to 25 percentiles in the 1983–84 school year. Nonetheless, during the 1987–88 school term, African-American students comprised 62.6 percent of the student population, yet represented 78.4 percent, of the 12,389 suspensions issued.5 During the 1988–89 school year, African-American suspension rates accounted for 82 percent of the total school suspension rate, which had decreased by 13.8 percent from the previous school year.6 Although total African-American student performance lagged far behind white student performance, African-American male performance was particularly dismal. During the 1989–90 school year, for example, the average grade point average for African-American male students was 1.89 on a 4.0 scale, compared to 2.35 for white males. Although the total African-American suspension rate accounted for more than 82 percent of the total number of

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

50

8/13/02, 9:23 PM


51

suspensions, African-American males, as 33 percent of the school population, accounted for 60 percent of the total number of suspensions.7 Equally troubling, during the 1988–89 school year, African-American males represented 40 percent of all dropouts and 47 percent of students enrolled in special education classes.8 During the 1989–90 school year, African-American students represented over 63 percent of the school population, however, African-American teachers accounted for a mere 20 percent of the teaching force. African-American male teachers comprised 313, or 5.6 percent, of the county’s 5,600-member teaching force.9 Between 1990 and 1994, however, the county’s school system made major gains in recruiting African-American teachers. In order to recruit more African-American teachers, recruiters focused their efforts on historically African-American universities and colleges and offered a wide array of benefits and incentives to minority teachers. These incentives included low-cost moving services, security deposit waivers for apartments, special rates at local car dealerships, tuition reimbursement for further study, and housing assistance.10 The results of these efforts have been extremely promising. During the four-year campaign, the system hired 308 African-American male teachers. In 1994, African Americans represented 33 percent of the county’s teaching corp and 69 percent of the total student population.11 Although the percentage of African-American teachers was still quite low, the results of the recruitment effort showed promise, given the short time that it had been in effect, and the fact that the pool of available African-American teachers across the country was low compared to white teachers. Despite the poor achievement of African-American students and differences in disciplinary action, from 1985 to 1989 gaps between African-American and white school age children on standardized tests diminished tremendously. In 1984, newly appointed superintendent of schools, John A. Murphy, asked that a study be done on the achievement rates of AfricanAmerican and white children enrolled in the county’s school system. The results of the study showed that although scores on the California Achievement Test increased for both African-American and white children in the eighth grade, African-American test scores were consistently lower than white test scores. In 1984, the African-American/white ratio for the average score on the California Achievement Test for eighth graders was 0.65. By 1988, the gap had narrowed to 0.77, which was the highest it had ever been, and it remained relatively consistent through 1989. The 1984 African-American/white average test score ratio for fifth graders was 0.66. By 1989, the gap had diminished to a ratio of 0.78. Similarly, the African-American/white average test score ratio for third graders increased from 0.69 in 1984 to 0.81 in 1989.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

51

8/13/02, 9:23 PM

52

SOCIAL

AND


As a result of diminishing gaps in test scores between African-American and white children on the California Achievement Tests, school officials believed that their efforts in bridging the gaps between white and AfricanAmerican students had succeeded. Former Superintendent of Schools Murphy received nationwide accolades for diminishing disparities and raising test scores above the national averages. Nonetheless, African Americans in Prince George’s County remained dissatisfied by what they called “a lack of substantive gains in improving African-American student achievement.”12 The last year in which the State of Maryland used the California Achievement Test to measure student achievement was 1989. In 1991, the state began using a more rigorous test that gauged the achievement of Prince George’s County students according to national standards—the Comprehensive Test of Basic Skills. Although student achievement had increased overall under the old test, the new test revealed widening disparities between white and African-American school-age children. For the 1990–91 school year, African-American students scored more than twenty points below their white peers, and within at least two categories the gaps were thirty points or more. For example, math scores for African-American eighth-grade boys only reached the 19th percentile, while white boys scored in the 57th percentile.13 The disparity in African-American and white student achievement makes education one of the chief issues facing African Americans in Prince George’s County. As we will see in Chapter 6, the battle for quality education for African-American children in Prince George’s County has been one of great complexity, marred by controversy throughout the suburban county.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN/AFRICAN-AMERICAN COMPARISONS Despite the fact that African Americans have lagged behind whites, they have outdistanced African Americans in Maryland and the United States on most socioeconomic indicators. The 1990 median value of AfricanAmerican, owner-occupied housing in Prince George’s County greatly exceeded the values of African-American, owner-occupied housing in the nation, and in the State of Maryland (see Table 3.5). In Montgomery County, however, African-American, owner-occupied housing values exceeded the median level for African-Americans in Prince George’s County by $47,900—a value close to the median African-American, owner-occupied housing value in the United States. However, Prince George’s County’s rate of African-American, owneroccupied units exceeded those in all jurisdictions described. The proportion of all African-American housing units that were owner occupied in Prince

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

52

8/13/02, 9:23 PM


53

Table 3.5 Housing Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Prince George Montgomery County County % of Total Population

Maryland

U.S.A.

52

12.2

23

12.1

$112,100

$160,000

$84,900

$53,100

Median Rent Payment

$599

$666

$419

$319

% Owner Occupied

49%

36%

43%

43%

AfricanAmerican/White Owner Ratio

0.70

0.49

0.60

0.63

% Renter Occupied

51%

54%

57%

57%

AfricanAmerican/White Renter Ratio

1.65

2

2.04

1.78

Median Value Owner Occupied

SOURCE:

Bureau of the Census, Housing Tenure by Race, 1990 report.

George’s County was 49 percent in 1990. The proportion of all AfricanAmerican housing units that were owner occupied in the United States, the State of Maryland, and Montgomery County, on the other hand was 43 percent, 43 percent, and 36 percent, respectively. African-American median family income in Prince George’s County exceeded the United States, the State of Maryland, and Montgomery County rates in 1990. The African-American/white family income gaps also were far lower in Prince George’s County than in the other jurisdictions (see Table 3.6). Equally significant, Prince George’s County has the lowest AfricanAmerican family and African-American individual poverty rates compared to other jurisdictions represented. Therefore, in terms of median family income and poverty, African Americans in Prince George’s County fare better than African Americans comparatively in all jurisdictions, including Montgomery County, even though Montgomery County, overall, is more affluent.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

53

8/13/02, 9:24 PM

54

SOCIAL

AND


Table 3.6 Income Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Prince George Montgomery County County Under $10,000

State of Maryland

U.S.A.

4.7

6.5

13.2

24.2

$10–24,999

14.8

17.7

22.8

29.8

$25–49,999

37.3

33.7

34.7

30.0

$50–99,999

38.5

34.1

26.2

14.5

$100,000+

4.8

8.3

3.2

1.5

Family Poverty

5.1

7.0

14.0

26.3

2.68

4.4

4.1

3.8

$45,198

$44,019

$33,908

$22,429

0.85

0.66

0.70

0.60

African-American/ White Family Poverty Ratio Median Family Income African-American/ White Income Ratio

SOURCE: U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population, Summary Social, Economic, and Housing Characteristics, 1990 report.

As Table 3.7 shows, the rate of African-American unemployment in Prince George’s County also was lower than both the national and state unemployment rates. It was, however, larger than in Montgomery County. Although Montgomery County African Americans were considerably better educated than Prince George’s County African Americans, the latter nonetheless exceeded the education attainment of African Americans across the nation and in the State of Maryland (see Table 3.8). Despite the fact that a greater proportion of Montgomery County African Americans had high school diplomas, the African-American/white high school graduate ratio, albeit small, was higher in Prince George’s County, at 0.99, compared to 0.96 in Montgomery County. Therefore, African Americans in Prince George’s County are closer to their white counterparts in the number of high school graduates than in Montgomery County. African Americans in Prince George’s County attained a greater proportion of bachelor’s degrees than their cohorts in the State of Maryland and

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

54

8/13/02, 9:24 PM


55

Table 3.7 Employment Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Prince George Montgomery County County Total 16 Years + Employed

Maryland

U.S.A.

273,898

69,623

882,977

21,386,343

Civilian Labor Force

51.3

12.5

24.0

10.6

Employed

95.0

95.6

92.0

87.1

5.2

4.4

8.0

12.9

Unemployed


Table 3.8 Education Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County, Montgomery County, Maryland, and U.S.A. Prince George County

U.S.A.

State of Maryland

Montgomery County

217,815

16,761,234

707,379

56,399


31.0

28.0

29.2

20.1

Bachelor’s Degree

13.7

7.5

10.2

22.0

African-American/ White Ratio

0.76

0.54

0.60

0.79

Graduate and Professional Degrees

6.5

3.8

5.8

15.4


0.56

0.49

0.48

0.63

% High School Graduates

83.1

63.1

70.6

87.3


0.99

0.81

0.87

0.96

Total 25+


32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

55

8/13/02, 9:24 PM

56

SOCIAL

AND


across the nation. However, the proportion of Montgomery County African Americans with bachelor’s degrees far exceeded Prince George’s County’s rate. Similar figures exist in the proportion of African Americans with graduate or professional degrees. While the proportion of African-American Prince Georgians with graduate or professional degrees exceeded the rate for their cohorts in the State of Maryland and nationwide, the proportion is much larger among African Americans in Montgomery County. Ironically, as we have seen above, these gains did not translate into higher median family incomes or lower family poverty rates for African Americans in Montgomery County. Thus while African Americans in Prince George’s County exhibit lower educational attainment and hold positions in lower occupation categories, they have higher median family incomes and lower family poverty rates than African Americans in Montgomery County. The differences in educational attainment, however, may make education a more salient issue in Prince George’s County. In addition to ranking above African Americans in socioeconomic characteristics in the United States and the State of Maryland, African Americans in Prince George’s County, as is to be expected, rank much higher on socioeconomic characteristics than do urban African Americans living in Baltimore City.

PRINCE GEORGE’S/BALTIMORE COMPARISONS Table 3.9 illustrates the socioeconomic disparities existing between African Americans in suburban Prince George’s County, Maryland, and Baltimore City. The proportion of African Americans within the population of Prince George’s County and Baltimore is similar. Given the major socioeconomic disparities between African Americans in Prince George’s County and Baltimore, however, this is where the similarities end. The African-American unemployment rate in Prince George’s County was far lower than in Baltimore. A greater proportion of African-American Prince Georgians obtained a high school diploma or better, and AfricanAmerican median household income in Prince George’s County was approximately double the rate for African-American Baltimoreans. Equally significant, the proportion of African-American families that lived below the poverty level in Baltimore was four times higher than in Prince George’s County. Clearly the characteristics between city and suburb differ sharply. These realities reflect the impact of deindustrialization and a growing mismatch between available jobs and the skill levels of those living in urban areas. While these factors have had an impact on nearly every locality, the results are far more devastating for cities such as Baltimore compared to suburban Prince George’s County.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

56

8/13/02, 9:24 PM


57

Table 3.9 Socioeconomic Characteristics of African Americans (1990) Prince George’s County and Baltimore, Maryland Characteristic

Baltimore, Maryland


Proportion of Population

59.0%

52.0%

Unemployed

12.4%

5.2%


$21,035

25 Years + with High School Diploma

57.0%

83.1%

Family Poverty Rate

27.9%

6.5%

$41,265


The socioeconomic characteristics of Prince George’s County make it less likely than Baltimore to be inundated with problems associated with a declining tax base and attending to the needs of the poor. As a result, one might not expect the typical political battles that are waged in urban areas to occur as frequently as in suburbia. However, given the socioeconomic diversity of the African-American community in Prince George’s County, it may be more likely that class rather than race will mobilize the battle over resources.

SUMMARY This chapter has summarized and examined socioeconomic status in Prince George’s County. Although its total population comprises an affluent jurisdiction in comparison to the State of Maryland and the United States, it lags behind suburban Montgomery County in most socioeconomic indicators. This fact can be attributed to Montgomery County’s early zoning practices that resulted in the migration of more affluent, and mainly white, families to its jurisdiction. In 1990, African Americans represented 52 percent of the total population in suburban Prince George’s County and one of the largest concentrations of African-American affluence in the country. African Americans in

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

57

8/13/02, 9:24 PM

58

SOCIAL

AND


Prince George’s County lagged behind African Americans in Montgomery County in occupation and educational attainment. However, median family income was higher, and family poverty was lower for African Americans in Prince George’s County, despite the fact that Montgomery County, as a whole, is more affluent than Prince George’s County. Although African Americans in Prince George’s County are relatively affluent, they nonetheless lag behind white Prince Georgians in most socioeconomic categories. African-American socioeconomic status in the county did, however, rise on most socioeconomic indicators, as the African-American population increased. This suggests that the African Americans who migrated to the county had higher socioeconomic characteristics than did previous African-American residents. The African-American population in Prince George’s County represents two African-American communities with diverse socioeconomic characteristics. One African-American community is affluent with median family incomes remaining stable relative to white median family incomes, while the other African-American community is noted for significant family poverty rates in relation to white family poverty rates. Thus although African Americans in Prince George’s County are as a whole relatively affluent, disparities within the African-American community create the potential for diverse political objectives and goals. Diverse political objectives are particularly likely in the area of educational policies and goals. While gaps in African-American and white student achievement make it likely that education will be a salient issue for AfricanAmerican parents, the fact that a segment of the African-American student population achieves while another fails creates the possibility of divergent policy objectives. During the 1985–86 school year, for example, a segment of the AfricanAmerican student population reached achievement levels higher than the average for students of all races nationally. Nonetheless, total African-American student achievement fell far short of white student achievement. Similarly, while African Americans exhibit higher rates of poverty than did whites, there is nonetheless an appreciable affluent African-American presence within Prince George’s county. Thus just as there are significant gaps in the socioeconomic status and student achievement between African Americans and whites, these gaps also exist within the African-American community to a greater degree than they do among whites. The chapters that follow will examine the impact of these gaps on African Americans’ ability to mobilize and elect African Americans to office and to set forth a unified educational policy agenda.

32903_SP_JOH_CH03_045-058

58

8/13/02, 9:24 PM

Chapter Four

The Quest for African-American Political Representation in Prince George’s County, Maryland

INTRODUCTION In addition to tremendous changes in growth patterns, numerous changes have occurred in the political and social lives of African-American Prince Georgians over the past three decades. A striking example of the degree of political change is the success of archconservative George Wallace in the 1972 Prince George’s County presidential primary, and the subsequent success of liberal Jesse Jackson in the 1984 Prince George’s County presidential primary. Although each candidate represented distinctly different ideological positions, within a decade, the political climate in Prince George’s County shifted dramatically. Changes within the governing coalition in Prince George’s County have come at a considerable cost to African-American Prince Georgians and have been spread over the more-than-century-long period beginning in the mid1860s and continuing into the current decade. This chapter addresses the patterns of transactions and interactions between African-American political leaders and the white-controlled political organization(s), and the extent to which they have resulted in changes in the governing coalition. Significant to this discussion is the proportion of African Americans in the population; the degree of socioeconomic homogeneity, as measured by the resources of African-American community members; the extent to which African Americans have mobilized to elect African-American officials; and the strength, stability, and practices of the dominant political organization(s).

59

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

59

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

60

THE QUEST

FOR

AFRICAN-AMERICAN POLITICAL REPRESENTATION

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY BEFORE 1950 The Reconstruction period following the Civil War meant little to the political lives of African Americans living in Maryland, and particularly in Prince George’s County. Unlike the experiences of other Southern states, the political lives of African Americans in Prince George’s County were limited during the Reconstruction. The election of Arthur King in 1966 as the first AfricanAmerican delegate to the General Assembly from Prince George’s County, however, began to change that reality. Prior to the election of Arthur King, African-American political involvement in Prince George’s County had been limited to participation at the local and state levels. It was not until the early 1900s that African Americans were given opportunities to participate on the national level within the Republican Party. All of the former Confederate states were more amenable to African-American participation in the Republican Party than was the Union State of Maryland. During the Reconstruction and immediate post-Reconstruction periods (between 1865 and 1901), the former Confederate states sent twentytwo African-American men to Congress; the State of Maryland did not send any and barely allowed African-American participation on the national level in Republican Convention activities.1 After the ratification of the fifteenth Amendment, Maryland’s voting population increased by 30 percent. Although the Republican Party reaped the total support of those who were recently enfranchised, there were no coinciding benefits to be gained for African-American Prince Georgians.2 In 1870, African Americans comprised 46 percent of Prince George’s population, and although a formidable portion of the electorate, they were never able to rise within the ranks of the Republican Party, let alone the closed ranks of the Democratic Party. Only upon realizing the opportunity for electoral success against the Democratic Party did Republicans enthusiastically welcome African Americans within their ranks in time for the congressional elections of 1870.3 Democrats, on the other hand, ceaselessly attempted to prohibit African-American participation in local politics to thwart the advantage that the Republican Party received from the strength of the African-American vote.4 Despite limitations, African-American men were eager to participate in local politics, and early on they formed a network of Republican clubs across Prince George’s County. The primary activities of the clubs and their members were to teach potential voters how to register and cast their ballots and to provide general civic lessons relating to local government.5 It was not until 1875 that African-American men were allowed to participate in state-level Republican Party activities. Between 1875 and 1890

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

60

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

The Quest for African-American Political Representation

61

four African-American political pioneers—Samuel L. R. Jennings, William Lane Watkins, Eugene Wright Newman, and Dr. Jeremiah Hawkins—became the first African-American men from Prince George’s County to be elected delegates to the state Republican Central Committee.6 By 1893, African Americans made up 43 percent of the population, and African-American men comprised approximately 30 percent of all registered voters. Despite their numbers and participation rates, however, AfricanAmerican men were continually subordinated within the Republican Party structure and totally disenfranchised from the Democratic Party.7 AfricanAmerican subordination within the Republican Party in Prince George’s County, as elsewhere, was largely the result of the Republican Party’s desire to appeal to Southern Democrats.8 Despite their continued subordination within the party structure, African-American men worked diligently, giving the Republican Party the edge that was necessary to predominate in state politics. Adding further insult to injury, Republican Party candidates supported by the African-American vote often were supportive of policies and positions that were antithetical to African-American interests. An example was the open opposition that Republican gubernatorial candidate Lloyd Lowndes exhibited toward the Civil Rights Act of 1875 (which sought to provide equal access to public facilities without regard to race). Having no viable alternatives, African Americans supported his candidacy, providing him with the margin of victory necessary to defeat the Democratic Party challenger. To them, “Lowndes was simply the lesser of two evils.”9 Another example of the Republican Party’s refusal to provide equitable representation to African-American Prince Georgians involved the selection process for delegates to the 1916 Republican National Convention. Despite winning more votes than his white opponent, Dr. Jeremiah Hawkins was denied his delegate seat at the convention.10 As a result of the incident, African Americans in Prince George’s County began their slow exodus from the Republican Party. Despite growing opposition within the African-American community toward the Republican Party, some African Americans, including the editorial staff of the Washington Bee newspaper (an African-American newspaper, published in Washington, D.C.), continued to encourage African-American support for the Republican Party.11 The Democrats were dubious allies who had for years persistently challenged and thwarted African-American political participation in the state. In 1901, the state legislature, dominated by the Democrats, passed an election law that eliminated straight ticket voting. Instead, the simple method was replaced with a difficult and convoluted system that “prohibited Party groupings of candidates, removed all Party emblems from the ballot, prohibited

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

61

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

62

THE QUEST

FOR


assistance for voters in marking their ballots, and grouped candidates’ names alphabetically with their Party affiliations spelled out after each name.”12 The measure, true to its intent, disenfranchised illiterate African-American voters and gave the Democrats the margin of victory necessary to maintain control. The loss of African-American political participation was, however, serendipitous to illiterate African Americans who benefited tremendously by Republican efforts to teach them how to read and how to identify Republican Party candidates on the ballot. As a result of their success with AfricanAmerican voters, the Republican Party was able to secure several seats in the election of 1902. Other examples of the Democratic Party’s persistence were the Poe amendment of 1904 (named after University of Maryland Law Professor John Prentiss Poe) and the Straus amendment of 1907. Both amendments supported restrictions comparable to the grandfather clause and literacy tests used throughout the South to exclude African-American voter participation. The Straus amendment, however, was more careful than the Poe amendment in its attempt to protect white voters who were illiterate by allowing verbal examinations in some cases. Though unsuccessful in subsequent referendum votes, both measures attest to the extremes that the Democratic Party was willing to go to disenfranchise African Americans.13 It was not until the passage of the twentieth Amendment and the subsequent participation and efforts of African-American female activists, such as Hester V. King (founder of Prince George’s County’s NAACP) and Helen Bell Cardoza, that African Americans began to participate in National Republican Party activities. As a result of African Americans’ burgeoning power within the party, Dr. Jeremiah Hawkins, who previously had been denied his seat, was finally elected as a delegate to the 1920, 1924, 1928, and 1932 Republican Party conventions.14 During the Great Depression, African Americans in Prince George’s County, just like African Americans across the nation, joined the Democratic Party. Decades would pass, however, before their support would reap local benefits. Finally, in 1966, Democrat Arthur King, son of NAACP founder Hester V. King, became the first African-American delegate from Prince George’s County to the Maryland General Assembly.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN THE 1950S African-American organizations and individuals have attempted to organize and mobilize the African-American population in Prince George’s County since the mid-1950s.15 Much to their chagrin, however, electoral mobilization and unity have been relatively elusive as a result of divisions within the

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

62

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


63

African-American community. Divisiveness in the African-American community, however, is in no way unique to suburbia. Boston is just one example of the socioeconomic and ideological differences among African-American community members in their quest for political incorporation. In the Boston case, fragmentation between the bourgeois-based NAACP and the Urban League and grassroots organizations and the clergy remains a problem. Socioeconomic disparities within the African-American community exacerbate these tensions and eliminate the possibilities of establishing a united front.16 One of the main factors that inhibited African-American mobilization efforts in Prince George’s County is the strength of influential members of the Democratic Party organization. Another barrier has been the insistence of some African-American officials to go it alone, in line with precepts that encourage diverse leadership and interests. The foundation of this division lies in the diverse socioeconomic makeup of the African-American community in Prince George’s County. African-American elected officials in the county have typically aligned themselves along distinct divisions within the African-American and white communities. These factors working in tandem have frustrated the evolution of a unified African-American politics in Prince George’s County and have subsequently limited the voting strength of the African-American electorate. The earliest recollection of those interviewed for this book, of the many organizational efforts that attempted to foster African-American inclusion in local governmental affairs is the Independent Democrats, organized in the mid-1950s. Although this effort did not culminate in the election of African Americans, it was instrumental in electing liberal whites such as Gladys Noon Spelman, as well as influencing African-American appointments. Prior to the establishment of the Independent Democrats, AfricanAmerican political participation was confined to lobbying the county government and private businesses to include African Americans. Early accomplishments included establishing a Human Relations Commission for county government and hiring Cora Rice as the first African-American teller at Suburban Trust Savings Bank. Later efforts resulted in African-American appointments to the state attorney’s office, the Human Relations Board, and the Board of Elections. According to the late former County Council member Deborah Marshall, “these concessions were given to the various ‘leaders’ who weren’t in charge enough to be elected— but who the white folks went to for the votes.”17 The small African-American population in Prince George’s County in the 1950s—12 percent of the total population—would have rendered the election of an African-American candidate unlikely without tremendous backing. Marshall’s remark does, however, address the nature of political interactions between the African-American and white communities. As had been

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

63

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

64

THE QUEST

FOR


the experience with the Republican Party during the late nineteenth century, African-American voter participation was only courted when it was in the interest of white political power brokers. According to late community activist Cora Rice, “they [machine members] use[d] to send pigs’ feet, chitterlings, whiskey, and beer into the black community the night before the election, and the next morning the black people would vote for them.”18 The power of the mighty Sasscer machine in Prince George’s County “lay in the political indifference of the unconcerned.”19

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN THE 1960S By the 1960s, as the civil rights movement was galvanizing African Americans across the country, African-American Prince Georgians were becoming more interested in politics in the county. The establishment of the Cosmopolitan Democratic Club was one significant mobilization effort designed to promote African-American political inclusion. The club focused its efforts on involving African Americans in local politics. Forums led by officials, administrators, and department heads from county government were a prominent activity designed to familiarize African Americans with the workings of local government in Maryland. Another organization that grew out of the Cosmopolitan Democratic Club was the Black Ad Hoc Committee. The goal of the committee was to unify and run African-American candidates for political office. Its members included Cora Rice, Dr. Robinson, Reverend Perry Smith, and Arthur King, who became Prince George’s County’s first African-American delegate to the state assembly. Arthur King was elected to the state assembly in 1966. Although largely supported by the Black Ad Hoc Committee, he sought and received the endorsement of the County Democratic Central Committee. The Black Ad Hoc Committee was instrumental in the election of Charlie Jackson as the first African-American member to the Democratic Central Committee in 1966. Labor also was key to Jackson’s election on the committee. Until the decline of the Sasscer organization, both African Americans and labor had little influence in county politics. However, with the reform movement abreast in Prince George’s County, key members of the liberal white segment of the Democratic Party organization, such as Tom Farrington, Peter O’Malley, and Steny Hoyer, began to include African Americans and labor. In 1968, Jesse J. Warr became the third African-American official in Prince George’s County when he was appointed to the board of education by then-Governor, Spiro Agnew. At the close of the decade of the 1960s, three African-American officials were in county government. However, only two, King and Warr, occupied

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

64

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


65

primary policy-making positions. Although minuscule, the sudden growth in African-American representation paralleled the 1962–1966 decline and overthrow of the Sasscer organization by the more liberal- and reform-minded segment of the Democratic Party. In 1969, African Americans comprised 14 percent of Prince George’s County’s growing population. As 14 percent of the population, African Americans were nowhere near their potential as a power base in county politics. However, with only two African-American officials in primary policymaking positions, there were few instances in which disunity was evident among them. This, however, changed during the decade of the 1970s. The sections that follow track major mobilization efforts in the AfricanAmerican community during the primary period of study (1970–1994). Although the number of cases is limited, the level of unity among African Americans in the electoral arena and the strength, stability, and practices of the dominant governing coalition are illuminated.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN THE 1970S In 1969, Tommie Broadwater, then a new political aspirant on the scene, and a newly elected Glenarden City Council member, was encouraged by the Black Ad Hoc Committee and by African-American Central Committee member Charlie Jackson to run for the Democratic Central Committee. Broadwater won a seat in the 1970 election and, as a result of Jackson’s defeat, became the lone African-American on the Central Committee. Mobilization Effort #1 In 1974, with the encouragement of Central Committee chair Tom Farrington and Democratic organization leaders Steny Hoyer and Peter F. O’Malley, Broadwater was tapped and slated by the Blue Ribbon Selection Committee to run in a newly carved state senate seat. The committees’ selection created turmoil for the Black Ad Hoc Committee, because he was slated to run against then-state delegate Arthur King who, with the committee’s help, was attempting to become the first African-American state senator from Prince George’s County. Broadwater accepted the nomination despite the fact that Arthur King, who had already served two terms in the State House of Delegates, had already declared his candidacy. The political battle between King and Broadwater became the first major political division within the AfricanAmerican community, and it unwittingly laid the foundation for the evolution of African-American politics in Prince George’s County.

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

65

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

66

THE QUEST

FOR


The race between Broadwater and King highlighted disagreement within the African-American community over the best strategies to pursue AfricanAmerican political empowerment. The race also illuminated class differences in the candidate selection process. According to several former African-American elected officials who were interviewed for this book, Arthur King and Tommie Broadwater were complete opposites. On one end of the spectrum, King was educated, articulate, independent, and unwilling to go along with the agenda of the Democratic Party organization. On the other hand, Tommie Broadwater was loud and boisterous, sported a big Afro hairstyle, wore platform shoes, was inarticulate, and was considered a pawn of the white political establishment. The Black Ad Hoc Committee maintained its support for King and viewed Broadwater’s decision to run as a betrayal of the African-American community’s interests. The Democratic Party structure, as Broadwater’s sponsor, was equally viewed as an impediment to African-American independent political advancement. Black Ad Hoc Committee members strongly believed that the Democratic organization’s support for Broadwater was based on their perception of him as a person whose personal interests would override the interests of the African-American community. At a time when African Americans represented such a small proportion of the population, they believed that it was important to exhibit unity. With the aid of the ticket, Broadwater defeated King in the 1974 primary election by a 3 to 1 margin, and “laid claim to any spoils allocated to the African-American community.”20 Broadwater’s brash style provided tangible rewards (especially in the area of appointments) to the African-American community, however, his leadership style and association with the white Democratic Party power structure were a bane for many who sought a power base independent of the Democratic Party structure. Between 1970 and 1974, fragmentation besieged the Democratic Party structure and led to the election of Republican County Executive William Gullett. For the more liberal and reform-minded element in the Democratic Party structure, Broadwater seemed the better choice to accomplish their goal of bringing African-American voters into the fold in order to break the lingering stalemate within the party. In 1974, the African-American population mainly resided in Broadwater’s 25th district. Although minuscule, it offered the more liberal element within the organization, led by Hoyer and O’Malley, the balance of power necessary to defeat their opponents within the Democratic and Republican parties. The strategy assumed by Hoyer and O’Malley mirrored the Republican Party a century earlier when they courted African-American participation to gain hegemony in county politics. Similarly, during a time when African Ameri-

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

66

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


67

cans began to organize in the local political arena, liberal leaders within the Democratic Party extended its welcome through Arthur King, Charlie Jackson and, later, through Tommie Broadwater. Many African-American leaders in the community recognized Prince George’s growing African-American population as a potential voting bloc and made attempts to maximize their strength. For them, Broadwater’s political style was subversive to their agenda and pursued personal interest and political ambitions over that of the community’s. Further, it was thought that Broadwater provided African-American support to the organization at a minimal return to the African-American community. Thus for AfricanAmerican leaders, the Democratic Party structure’s recruitment of Broadwater was viewed as an attempt to receive African-American community support without the attendant requirement of offering African Americans full partnership within the governing coalition. As the lone African-American state senator, Broadwater became the intermediary between the Democratic Party power structure and the African-American community. As state senator, Broadwater was effective in pushing African-American appointments to various governmental boards. In return, the Democratic Party structure received the balance of power to elect its leaders to office. In 1974, with the help of Tommie Broadwater, the African-American community provided Steny Hoyer and Parris Glendening the balance of power necessary to win their respective state senate and county council seats. Steny Hoyer, Parris Glendening, Peter O’Malley, Gladys Noon Spelman, Ed Conroy, and Marty Emanuel represented the new leaders of the Democratic Party structure. They also represented the political antagonists of the more conservative element, whose power began to recede with the death of Sasscer in 1964. Although more liberal and inclusive of African Americans, this new breed, like their predecessors, fashioned what some perceived to be a political machine nonetheless. According to the Reverend Perry Smith, “we thought that we were helping to destroy the machine, then Pete O’Malley came into power, then Steny Hoyer, and then Mike Miller—we essentially helped to create another machine.” The difference between the two organizations was the degree to which they were oppressive to the African-American community’s agenda. According to Reverend Smith, “the Sasscer machine was overtly oppressive, you knew what they felt. This machine [the liberal machine] was oppressive as well, just more covert at it.” As discussed in Chapter 2, however, the new machine was quite different from the Sasscer machine, or common conceptions of machine politics. The new machine was merely a clublike organization and, as has been described, an alliance of the “in-group.” Its strength lay in its ability to provide formidable resources for the candidates tapped for political office. The Democratic

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

67

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

68

THE QUEST

FOR


Central Committee, along with their campaign resource arm, the Blue Ribbon Selection Committee, was very effective in garnering support for their slate through voter education and registration drives and fund-raisers. Although the days of the Sasscer machine had now ended, there was a new “boss” in the county—one that operated as a reform-oriented organization. There were key differences, however. According to Tommie Broadwater, the Sasscer era was different and projected a conservative mentality toward African-American inclusion. Peter O’Malley, on the other hand, understood the game of politics and preached inclusiveness, knowing that he could win in this manner. An example of this inclusiveness was African-American participation within the county’s Breakfast Club, which provided a forum for all of the major Democratic Party leaders and white and African-American elected officials. At such meetings, Tommie Broadwater, as the boss of African-American politics in the county, was able to further encourage African-American inclusion on the party’s slate and push through African-American appointments. According to Broadwater, this was a constant battle. Therefore, while Broadwater was in the fold, it was nonetheless difficult to wreak concessions from the party structure. Nevertheless, Broadwater assisted the organization in its quest for hegemony in county politics. In addition to Broadwater’s election as the African-American state senator, African Americans obtained other elective positions during the 1970s. In the 1974 election in which Broadwater won his state senate seat, Decatur Trotter and Nathaniel Exum won state assembly seats in Broadwater’s district. Both Trotter and Exum ran with Broadwater on the newly established Blue Ribbon slate. In July 1974, Floyd E. Wilson Jr. was appointed by the Democratic Central Committee to fill the seat left vacant by county council member Charles Callow, becoming the first African-American on the county council. In November of the same year, Wilson successfully ran and won his at-large seat on the county council. He ran and was successful again in the 1978 elections. Deborah R. Marshall also won an at-large council seat, bringing African-American representation to two members on the county council. In 1977, lone African-American board of education member Jesse Warr died. Bonnie Johns was slated by the Democratic Central Committee to fill the vacancy left by Warr’s death, and she served out the remainder of his 1976–1980 term. Although initially appointed to his seat in 1968, Jesse Warr had successfully defended it after 1973 when the board of education became an elected body in the county. In 1978, Nathaniel Exum successfully defended his seat in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. Joining him in the state assembly was

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

68

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


69

Sylvania Woods Jr., holding the number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state assembly at two. Mobilization Effort #2 In the same year, Broadwater found himself in the formidable position of his formal rival, Arthur King, when one of his running mates, Delegate Decatur Trotter, entered a bid for his senate seat. In his bid for the seat, Trotter lambasted Broadwater for the supposed illicit behavior that was routinely conducted outside of Broadwater’s nightclub, the Ebony Inn, and for bailing out a notorious drug dealer through his bail bondsmen business. Another grievance was Broadwater’s dependence on the white Democratic political establishment.21 Similar to the split that existed in the 1974 Broadwater–King race, Trotter was billed as the well-educated, highbrow representative of the middle class, while Broadwater was billed as the representative of the lower-income element within the African-American community. While several AfricanAmerican mayors in the district supported Trotter, Broadwater had the support of County Executive Winfield M. Kelly Jr. and the Democratic Party organization.22 With the continued support of the organization, Broadwater defeated Trotter by an overwhelming margin. Despite Broadwater’s reelection, once again the Democratic Party structure suffered a loss by the defeat of County Executive Kelly by Republican Lawrence Hogan. This time, however, the Democratic Party’s loss was less the result of internal fragmentation than the weakness of its candidate and growing white dissatisfaction. Kelly received considerable white backlash surrounding integration of the county’s school system, and as a result, he did not receive wide-based support from the party organization. In the span of a decade, the African-American population had again grown tremendously and had increased from 14 percent of the population in 1969 to 37 percent in 1979. Despite an overwhelming increase in the African-American population, the lack of African-American voter participation became an obstacle confronting the African-American community. Where predominantly white districts had a 50 percent voter registration rate, African-American precincts (dominated by apartment dwellers) had registration rates hovering at 25 percent.23 In 1970, there were only two African-American elected officials. By 1980, despite the fact that African Americans were 37 percent of the population, they occupied only six (12 percent) of the fifty-two seats on the three main policy-making bodies in the county—the county council, the board of education, and the county’s delegation to the state legislature. As we will see

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

69

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

70

THE QUEST

FOR


in the following section, the decade of the 1980s posed additional challenges for the alliance of African-American elected officials.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN THE 1980S At the beginning of the 1980s there had been two elections where two strong and popular African-American candidates had opposed one another. In both races, Broadwater received the support of the influential Democratic Central Committee and won by a large margin. When opposing Broadwater, King and Trotter had run against the Democratic Party machinery. Both candidates cited Broadwater’s ties to the Democratic Party organization as problematic and subversive to African-American political interests. Broadwater, however, considered his role as an African-American political boss essential and a means by which other African Americans were slated for election and brought into the political process. For example, when white state Senator B.W. Mike Donovan ran for reelection in District 25 in 1982, Broadwater maintains that he threatened to work toward Donovan’s defeat unless he placed Albert Wynn on his ticket. Consequently, Wynn was slated on the ticket and subsequently won a seat in the county delegation to the state assembly that year. Cora Rice and other African-American community activists, however, did not view Broadwater’s ability to slate African Americans as a major victory. According to Rice, “we got this big gift of putting some African-American people on a ticket from the African-American community when they didn’t need a ticket in the first place.”24 Conversely, Broadwater placed great emphasis on the ticket, realizing its potential to win. According to Broadwater, the ticket virtually guaranteed success at the polls. Both African Americans and whites adhered closely to the ticket/slate handed down by the Democratic Party’s elected leaders. Even if a white was running in a heavily populated African-American district, if the ticket supported that person the African-American community would follow suit. It is significant to note, however, that African-American adherence to the ticket was largely the result of Broadwater’s and other key African-American leaders’ efforts. Mobilization Effort #3 The effectiveness of Broadwater’s ability to bring out the African-American vote was undermined, however, in the 1980 congressional primary when Cora Rice and other African-American leaders backed Reuben Spellman against Steny Hoyer. Although Broadwater worked hard for Hoyer, the margin of

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

70

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


71

victory in his own district was a mere 182 votes.25 Hoyer ultimately won the election, however, the strength of the opposition in the African-American community exhibited its potential as a strong power base in county politics. In an attempt to overcome the power of the strong Democratic organization, twelve African-American ministers switched to the Republican Party in March 1982. According to the ministers, this was the only way to end the dominance of the machine. The ministers’ goal was to bring 10,000 new African-American Republicans with them.26 Reverend Perry Smith was among the ministers who switched party affiliations. In 1982, he unsuccessfully opposed Steny Hoyer for his congressional seat. Although Smith had tremendous African-American support, he could not beat the entrenched party organization. According to Smith, Hoyer confronted him, asking him not to run: “Perry what you need to understand is that you need to come into this circle.” Perry said he told Hoyer that he “needed to draw a bigger circle so they could all be in the circle. Right now you want us to cease to be— to assimilate— and we will never cease to be.” When the decade began, there were two African-American state delegates and one African-American state senator in the county’s delegation to the state legislature, one African-American on the board of education, and two African Americans on the county council. In 1982, Sarah Johnson was appointed by the county executive to fill the seat left vacant by white board of education member JoAnn T. Bell, bringing the number of African Americans on the board to two. Until Sarah Johnson’s appointment, Bonnie Johns had not had an African-American cohort on the board since Warr’s death in 1977. When Johnson was appointed, African Americans were 54 percent of the public school population.27 After the appointment of Roy I. Dabney to the 4th district county council seat in 1982, there were three African Americans on the county council. Dabney, however, lost his seat in the election later that year, and Deborah Marshall did not run for reelection. The 1982 election was the first year in which all members of the county council ran in single-member districts. Prior to this race, Floyd E. Wilson and Deborah Marshall had run in at-large seats. Considering that the African-American population was concentrated in a relatively small area of the county, their victories illustrated county-wide support for the Democratic Party slate. In his successful 1982 bid for his 5th district county council seat, Wilson faced opposition from African-American activist Cora Rice. Despite Marshall’s departure from the council, two African Americans remained on the county council as a result of Hilda Pemberton’s successful bid for the 7th district council seat. In her bid for the seat, Pemberton faced African-American challengers Charles E. Francis Jr. and Robert A. Spencer. Later in the general

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

71

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

72

THE QUEST

FOR


election, she faced opposition from African-American Republican Melvinor Williamson-Gray. The number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature increased to five in 1982, with the election of Albert Wynn and Christine Jones to the state assembly. In that year, the Maryland State Legislature had the highest percentage of African Americans in any state legislature in the country. There was, however, considerable disunity among them. In 1983, Broadwater’s reign as an African-American political boss came to a screeching halt when he was convicted for fraud for obtaining $70,000 in food stamps from an undercover federal agent posing as a thief. Broadwater subsequently processed the food stamps for cash through his Fairmount Heights supermarket. He served four and a half months in prison and spent four years on probation. However, a court ruling in 1989 allowed him to run for office again.28 Broadwater’s daughter who was also implicated in the food stamp scheme, was given probation instead of a jail term. Broadwater lamented that he cashed in all of his cards for his daughter and subsequently had to pay the piper by serving time himself. Mobilization Effort #4 The Democratic Central Committee, charged with selecting interim replacements, appointed former opponent and rival Decatur Trotter to fill Broadwater’s vacant seat. Trotter was appointed despite overwhelming support from African-American elected officials and community activists for African-American school board member Bonnie Johns.29 In addition to Johns, several other African-American elected officials sought to fill Broadwater’s vacancy. Although Broadwater participated in the effort to select a consensus candidate, no agreement could be reached.30 The Democratic Central Committee had selected Trotter with strong backing from state senate president Thomas V. Mike Miller. In addition to Broadwater, the three delegates from the district (one white and two African Americans) opposed him.31 Trotter’s victory once again showed the tremendous power of the Democratic Central Committee. Broadwater’s association with the machine had finally come full circle. As senate president, Mike Miller, a conservative and the major political antagonist of Broadwater and County Executive Parris Glendening, held the position of power within the party. During Trotter’s selection process, Miller was charged with playing “plantation politics” by choosing an African-American candidate who did not receive the support of other African-American elected officials. This incident proved to be one of many turning points for the African-American community and provided a line of demarcation for subsequent battles within the Democratic Party organization.

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

72

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


73

In the context of divisions within the party structure that pitted Mike Miller and newly elected County Executive Parris Glendening against each other, the support given to Trotter was viewed as an attempt to bring the African-American vote into the Miller camp. In the process, the AfricanAmerican community’s base of power became further fractionalized. Although the established white-controlled organization also was fragmented, the effect was far more devastating on the African-American community, because they remained members of the “out-group.” Mobilization Effort #5 The 1984 Democratic primary was the biggest rallying point and mobilization effort of African Americans in Prince George’s County. During the primary season, a number of African-American elected officials and community activists organized for Jesse Jackson’s bid for the Democratic nomination. This effort, while initially divided, ultimately joined African Americans who were previously unable to reach consensus. Wayne Curry, Perry Smith, Cora Rice, and former Michigan Congressman Charles Diggs headed the Prince George’s Progressive Caucus, the group working for Jackson. According to interviewees, the Jackson candidacy also served as a county-wide rallying point for the first Bowie State College Convention of African-American People, held in March 1984. The convention was attended by 300 African-American participants from diverse backgrounds and socioeconomic levels, and it provided workshops on police protection, political empowerment, the African-American family, economic development, and education. The efforts of the participants of the convention and the African-American community resulted in Jesse Jackson winning Prince George’s County with 43 percent of the vote. The 1984 appointment of Jerry Perry increased the number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature to six. Board of education member Bonnie Johns decided not to seek a third term, however, Barbara Martin replaced her, maintaining the number of African Americans on the board of education at two. Mobilization Effort #6 As a result of Jackson’s success in Prince George’s County, African-American elected officials, for the first time, felt their potential power and began to lobby the white-controlled power establishment for a place on the ticket for a countywide seat. The white establishment, realizing the newfound political power in the African-American community, dropped former state’s attorney Bud Marshall from the ticket in 1986 and replaced him with African-American attorney

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

73

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

74

THE QUEST

FOR


Alexander Williams. Williams was successful in the state’s attorney’s race, beating Marshall with 51.5 percent of the vote. Jackson’s and Williams’ victories exhibited the potential for African-American political ascendancy. In addition to the election of Alexander Williams, the 1986 elections resulted in another increase in the number of African-American officials in the county. In the 1986 election, Ulysses Currie, Gloria Lawlah, and Juanita Miller were elected to the state assembly. Also in that year Albert Wynn vacated his state assembly seat to become state senator, and Decatur Trotter won the state senate seat that he had been appointed to as a result of Broadwater’s conviction. The 1986 election brought the number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature to eight. In 1986, activist Cora Rice again unsuccessfully challenged Floyd Wilson for his county council seat. As a result of Hilda Pemberton’s second successful bid for her council seat, two African Americans remained on the county council. After the 1988 board of education election, the number of African Americans on the board of education also remained at two. By 1990, African Americans comprised 52 percent of the county’s population. Despite their numbers, African Americans held only 26 percent of the elective offices on the three main policy-making bodies in county government.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTORAL POLITICS IN THE 1990S Despite the unity exhibited in the Jackson and Williams elections, disunity among African-American elected officials and within the African-American community persisted and was met by an increasingly guarded Democratic Party structure. In early 1990, Cora Rice, then president of the NAACP, led a demonstration against County Executive Parris Glendening, criticizing him for failing to consult with African-American community leaders when he engineered a lucrative employment contract to retain School Superintendent John A. Murphy. Glendening sought to persuade Murphy to stay, despite growing opposition toward him in the African-American community. An earlier rift between the African-American leadership involved Glendening’s selection of a new police chief without public discussion or consultation with AfricanAmerican leaders, even in the face of continuing African-American complaints of police brutality.32 Another point of acrimony and an example of continuing disunity within the African-American community involved a demonstration led by a group of 200 African Americans from Prince George’s County against the county’s African-American delegation to the state legislature in Annapolis in February

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

74

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


75

1990. Responding to the tension, state Senator Decatur Trotter lamented, “we [African-American people] fight just like white people fight. We have our differences. That’s growth, that’s healthy.” This type of growth, however, potentially diluted the African-American vote at a time when African Americans had finally obtained the numbers necessary to win. The demonstration was held on behalf of state delegate Juanita D. Miller and was attended by former state Senator Broadwater. Miller had been disciplined by the speaker of the general assembly, R. Clayton Mitchell (DKent), for allowing a group of students to sing in the assembly chambers on Martin Luther King’s birthday, after he told her that it would not be allowed. Participants in the demonstration lambasted state delegate Ulysses Currie and state Senators Trotter and Wynn for “not standing up for Miller.”33 Before the primary race that year, Wynn, who had formerly pledged support for Miller, dropped her from his ticket, replacing her with Beatrice Tignor. In response to his action, Miller ran against him in a bitterly contested race. Similar to previous electoral campaigns between two African Americans, Miller and Wynn were billed as representatives of two socioeconomically diverse constituencies within the district. Miller, for example, was portrayed as the representative of the older, less affluent inner Beltway residents, and Wynn was characterized as the representative of the upwardly mobile residents to the north and east of the 25th district. Criticism aimed at Wynn claimed that service to the poorer AfricanAmerican communities of Suitland, Capitol Heights, and District Heights suffered as a result of his growing allegiance to the affluent African-American home owners of Kettering, Largo, and Mitchellville.34 Wynn nonetheless won the race with 58.6 percent of the vote. In the same primary race, Trotter barely defeated Broadwater in the state senate seat previously occupied by Broadwater, winning by a mere 346 votes. In many ways, Broadwater’s near victory was an accomplishment unto itself. Despite having been convicted on a food stamp violation, he retained the support of a substantial portion of African-American voters within the district. The Broadwater–Trotter race was significant and expressed much about the state of the county political organization. Although Trotter was the incumbent senator and was expected to receive the slate’s support, slate makers were divided in their support of both candidates. Excluding both candidates from the slate solved the dilemma. The 1990 election also saw an increase in the number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state assembly. In that year, Michael Arrington, Joanne Benson, and Beatrice Tignor won seats in the state assembly, and Gloria Lawlah won a state senate seat. Lawlah’s victory was significant, because she was the only candidate who had, at that time, run against the main slate and won. The victories and losses of the year brought the total

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

75

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

76

THE QUEST

FOR


number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature to an unprecedented ten members. The election of Frederick Hutchinson in 1990 brought the number of African Americans on the board of education to three members. In his first bid for elective office, Hutchinson thoroughly trounced African-American challenger Anthony Dean and went on to beat his white general election challenger, James Davis. Floyd Wilson vacated his county council seat in the 1990 election for an unsuccessful bid for the county executive seat. Although Wilson had been able to win county wide in an at-large seat from 1974 to 1982, he was unable to beat prominent party leader Parris Glendening, who received 83 percent of the vote in the race. James Fletcher filled the void that Wilson left, thereby holding the number of African Americans on the county council to two. In his first bid for a county council seat, Fletcher faced African-American opposition in the primary from Verna Teasdale. In addition to Wilson’s challenge of Parris Glendening for the county executive seat, African-American Abdul Alim Muhammad challenged Steny Hoyer for his 5th congressional district seat. Hoyer beat Muhammad by a large margin, winning 79 percent of the vote. Both Wilson and Muhammad focused their campaigns on race-related issues, while the incumbents built their campaigns on coalitions joining African Americans and whites. What is striking about the defeat is that both challengers suffered tremendous losses in heavily African-American populated areas. According to former state Senator Albert R. Wynn and state’s attorney Alexander Williams, Wilson and Muhammad may have misjudged voters in a county with one of the nation’s most affluent, best-educated African-American populations. “You have to be sensitive and resolve issues. You can’t be too AfricanAmerican and you can’t be too white. You have to be right there in the middle,”35 said Williams. In 1992, African-American Alvin Thornton and Beverly Beander won seats on the board of education. In 1993, Kenneth E. Johnson was appointed by Parris Glendening to fill the vacancy left by African-American member Brenda Hughes. Johnson’s appointment brought African-American membership on the board to four. In March 1991, state delegate Sylvania Woods Jr. resigned when Maryland state prosecutors charged him with stealing more than $12,000 in campaign contributions and fraudulently collecting more than $46,000 in sales commissions from three cellular telephone companies. Carolyn J. B. Howard was subsequently appointed by the Democratic Central Committee to fill his seat. Howard’s appointment broke a long-standing tradition of filling open

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

76

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


77

seats with candidates who had been handpicked by the state senator from the district and the African-American leadership. In this case, both candidates for the position were African American. However, the Black Alliance felt that the Democratic Party structure had undermined them by handpicking a candidate that had not, as is typical, been endorsed by them or the African-American state senator (Trotter) in the district affected. The alliance unsuccessfully challenged the appointment in court.36 This incident was one of many instances where the county’s AfricanAmerican political leadership felt that its views had not been taken into account by the Democratic Party structure. Albert Wynn and Alex Williams were most vocal about the infraction. Both lamented that the old days were gone, and that the African-American leadership would no longer automatically go along with the Democratic Party structure. In 1992, Beatrice Tignor ran for and won the state senate seat left vacant by Albert Wynn’s departure to run for the newly carved out 4th congressional district seat. After the 1992 election, there were three African-American senators and six African-American delegates—a total of nine—in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. Mobilization Effort #7 The race for the newly carved out 4th congressional seat in 1992 was by far the most interesting race for African Americans. The redistricting process created one new minority and four new African-American districts in the county and a new U.S. congressional district (District 4), which was 58 percent African-American and nearly 70 percent minority. One-third of the new congressional district, which previously covered only Prince George’s County, was in majority-white-populated Montgomery County. The remaining two-thirds continued to encompass Prince George’s County. The creation of the seat resulted from intense pressure from AfricanAmerican elected officials in the county and from the 1986 Thornburg v. Gingles U.S. Supreme Court decision, which encouraged the creation of African-American majority seats nationwide. Albert Wynn and Alexander Williams opposed each other in the newly created seat. Williams received a one-percentage point-victory in Prince George’s County, however, he lost the race by two percentage points to Wynn. Wynn won by receiving 21 percent of the vote in Montgomery County over Williams’ 14 percent. The race was significant in terms of its implications on African-American political leadership and mobilization in Prince George’s County. Although the race involved a seat in a majority African-American district, the

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

77

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

78

THE QUEST

FOR


large pool of well-known African-American candidates in the race made it possible for a white challenger to win. Of the top six contenders, four were African-American and were either serving in an elected position or had served in an elected position in the county. The third placed challenger, white state delegate Dana Lee Dembrow, from Montgomery County, received 41 percent of the vote from his home base but lost hands down in Prince George’s County, receiving only 4 percent of the vote. Dembrow had cast himself as a minority in a field of largely AfricanAmerican candidates and had focused his campaign in and around Montgomery County. Responding to the way the district was drawn, Dembrow said that “it was set up to make it difficult for someone like me to get elected, and there are a lot of people that are very concerned that their issues would be overlooked.”37 Many of Dembrow’s constituents voiced the same sentiments and expressed it via the ballot box. For example, one white resident in Montgomery County said, “I am frankly really upset by the unspoken words of the Prince George’s politicians who say African-American political officials need to consolidate around one candidate so a white person from Montgomery County does not win.” Another Montgomery County resident said, “it is wrong for them to feel that it [the newly formed district] is an entitlement.”38 Nonetheless, many political pundits felt that the deluge of African-American candidates in the race suggested that African Americans were not a cohesive group in county politics. Ron Walters, then-chairman of Howard University’s Political Science Department, had the following remarks regarding the number of African-American candidates in the race: You look at all those candidates and it tells you that there is something uncohesive about the nature of the political system in the county . . . It is ultimately a mark of unsophistication . . . because all the candidates have to know that they will split up the vote and lose an opportunity to bring that county’s political representation more in line with its population.39 In an attempt to thwart the potential of that occurring, African-American religious and community leaders made an effort to close ranks behind Williams. Wynn, on the other hand, received the bulk of his support from labor unions and several Montgomery County legislators and council members.40 Although supported by some leaders in the African-American community, Williams rejected the role of African-American political boss. Running a campaign that deemphasized race, he stressed the politics of inclusion. He said, “I speak for everyone in this diverse community, for all of the people, all of the races, all of the ethnic groups.” In addition, he noted that Prince

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

78

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


79

George’s County included a sophisticated African-American middle class that would not go along blindly with machine-type politics. He also maintained that affluent African-American Prince Georgians were not only concerned about historical African-American issues but also typical suburban concerns such as property values, transportation, and the environment.41 In the final analysis, Williams’ universal appeal could not garner him the percentage of the Montgomery County vote necessary to claim victory. Instead, the highest vote total in Montgomery County in the 4th district race went to white state delegate Dana Lee Dembrow.42 An alternate explanation for the deluge of African-American candidates in the 4th district congressional race was that the African-American community had come of age, had encompassed diverse constituents and leaders and thus, like whites, had sought opportunities to vie for open seats, based on particular interests versus racial considerations. This explanation, however, obscures the larger reality that African-American representation was not commensurate to their numbers in the population. As the history of Prince George’s politics shows, African Americans have had to surmount tremendous obstacles to become equal partners within the county’s governing coalition. Although the obstacles in many instances centered around African-American disunity, there has been tremendous resistance from outside the African-American community from dominant political actors. Before the 1994 election, African Americans occupied fifteen (30 percent) of the then-fifty seats on the county’s primary policy-making boards (the county council, the board of education, and the county’s delegation to the state legislature). The proportion of African-American officials would increase significantly after the 1994 elections, albeit still not in proportion to the number of African Americans in the population. Mobilization Effort #8 Similar to the 1992 4th congressional race, the 1994 county executive race again pitted strong African-American candidates against one another. And again, there was the chance that a white candidate— county council member Sue Mills— might win the race. Similar to previous fractures within the Democratic Party structure, Wayne Curry received the support of outgoing County Executive Parris Glendening, while Beatrice Tignor had the support of conservative State Senate President Mike Miller. In previous elections, Sue Mills had received considerable African-American support in her district. In the end, Wayne Curry won the primary election with “substantial support from predominantly white precincts.” Sue Mills ran far behind both Curry and Tignor, receiving 20 percent of the vote, compared to Curry’s 42 percent

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

79

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

80

THE QUEST

FOR


and Tignor’s 36 percent.43 In the November general election, Curry won against Republican nominee Robert B. Ostrom by a 2 to 1 margin.44 In addition to U.S. Congressman Albert Wynn, Tignor received the support of other Mike Miller allies within the county’s delegation to the state legislature. Wynn initially was recruited for political office by Broadwater and thus by default had been a Glendening ally. However, after the 1983 split between Miller and Glendening over the Broadwater–Trotter race, Wynn had moved over to the Miller camp. In addition to Curry’s historic victory as the first African-American elected county executive in Prince George’s County, African-American membership on the county council doubled from two to four after the election. As a result of term limits and the death of former African-American council member Fletcher, all of the African-American council members were new. All four African-American board of education members ran unopposed. The number of African-American representatives in the Prince George’s County delegation to the state legislature rose from nine to eleven (three African-American senators and eight-African-American delegates). In addition to the aforementioned races, African-American Jack Johnson succeeded Alex Williams as state’s attorney after he was appointed to a federal judgeship in early 1994. Johnson had been deputy state’s attorney under Williams.45 As Figure 4.1 shows, after the 1994 election, total African-American representation on the county council, board of education, and the county delegation to the state legislature rose to 38 percent, up from 30 percent prior to the election.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN MOBILIZATION EFFORTS IN THE ELECTORAL ARENA The model guiding this study asserts the importance of mobilization efforts to elect African Americans as a group organizational resource in the AfricanAmerican community. Over the primary period of study, the African-American community made several attempts to mobilize to elect African Americans to political office. An examination of key mobilization efforts points to several significant trends. For one, African-American consensus rarely occurred. Out of the eight major mobilization efforts that were examined, consensus was reached twice. Jesse Jackson’s 1984 victory in the Democratic Party primary election demonstrated the possibility of an African-American winning a countywide office. In 1986, a unified African-American community pressed the Democratic Central Committee to place an African-American on the ticket for a county-wide seat. In response, the Democratic Central Committee withdrew its support for state’s attorney Bud Marshall and slated

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

80

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

Figure 4.1 African-American Elected Officials, 1970–1994 (Board of Education, County Council, and County Delegation to the State Legislature)

◆ 81

35

◆

30 ◆

25

20 ◆

% Black Elected Officials

15 ◆ 8/13/02, 9:30 PM

10

5

◆


40

0 1980

1990

1992

1994

81

1970

82

THE QUEST

FOR


Alexander Williams for the seat. As a testament to the power of AfricanAmerican unity, Williams subsequently beat Marshall, garnering 52 percent of the vote. Prior to and proceeding these two unified efforts, mobilization was punctuated by intense rivalry and an inability to galvanize behind a unified slate of candidates. As a result, African-American representation has not been commensurate to the proportion of African Americans in the county, and the white-controlled Democratic Party establishment has been able to maintain power within the electoral arena. In six of eight major mobilization efforts, African Americans were split in their choice of candidates. In four of the six cases, the candidate who was supported by a unified Democratic Central Committee subsequently won. Mobilization efforts within the African-American community typically focused on discouraging African Americans from running against one another. These attempts repeatedly failed when the Democratic Central Committee slated African-American candidates who were not the popular favorites within the African-American community. In this manner, the Democratic Central Committee was able to consistently thwart African-American unity. This was particularly the case in Broadwater’s 1974 and 1978 races. In the remaining two mobilization efforts, the 1992 congressional race and the 1994 county executive race, the top leaders within the Democratic Party organization (Mike Miller and Parris Glendening) were divided in their support for two African-American candidates. In these instances, the voters broke the stalemate. Although the number of cases are limited, some important conclusions can be made. First, when the African-American community is mobilized, it is likely to be successful. On the other hand, when consensus cannot be reached in the African-American community, the white-controlled political organization is successful and is thus able to exert considerable influence over African-American community representation. Another important conclusion regards the impact of population size. In both instances where African-American consensus was reached (the 1980s), African Americans represented 37 percent of the total population. Alternately, African-American consensus over candidate selection did not occur during the 1970s or 1990s. Therefore, greater consensus was reached at the middling levels of African-American population size. Most important as it relates to population size, however, were the consistent tensions between the African-American community and the whitecontrolled Democratic Party organization over candidate selection. The Democratic power structure was, in most instances, tactical in its interaction with the African-American community. Consistently, its choice of AfricanAmerican candidates was based on its perception of the candidate’s ability to

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

82

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


83

bring out the vote for the party. This was particularly the case when Democratic Party hegemony was threatened by the Republican Party and when African Americans were needed to break the stalemate between liberal and conservative factions within the party. Results from interviews with current and former African-American elected and community activists reveal several key individuals and organizations that have fought for increased African-American electoral representation. The most frequently cited individuals were Cora Rice, Steve Brown, Reverend Perry Smith, Dr. C. Anthony Muse, Judge J. Franklin Borne, Mayor Cousins, and Dr. Robinson. The most frequently cited organizations were the Prince George’s County NAACP, the Prince George’s County Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), the Prince George’s Cosmopolitan Democratic Club, the Alliance of Black Elected Officials, the Black Ad Hoc Committee, the Prince George’s County Rainbow Coalition, the AfricanAmerican Democratic Council, and the Coalition on African-American Affairs (COBA). The most prominent organization in African-American political affairs has by far been the county’s chapter of the NAACP. The Prince George’s Cosmopolitan Democratic Club had been most effective in its early attempts to get African Americans involved in politics. Its membership created the Black Ad Hoc Committee, which attempted to mobilize early support for African-American candidates. However, the Ad Hoc Committee’s efforts were thwarted, and their prominence declined after the King–Broadwater race of 1974. Membership of the Alliance of Black Elected Officials, as the name suggests, is made up of all of the county’s African-American elected officials. Their role in African-American county politics mainly has been reactionary, and its membership has been very divided. The other organizations cited above—the county’s chapter of the Rainbow Coalition and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference—have been most effective in mobilizing support for particular candidacies and issues, but also have been more reactionary than pro-active in posture. The most frequently cited strategies and resources utilized by these organizations and individuals varied. Strategies included voter registration drives, protest and agitation, candidate recruitment, lobbying the county and state governments, candidate and issue forums, conventions and retreats, litigation, and campaign resources. Opinions regarding the effectiveness of these strategies and resources also have varied and range from extremely effective (29 percent), very effective (33 percent), more effective than not (24 percent), and neither effective nor ineffective (14 percent). No interviewees, however, said that the strategies or resources were ineffective.

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

83

8/13/02, 9:30 PM

84

THE QUEST

FOR


OBSTACLES TO INCREASING AFRICAN-AMERICAN REPRESENTATION All interviewees maintained that there had been numerous obstacles to increasing African-American representation. The most frequently cited obstacles are consistent with the model guiding this study, in that some emanate from factors internal to the African-American community, while others represent external factors or influences. The most frequently cited external obstacles were the effectiveness of divide-and-conquer strategies employed by white power brokers, racism (manifested by white bloc voting), and the slating process, which excluded African Americans who had the potential to be effective leaders. The most frequently cited internal obstacles were self-interested African-American officials, low African-American voter registration rates, class divisions within the African-American community, and the African-American electorate’s adherence to the slate advanced by white power brokers. As it regarded white elected officials’ willingness to share power with the African-American community, all interviewees maintained that white elected officials and the white community were willing to share power with some sectors of the African-American community and not with others. Predominate among African-American elected officials and community activists was the view that white elected officials and the white electorate “want people who are like them, who will carry their interests, who will do what they are told to do, and not think for themselves.” The slating process and white members of the “in-group” were perceived as being directly opposed to the interests of the African-American community, and most significantly only embraced those African Americans they felt were pliable and unlikely to strongly advance an African-American political agenda. Citing the difference between an African-American politician who was embraced by the white power establishment and another who was not, one community activist maintained, “When you play ball they’ll throw you something. _______ played ball, _______did not play ball so he suffered as a result of that. Unfortunately, that is the political game that some people play, and it gets certain kinds of results. But the question is whether you can live with yourself. ________did not play ball, but ________ did, and they used him until they used him up.”

UNITY AMONG AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTED OFFICIALS All interviewees noted to varying degrees that many African-American elected officials were self-interested rather than committed to advancing the interests of the African-American community. One African-American elected official

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

84

8/13/02, 9:30 PM


85

maintained that, “among African-American elected officials, 85 percent are self-interested, and have forgotten what it was like to be poor.” Although some may argue that this is largely the perception of all elected officials, the lack of power in the African-American community renders this perception particularly significant. Another common sentiment among interviewees was that African Americans were not receiving the level of support from white elected officials that they were providing. For example, one former African-American elected official noted that, “African-American elected officials have forgotten why they are in Annapolis. They want to be involved in all of the social activities. They are deceived easily when whites act as if they are their friends. But when they need to get a favor from the whites, they [whites] are not supportive.” Another African-American official asserted, “current African-American officials in the county look at politics as a status symbol without taking into consideration that they are in office to help African-American people.” When asked in a follow-up question what African-American elected officials receive in exchange for their support, an African-American official responded: “Not much. Those that get elected get some notoriety and popularity. But I say not much because if you compare it to what we lose, it isn’t much. We lose self-respect. Granted, African-American politicians are elected and appointed, but that is symbolic.” Speaking to the symbolic nature of African-American appointments, one African-American elected official maintained that, “we have a person who is director of _____ who is African American, and she doesn’t make any decisions. Her white subordinates make the decisions. When I want something done, I can’t call her, I have to call on her white subordinate.” Although all except one interviewee mentioned that African-American support was invaluable to helping liberal whites overthrow the Sasscer machine, they all felt that the organization that resulted from this alliance was similar to the organization that they had replaced. In response to a followup question relating to the alliance between liberal whites and African Americans that overthrew the Sasscer machine, one community activist noted, “we thought we were helping to destroy the machine, then Pete O’Malley came into power, then Steny Hoyer, and then Mike Miller. We essentially helped to create another machine.” Surprisingly, there was a significant tendency for African-American elected officials to berate other African-American officials and to cite those they felt were ineffective and not independent thinkers. For example, one respondent stated that, “_______ asked me to support her for Congress. I told her that she hadn’t shown me anything on the ______, and that I did not feel she could be an adequate leader in Congress. I love her, and she is my girl, but she is not an effective leader.” One former African-American elected official,

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

85

8/13/02, 9:31 PM

86

THE QUEST

FOR


speaking of two current African-American elected officials, asserted, “ _______ is suppose to be so sophisticated. ________ wears all those African-American clothes, but neither of them are [expletive].” Similarly, another respondent noted that “______ and ______ are a part of the Miller camp. _______would jump off a building if Mike asked him to. When _______ got appointed he owed it to Mike [Miller], thus he has ________’s loyalty.” Despite many similar comments, however, state Senator Gloria Lawlah and state delegate Joanne Benson were consistently noted as independent thinkers and effective leaders. All of the African-American elected officials interviewed noted that there was considerable division among African-American elected officials, and that African-American elected officials were primarily divided between two camps—Parris Glendening’s and Mike Miller’s. In response to follow-up questions regarding reasons that can be attributed to a lack of unity among African-American elected officials, the most frequently cited answer was a lack of trust. The lack of unity and trust among African-American elected officials has, however, grown more rapidly, and it began to manifest itself to a large degree after the conviction of Tommie Broadwater. The most logical reason can be attributed to the growth in the number of African-American officials since Broadwater’s departure. Prior to Broadwater’s conviction, however, African-American elected officials, although divided, allowed Broadwater to present a unified agenda when addressing issues of interest to the AfricanAmerican community. As Broadwater notes, when he was the leader of the Alliance of Black Elected Officials, “we were more organized, we sought to pick the best African-American for the job. We met collectively, but I was the one who took the decision out of the room. Now they listen to the white man, they listen to Glendening and Mike Miller and they come into meetings with other African Americans with allegiances to whites—whites are the real power brokers.” Despite Broadwater’s claims about his ability to unify African-American elected officials, there were instances of infighting among African-American elected officials, most notably manifested between Broadwater and Trotter. Another obstacle to African-American unity was the diverse goals among their constituencies. As one community activist noted, “Tommie represented an element in his district, and no question, he represented them well, but there was another element that has never been happy with Tommie, and was embarrassed by him in many ways.” Broadwater did, in fact, acknowledge diverse goals within the AfricanAmerican community, however, he believed that he was able to bridge the gaps that existed. For example, he noted, “I always had to deal with problems between African Americans with different goals— between those who had

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

86

8/13/02, 9:31 PM


87

and those who did not. There were always divisions, but I fought to hold them together.” Inconsistent with Broadwater’s claims to have bridged diverse class interests within the community, African-American candidates were consistently characterized as representatives of the poor or the high-brow middle class. This is a distinction that was never made about white candidates, despite rifts within the party structure. These distinctions threatened unity and ultimately impacted on the level of African-American policy influence and political incorporation in Prince George’s County.

SUMMARY Although African Americans in Prince George’s County constituted a numerical and potential electoral majority, their status was not evident in the proportion of elective offices held. The 1994 elections, however, were promising. In 1994, there were four African-American members on the ninemember county council, where prior to the 1994 election there had been only two. Similarly promising, there were four African Americans on the ninemember board of education in 1994. African Americans had not, however, obtained representation commensurate to their numbers in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. In 1994, eleven African Americans (34 percent) comprised the thirty-two member delegation. Totally, African Americans made up 52 percent of Prince George’s County’s population and 38 percent of the county’s primary elective offices in 1994. African-American political incorporation represents more than mere formal representation, however. Although African-American formal representation is significant and allows an out-group to act on particular policy initiatives already on the agenda, it does not translate into real political power, which resides in the ability to become an integral part of the decision-making process by determining what is placed on the agenda for action or deliberation. This chapter has pointed to the significance of mobilization or, perhaps more appropriate to this case, the perils of disunity on African-American representation. Of the eight key mobilization efforts examined here, African Americans reached consensus 25 percent of the time. Disunity among African-American elected officials and community activists and an inability to advance a unified agenda have, in many instances, thwarted increased African-American representation on policy-making boards and commissions. As a result of divisions among African-American leaders and officials, white officials often were able to simply bypass the preferences and recommendations of African-American leaders. To this extent, although

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

87

8/13/02, 9:31 PM

88

THE QUEST

FOR


the established white-controlled organization was fragmented, the effects were far more devastating on the African-American community— the out-group. The liberal element of the Democratic Party in Prince George’s County has benefited tremendously from the African-American community’s support. Without the support of the African-American community, liberal whites would not have been able to overthrow the conservative Sasscer organization. However, had African Americans not supported the overthrow of the Sasscer organization, African-American representation on policy-making boards undoubtedly would have been retarded. Despite their ability to establish alliances with liberal whites, African Americans were not equal partners in the Democratic Party organization. Instead, many African-American officials and leaders have been co-opted by the leading white power brokers (Glendening and Miller) and have been unable to reach consensus in the electoral arena. In addition to the divisions among African-American leaders and officials, the exclusionary slating process in Prince George’s County has further inhibited African-American electoral success. Former and current African-American elected officials overwhelmingly maintain that the key to African-American electoral success is greatly dependent upon an African-American candidate’s ability to conform to the interests of white power brokers. According to African-American elected officials, whites only support those African Americans whose interests are compatible with theirs and are consistently opposed to those who stress racial unity and attempt to operate outside of the “in-group’s” apparatus. This view is illuminated in the party structure’s 1974 recruitment of Broadwater over King, the 1983 Mike Miller recruitment of Trotter, and the 1994 support provided to African-American candidates by opposing white members within the Democratic Party structure. On the flip side, the African-American community’s support for the white-controlled slate has been overwhelming, as has been African-American elected officials’ support for white candidates on the slate. A rather telling statement by Broadwater after losing a battle for a key appointment illustrates this point. According to Broadwater, “We [African-American elected officials] voted against our own. . . . We did that because we were asked to.”46 As a testament to the continuing disunity within the ranks of AfricanAmerican elected officials in the county, all of the African-American former and current elected officials interviewed maintained that there was great disunity and disharmony within the county’s Alliance of Black Elected Officials. African-American officials consistently named one another, but excluded themselves, as pawns of the white political establishment and in alliance with either Parris Glendening or Mike Miller. Regardless of whether all AfricanAmerican officials are in fact allied with either Glendening or Miller, the

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

88

8/13/02, 9:31 PM


89

perception that they are further erodes trust among African-American officials in the county. Although African Americans have increased their representation on policymaking boards, white power brokers retained control over county affairs. This may in fact change as a result of the 1994 election of Wayne Curry to the county executive seat, and as African Americans approach a majority on the county council. On the other hand, however, as a result of infighting and disunity among African-American elected officials, white power brokers may maintain their position of power behind a facade of African-American political control.

32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

89

8/13/02, 9:31 PM


32903_SP_JOH_CH04_059-090

90

8/13/02, 9:31 PM

Chapter Five

African-American Prince Georgians Mobilization for Key Appointments

APPOINTMENTS TO KEY POLICY-MAKING POSITIONS Appointments, like elective offices, are significant to politically emerging groups, because they signify two important and distinct processes that are relevant to political incorporation. One process relates to the dynamics of interaction within the African-American community. Influence and success in the election and selection process require significant mobilization and unity for groups outside of the coalition. The second process relates to the presence of allies or the level of receptivity that the governing coalition exhibits to sharing power. In Prince George’s County, the appointment of African Americans to policy-making positions has been fraught with tension. Despite constant challenges, however, African-American organizations have rallied hard to have African Americans appointed to county positions. One consistent complaint from the African-American community has been the extent to which many of the appointments made by the governing coalition have not reflected the desires of the African-American community or African-American elected officials. One advantage that the African-American community has had over the period of study, however, is its ability to act as a bloc vote between the Republican and Democratic parties and within the Democratic Party establishment. While this advantage has not always been effectively utilized, it has nonetheless at times led to increased sensitivity toward the African-American community.

91

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

91

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

92

AFRICAN-AMERICAN PRINCE GEORGIANS

An early example of this advantage can be seen after the election of Republican County Executive Lawrence J. Hogan. Although a Republican, Hogan’s record of appointing African Americans, albeit in many instances to lower-level positions, was impressive for the time period. In 1978, Hogan appointed Marvin L. Gay to the influential Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission (WSSC).1 After Gay’s resignation, Hogan appointed another African American, Lawrence L. Brooks, to fill the vacant seat. Brooks previously had served under Republican County Executive Gullett as the WSSC’s first African-American member in 1972. Although some members of the African-American community felt that Brooks had not adequately represented minority interests on the commission, his nomination was confirmed by the county council.2 Despite gains, there were points of contention between Hogan and the African-American community and elected leaders. Hogan received considerable opposition from state Senator Broadwater during his administration. As a result of personal animosity between the two, Hogan vowed not to take Broadwater’s suggestions into consideration when making appointments.3 In addition to strong opposition from Broadwater, Hogan also faced strong challenge to his nominations from other sectors of the African-American community. Mobilization Effort #1 One acrimonious battle between Hogan and segments of the African-American community involved his nomination of Charles R. Kelley for police chief. Kelley formerly had served as special assistant to retiring Police Chief Rhodes and if selected would have become Prince George’s first African-American police chief. Kelley had the support of Floyd Wilson who, at the time, was one of two African Americans on the county council. However, he received strong opposition from the police union, who saw his selection as tokenism, because he had been a civilian employee of the department and did not have real police experience.4 As a result of the police union’s opposition, Kelley’s nomination was dropped, and in his place Hogan nominated a white candidate, former Petersburg, Virginia, Police Chief James R. Taylor. As was the case in the electoral arena, Taylor’s nomination once again exhibited the level of disunity within the African-American community. Controversy over the Taylor nomination centered on his record with African-American groups, the police union, and the city council in Petersburg. His record with such groups forged an unlikely alliance between Prince George’s NAACP and police union against his nomination. Six months prior to the nomination, the NAACP and the police union had been sharply di-

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

92

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

Mobilization for Key Appointments

93

vided over the case of Terrance Johnson, a sixteen-year-old African-American Bladensburg youth, who was on trial for the alleged shooting of two white officers. The National Conference of Christians and Jews and the Prince George’s County Concerned Clergy were also opposed to Taylor’s nomination.5 On the other hand, African-American community activists Cora Rice and Sylvester Vaughns supported Taylor’s nomination. Despite the influence of Rice and Vaughns, the county council rejected Taylor’s nomination by a vote of 8 to 3.6 Ultimately, Hogan appointed John E. McHale for the police chief position. McHale had served as acting police chief after the resignation of John W. Rhoads.7 Mobilization Effort #2 The 1978 appointment of Roy Dabney to a vacant seat on the county council also was an acrimonious battle, but one that ultimately illuminated tensions between the African-American community and the governing coalition. Dabney received the support of Floyd Wilson and Deborah Marshall, the two African-American members on the county council, and state Senator Broadwater. The Democratic Central Committee, in this case, had the authority to nominate candidates to fill the vacancy, because the retiring council member, Francis B. Francois, was a Democrat. The Democratic Central Committee, “a formerly powerless rubber-stamp for Party leaders,” had since gained new power and prominence in the absence of leadership “after 1978 when the Democrat’s top leaders were defeated.”8 In his negotiation on behalf of Dabney, Broadwater had stressed to the newly reorganized party leadership, “if we (African Americans) are going to be apart of the Democratic Party then we deserve to be part of the finalists sent to the Central Committee.” In response, the party leadership sent Dabney’s name, along with three others, to the Democratic Central Committee. After the nomination was secured from the party’s leadership, Broadwater, Marshall, and other African-American community activists lobbied the Central Committee to select Dabney as one of three nominees to be presented to the county council. The council had difficulty deciding on a clear favorite. However, after thirteen rounds of straw votes, with no candidate, able to win a majority, Dabney was appointed as the consensus candidate, because he had not alienated either side.9 Although the Dabney candidacy largely was seen as a victory, the actual victory was manifested in the ability of African-American elected officials to unify and support Dabney. Dabney, however, was ultimately the preferred candidate, not because of the lobbying efforts of Marshall and Broadwater, but because he was an outsider and did not have the political baggage that

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

93

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

94


the other candidates had. Neither he nor any other candidate had actually won a majority of the council vote.10 Mobilization Effort #3 In 1981, after much lobbying and criticism of the county police department, County Executive Hogan appointed Thomas M. Davis, an African-American civilian police employee, to the deputy chief post in the department of personnel. In addition to pressure from the NAACP, the county also had faced opposition from the U.S. Justice Department, which had filed a suit in 1976, charging that the Prince George’s County Police Department discriminated against African Americans in hiring. Although county officials contested the suit and refused to negotiate with Justice Department attorneys for two years, the suit was finally dropped when the department began to exhibit some effort in the recruitment of African Americans.11 Although pressure from the African-American community resulted in this and other gains, external pressures from the Justice Department significantly reinforced its efforts. In 1975, less than 5 percent of the police department’s employees were African American. By 1981, at a time when the African-American population comprised 37 percent of the county’s population, the 850-member police department was 12 percent African American, and none had rank above sergeant.12 Under the leadership and administrations of Democratic governor Harry Hughes and Prince George’s County Executive Parris Glendening, AfricanAmerican appointments increased. However, considerable tension and pressure from the African-American community generally preceded these gains. In 1982, Governor Hughes appointed G.R. Hovey Johnson as the first African-American to serve on the circuit court in Prince George’s County.13 In the same year, Glendening nominated Sarah Johnson to fill a vacancy on the Prince George’s County school board. With Johnson’s appointment, there were now two African Americans serving on the board, at a time when 54 percent of the school system was African American.14 Mobilization Effort #4 Governor Hughes’ appointment of delegate Lorraine M. Sheehan to the secretary of state slot in 1983 set the stage for a battle between AfricanAmerican community leaders and the Democratic Party leadership over the filling of Sheehan’s vacant seat. State Senator Mike Donavan, the senator in delegate Sheehan’s district, and state senate leader Thomas V. Mike Miller supported Martha Weber to fill the vacant seat. Tommie Broadwater, on the other hand, felt that an African-American should fill the seat, considering

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

94

8/13/02, 9:32 PM


95

that the district was 62 percent African American, and that Martha Weber had been unsuccessful in winning the seat against Sheehan in the previous election. Broadwater was incensed that there had not been any consultation with African-American leaders on filling Sheehan’s seat and a previous vacancy in Miller’s district. According to Broadwater, “they didn’t even consider a black.”15 Considering the changing demographics of the county, Broadwater argued that at least one out of every three appointments should go to an African American. Steny Hoyer, U.S. Representative, attempted to mediate, however, he was unsuccessful in forging a compromise. Broadwater supported Eldridge Spearman, a former aide to D.C. delegate Walter Fauntroy and a member of the Democratic Central Committee. Pro-life forces within the party supported African-American candidate Jerry Perry. However, support for Perry was weakened in the African-American community because of a campaign party she held for Senator Donavan, who was considered too conservative. Perry, like Weber also had lost a delegate seat in the 1982 elections.16 Despite opposition from Broadwater and the African-American community, the Democratic Central Committee nonetheless appointed Perry. According to the Central Committee, its choice of Perry was an attempt to strike a compromise between the “white, African American, liberal, conservative and feminist factions of the Party.”17 In response to Perry’s appointment, Broadwater denounced his fellow senators, and longtime ally, Steny Hoyer. In a rather telling statement, Broadwater remarked: Steny Hoyer was a dead politician in Prince George’s County. We resurrected Steny Hoyer in the 1980 special congressional election. We [Prince George’s County delegation to the state assembly] have many leadership positions in the house and in the senate. Do you know who made that possible? Black folks. . . . We did everything you asked us to do. We put conservative Senator Mike Miller in office. We voted against our own for Mike Donavan. . . . We did that because we were asked to.18 Broadwater’s statement illuminated the extent to which African Americans had supported the party agenda and broke ranks with African-American candidates to maintain their alliance with the party’s leadership. Broadwater’s remark further revealed the extent to which he was even willing to support a candidate (Mike Donavan), whom he knew to be conservative and out of step with the interests of the African-American community to which he was elected to represent.

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

95

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

96


Later in the year, Glendening appointed three African Americans to high-ranking, influential posts. Samuel Saxon, former director of the Montgomery County Detention Center, was slated as director of the Prince George’s County Corrections Department. Alexander Williams was appointed to the WSSC and Roy Dabney to the Maryland National Capital Park and Planning Commission (M-NCP&PC).19 Glendening’s appointments were acceptable to the African-American community, however, were met with hostility from Prince George’s County’s white politicians in the state assembly who maintained that he had not consulted them on the appointments. According to state Senator Dorman, “he [Glendening] committed himself when the senators agreed to run with him to meet with them on appointments, and he has not kept that commitment.” Although apologetic, Glendening responded that he was “determined to appoint people outside of the county’s traditional Democratic inner circle to prominent positions.20 “People outside of the Democratic inner circle,” no doubt, was a reference to African Americans. Although the county council unanimously supported Glendening’s nominations, the incident illuminated the growing rift within the Democratic Party between the county and the county’s delegation to the state assembly, led by Senator Mike Miller. The incident also lent credence to former state Senator Broadwater’s assertion that Glendening’s election to the county executive seat largely was the result of the support he received from the African-American community. Once Glendening was in office, he acknowledged this support through key appointments, albeit with pressure from AfricanAmerican organizations and community activists. Mobilization Effort #5 The appointment of Major Michael J. Flaherty to police chief illustrates Glendening’s receptivity to working with the African-American community. In addition to Flaherty, Lt. Col. Joseph D. Vasco also was under consideration for the post. Unlike Flaherty, however, Vasco did not have the support of the African-American community. Glendening met with representatives of African-American organizations before he made his choice, and although he rejected their proposal for a national search, he ultimately nominated their choice for police chief.21 Mobilization Effort #6 Another example of the African-American community’s growing influence during Glendening’s first term centered around a proposal by African-American state legislators, led by Decatur Trotter, to enlarge the county’s elections

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

96

8/13/02, 9:32 PM


97

and liquor boards from three to five members in order to appoint African Americans. Although Trotter’s plan did not receive support from Glendening or Governor Hughes, Glendening later reshuffled top appointed officials of boards and commissions who set county policy on development and housing issues to accommodate increased African-American representation. An appointment resulting from Glendening’s reshuffling was that of Samuel Botts, as the new Republican to the planning board. Glendening maintained that African-American advisors had suggested Botts to him.22 After Glendening’s second successful bid for county executive in the 1986 elections, he announced a major reorganization of his cabinet, which included the appointment of two African Americans to high-ranking positions. Major F. Riddick Jr., director of the Department of Housing and Community Development, was nominated to the budget director slot and Larnzell Martin Jr. to one of the three deputy county attorney posts. After their confirmation by the county council, Riddick and Martin became the first African Americans to hold their respective positions in the State of Maryland.23 Despite an increase in the number of African-American appointments to high-level positions, African Americans remained dissatisfied with their numbers in elective office, professional county jobs, and high-ranking positions in the police and fire departments and in the judiciary. They also felt that the county had not done enough to ensure a share of the county’s purchasing contracts, although African Americans approached 50 percent of the county’s total population.24 At the close of 1986, there were two African Americans on the ninemember county council, six African Americans in the county’s thirty-twomember delegation to the state assembly, and two African Americans on the nine-member board of education. African-American representation on the county’s judiciary was even more sparse, with two African Americans represented among the sixteen circuit court judges, two among the ten district court judges, six of the thirty-nine assistant state’s attorneys, and one of twelve assistant public defenders.25 Disparities also existed on the 900-member police force. In 1986, ten African-American officers held the rank of sergeant or higher, yet there were no African-American captains, majors, or deputy chiefs. In county government, African Americans represented 19 percent of the administrators, 23 percent of the professionals, 12 percent of the technicians, and 31 percent of the social workers and clerical staff.26 Mobilization Effort #7 African-American dissatisfaction around economic development related issues was particularly acute and led to mobilization efforts against officials

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

97

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

98


whom they felt were antithetical to their interests. An example of the level of dissatisfaction was in Glendening’s attempt to reappoint WSSC Chairman Robert M. Potter. African-American officials and activists pushed to delay Potter’s reappointment to allow time for a meeting to discuss charges of discrimination at WSSC against minority businesses. The council voted 7 to 2 to delay Potter’s appointment, however, a majority indicated that it would support his reappointment in a vote scheduled for the following week.27 Although Potter subsequently was reappointed, for some the incident signaled the clout of African-American political, business, and civic leaders and their ability to push complaints to the forefront. Former state Senator Albert Wynn maintained that opposition to Potter sent a message that “economic development is the premier issue for the African-American community. . . . African-American groups want minority businesses to get a larger percentage of the millions of dollars in contracts let each year by the county government and local agencies.”28 Mobilization Effort #8 African-American political, business, and civic leaders requested that Glendening use his political influence to urge private developers to hire more African-American firms. They also urged him to revamp the county’s minority procurement system, which lagged behind a goal to award 30 percent of contracts to minority companies. Glendening, however, resisted this policy.29 In response to growing pressure, two months later Prince George’s County signed its largest ever contract with a minority firm, Maxima Computer Systems Corporation of Rockville, at the tune of $17.6 million over a fiveyear period. This agreement, however, still left the county far short of its goal to do 30 percent of its business with minority companies. According to County Council Chairwoman Hilda Pemberton, “the system is not set up to insure that minorities participate, and we have to change that.”30 Much to the disbelief of African-American political and community leaders, however, Pemberton changed her position two months later, when she rejected a minority procurement bill that would have established a mandatory, set-aside option. Pemberton acted on the advice of county attorneys and supported Glendening’s announcement for a more moderate plan that would essentially act as a strengthened, voluntary, set-aside plan by earmarking contracts for minority firms in narrowly defined circumstances.31 African-American political, business, and community leaders characterized Pemberton as “too willing to avoid confrontation with white county leaders and too easily manipulated by Glendening.” They vowed to work to turn Pemberton out of office in 1990. According to June Dillard, president of the National Business League of Southern Maryland, an African-Ameri-

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

98

8/13/02, 9:32 PM


99

can business organization, “[Pemberton] was not responsive to the needs of her constituency.”32 The incident represented the second time that Pemberton had frustrated the efforts of African-American leaders in the county. In 1983, she angered residents in her 70 percent African-American district by abstaining on a critical vote to extend the long-delayed Metro rail green line to Branch Avenue in southern Prince George’s County, although she had supported the plan in her election campaign. After her election victory, however, she was lobbied heavily by developers who wanted to shift the line north to a route ending near Rosecroft raceway. Only after the defeat of the plan pushed by the developers did Pemberton once again endorse the Branch Avenue route.33 Mobilization Effort #9 The minority set-asides battle was a defeat for African-American leaders, and again it manifested an inability to unify and hold accountable African-American elected officials. Weeks previous to the minority set-aside issue, however, they had been instrumental in influencing Glendening’s choice for a vacant seat on the Fifth Judicial District Court. After intense lobbying by African-American officials, Glendening withdrew support for Larnzell Martin Jr. for the seat and threw his support behind Assistant State’s Attorney Shelia T. Tillerson. Ironically, both Martin and Tillerson were African American. However, for African-American leaders, this incident “was a test of strength on key African-American appointments in the future.”34 The pressure that was used to influence Tillerson’s nomination and the appointment of former Seat Pleasant Mayor Henry Arrington earlier in 1987 to the WSSC were a way of showing Glendening that he would have to confer with African-American leaders about African-American appointments to key positions.35 Despite their ability to influence Glendening’s choice, Governor William Donald Shaefer ultimately appointed Martin to the district court seat. Although sectors of the African-American leadership pushed for Tillerson, state Senator Albert Wynn and several other African-American elected officials pushed for Martin.36 The split over candidates served to decrease African-American leverage in the appointment process, however, it cannot always be expected that one segment of the community will likely subordinate its desires in order to promote unity. Glendening later elevated Tillerson to deputy county attorney. He also appointed former state’s attorney Arthur (Bud) Marshall to the county attorney slot. The appointments reflected Glendening’s desire to appease two factions within the Democratic Party structure that had split over the 1986 state’s attorney race that pitted Alexander Williams against Marshall. Prior to

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

99

8/13/02, 9:32 PM

100


the 1986 election, Marshall had been the state’s attorney for twenty-four years. In the 1986 race, Glendening and Steny Hoyer had dumped Marshall from the Democratic ticket and backed Williams, who narrowly defeated Marshall by approximately 1,000 votes.37 According to interviewees, the move to dump Marshall had been a purely strategic one that recognized the growing influence of the African-American electorate after the 1984 Democratic Party presidential primary. Since the 1986 election, however, divisions had thwarted whatever electoral strength that African Americans potentially had. The need to promote unity and to establish an African-American agenda was the focus of a two-day retreat in Virginia in the early fall of 1987. The retreat, which included participation of the Prince George’s Alliance of Black Elected Officials, the Rainbow Coalition, the Black Republicans, the NAACP, the National Business League of Southern Maryland, and the Black Democratic Council, revealed the diversity of Prince George’s County’s AfricanAmerican community. The group was split in its opinions regarding the need for an AfricanAmerican power broker to speak for the African-American community. Tommie Broadwater maintained that the absence of a chief power broker had cost the African-American community important issues. On the other hand, former state Senator Albert Wynn asserted that “no one person can speak for the African-American community.” According to Wynn, his interaction with his African-American constituency revealed that their political goals were similar to those of north county whites. Participants ultimately drafted an agenda for the African-American community. After the retreat, however, it was totally abandoned. When asked to respond to unsuccessful efforts to select an AfricanAmerican power broker, Glendening supported Wynn’s view, arguing that the interests of more affluent African Americans in the county “puts them at odds with the older African-American community who are concerned with subsidized housing and job programs.”38 Mobilization Effort #10 Despite growing socioeconomic diversity within the African-American community, a history of police brutality in the African-American community unified African Americans and prompted repeated requests for civilian representation on the police board assigned to review misconduct complaints. In the summer of 1989, Glendening reversed his long-standing position and agreed to support placing a civilian on the police board. This reversal grew out of the tension that erupted after a county grand jury declined to indict any officers for actions related to the death of Gregory Habib, a Ghanaian

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

100

8/13/02, 9:32 PM


101

student who died in police custody from what the state medical examiner called “blunt force trauma.” In addition to supporting civilian representation on the police board, Glendening announced the appointment of the police department’s first African-American captains—Edward Adams and John E. Moss.39 Mobilization Effort #11 Glendening maintained that his new position on the issue was an attempt to build African-American confidence in the county’s police department. However, many complained that he had not used the opportunity to raise AfricanAmerican confidence in the police earlier that month, when he had the opportunity to appoint an African-American to succeed retiring Police Chief Michael J. Flaherty. Instead, Glendening nominated Lt. Col. David B. Mitchell, a neighbor and close friend and commander of the patrol bureau.40 Residents of the African-American community and representatives of the NAACP voiced outrage over Glendening’s choice for police chief. Chief among their complaints was a 1974 incident in which Mitchell was disciplined and fined for using racial slurs and insulting an African-American suspect.41 African-American community leaders had been pushing for an African-American police chief for years. Despite their opposition to Glendening’s choice, the county’s Black Police Officers Association and veteran African-American community activist Cora Rice supported Mitchell’s nomination, the county council later confirmed his nomination.42 Several days prior to Mitchell’s confirmation, Glendening strategically announced the promotion of the newly appointed African-American captains, Edward Adams and John E. Moss, to the rank of major (two ranks below chief ) and five other African-American officers to ranking positions.43 Considering that their appointments to the rank of captain had occurred less than six months earlier, the appointments were viewed as a purely political move. Later in the year, after his third successful bid for county executive, Glendening elevated his African-American budget director, Major F. Riddick, to administrative officer, the county’s top administrative post. This promotion made Riddick the first African-American in the Washington suburbs to hold the highest-ranking county staff position.44 After the election, Glendening also moved on his support of civilian representation to the police board, albeit in quite different form than had previously been expected. Instead of appointing citizens to the already established police review board, Glendening established a separate civilian police panel and appointed seven citizens to it— five African Americans and two whites.45 The NAACP referred to the new civilian review process as a sham and refused to participate in the process. Its opposition resulted from the panel’s

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

101

8/13/02, 9:33 PM

102


limited power. The chief purpose of the panel was “to review investigations already completed by the police department’s internal affairs division and to comment on the objectivity and thoroughness of those investigations.” The panel did not have the power to compel action by the police chief or county executive if it disagreed with the recommendation, nor did it have independent investigative powers or the ability to recommend discipline where fault was found.46

AFRICAN-AMERICAN MOBILIZATION EFFORTS FOR KEY APPOINTMENTS Mobilization efforts in the African-American community for key appointments met with far more success than in those that occurred in the electoral arena. Of the eleven mobilization efforts for key appointments, African Americans were able to achieve unity in seven instances (64%), compared to two of eight instances in the electoral arena (25%). Resolution of all eleven cases involved interaction with some segment of the white-controlled political structure. Of the seven cases where AfricanAmerican consensus was reached, five represented successful outcomes, one represented an unsuccessful outcome, and the remaining case represented a mixed outcome. Thus in the area of appointments, consensus proved to be a useful strategy. That is not to say that African Americans should promote unity for unity’s sake. Like other groups, African Americans should be expected to disagree. However, disunity is not a useful strategy if the goal is to increase African-American appointments. The one consensus case that represented a solidly unsuccessful outcome involved African-American community opposition to the appointment of Jerry Perry to fill a vacant delegate seat. Both candidates for the position were African American, and the decision of the Democratic Central Committee was an attempt to satisfy African-American, white, liberal, conservative, and feminist factions within the Democratic Party organization. Despite their attempt to satisfy all factions, however, African-American leaders, namely, Broadwater, felt that more consideration should have gone to the African-American candidate who was the choice of the African-American community. While African Americans opposed this appointment, Parris Glendending’s 1983 appointments of three African Americans to high-ranking posts met with hostility from white senators in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. The two cases exhibited Glendening’s need to walk a fine line in order to sustain support from both camps, a reality of power sharing. While Glendening owed his election to the African-American community, he had to nonetheless court several elements in the party structure in order to remain

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

102

8/13/02, 9:33 PM


103

effective. While African Americans felt that Glendening’s allegiance should have gone to them, white senators believed that their objectives should have been paramount. African-American support and consensus for civilian representation on the police review board resulted in a mixed outcome. Although African Americans were successful in their lobbying efforts, the civilian police board that subsequently was established lacked the power that the African-American community desired and was largely considered a sham. Four cases represented disunity among African-American leaders and elected officials. In three cases, one segment of African-American leaders and officials realized the outcome that they sought, and in the remaining case, neither side won. The latter case involved the African-American community’s quest for an African-American police chief during Republican County Executive Lawrence J. Hogan’s administration. Police brutality had, for some time, been a salient issue within the African-American community. Initially, Hogan nominated an African-American for the post, however, his appointment was scuttled by the police union, which saw it as tokenism. Hogan then nominated James R. Taylor, who had a dubious relationship with African-American groups in Petersburg, Virginia, where he had served as police chief. The African-American community was split on the Taylor nomination, with strong support from noted activists Cora Rice and Sylvester Vaughns. The Taylor nomination ultimately failed, with neither side claiming victory. This case exhibited the limits of African-American consensus. Although the African-American community reached consensus over Hogan’s initial choice of an African-American for the post, they could not prevail against the opposition of the influential police union. The 1983 battle over the 5th district court seat represented a success for a segment of African-American leadership, because it was able to influence Glendening’s choice for a nominee. Nonetheless, the governor ultimately confirmed the candidate supported by Albert Wynn and others, although he had received strong opposition from a large segment of the African-American community. The minority procurement bill case represented a hollow victory. Although Pemberton won in her efforts to kill the bill, the African-American community lost in its efforts to obtain 30 percent of the county’s contracts. The final case that exhibited disunity within the African-American community again involved the selection of a police chief. Glendening received strong opposition for the nomination of his neighbor and friend for the position, however, support from Cora Rice and the Black Police Officer’s Association allowed him to ignore the opposition. Although the AfricanAmerican community had, at that time, fought for a decade and a half for an

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

103

8/13/02, 9:33 PM

104


African-American police chief, its efforts were largely thwarted as a result of its inability to reach a consensus. As a concession, Glendening elevated two African Americans to highranking positions within the police department after his nomination for police chief was confirmed. Although the African-American community did not get what it wanted—an African-American police chief—it did receive something.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN INFLUENCE IN FILLING VACANCIES Former Republican County Executive Lawrence J. Hogan (1978–1982) had an impressive record of appointing African Americans to policy-making positions. Hogan, however, despised Broadwater, and thus he looked to other African Americans to fill the role of advisor in his appointment decisions. While Broadwater remained influential, he did not enjoy the same level of influence and latitude in filling vacancies that he had during the administration of former Democratic County Executive Winfred M. Kelly Jr. (1974–1978). Although Hogan consulted with some African Americans on his appointment decisions, there were instances where he overrode the suggestions of African-American community leaders and organizations. There also were instances where African Americans were unable to reach a consensus over their preferences to fill vacancies. These instances made it easier to bypass African Americans altogether. In response to questions relating to individual and organizational influence in the appointment of African Americans to policy-making boards, the names cited most frequently by interviewees varied by time periods. Broadwater was considered the most influential in the appointment process during Kelly’s administration. During Hogan’s two administrations, however, Cora Rice, Steve Brown, and the NAACP were cited as being the most influential. From 1982 on, the Alliance of Black Elected Officials, the J. Franklin Borne Bar Association, and ministers Perry Smith, Bob Williams, James McCord, and C. Anthony Muse were considered the most influential in filling vacancies. In addition to the aforementioned African Americans, Major F. Riddick Jr. was cited as a conduit through which many African-American elected officials and community activists could voice their concerns and preferences for filling vacancies. Riddick served in numerous high-ranking posts during Glendening’s administrations. When asked about the frequency of success of individual or organizational recommendations and preferences, the most frequently cited answer was “more often than not.” No respondent, however, said that the recommendations of these individuals and organizations were “always” or “never” taken into account in final decisions.

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

104

8/13/02, 9:33 PM


105

African-American participation within the governing coalition was dramatically increased when the liberal wing of the party took power from the conservative element. Their participation, however, did not guarantee success in their quest for representation in proportion to their numbers in the population. Neither were they considered equal partners in the governing coalition but instead junior partners who supported the two main cleavages within the Democratic Party organization. There have been many obstacles to increasing African-American political representation in the electoral arena and in the area of appointments. Chief among the internal obstacles has been the African-American community’s inability to forge unity over candidate selection or its choice of appointees. When a consensus was not reached, the dominant coalition was able to exert considerable leverage in the appointment or candidate selection process. Conversely, when a consensus was reached, favorable outcomes were more likely. As was the case in the electoral arena, the battle over appointments exhibited divisions among white leaders within the governing coalition. They were, however, less consequential than those within the African-American community. While divisions within the white power structure over appointments exhibited some resistance to power sharing, they also showed the need to court numerous objectives within the Democratic Party structure. AfricanAmerican demands were not the only demands that leaders needed to be mindful of. While it can be argued that this represents the realities of growing diversity, disunity among African-American leaders and officials cannot be ignored. Broadwater’s statement, after losing his battle over the delegate appointment, exhibited the extent to which African Americans attempted to “play ball” and the limited rewards for doing so. If Broadwater’s statement is accurate, it shows that in at least some instances, African-American elected officials promoted unity within the governing coalition over and above unity within the African-American community, even in instances when it was inimical to African-American interests. The appointment and electoral processes highlight the positive benefits of external support to African-American representation. In the appointment process, support from the Justice Department facilitated an increase in the number of African Americans in the police department. In the electoral process, the 1986 Thornburg v. Gingles U.S. Supreme Court decision promoted the creation of majority-minority districts. Although pressure from the African-American community was instrumental in both instances, support from external forces greatly enhanced their effort. A final and significant observation regards the extent to which the process over appointments was far more unified than in the electoral arena.

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

105

8/13/02, 9:33 PM

106


Limited success in the electoral arena can be attributed to a lack of trust and unity among African-American elected officials. On the other hand, the appointment process typically limited infighting by narrowing the choice to one of two possible nominees. Limits to the number of available choices made a consensus more likely. Although representation is a vehicle of influence in the policy arena, it does not, in and of itself, constitute political incorporation. Chapter 6 will assess the impact of representation on education policy and bring us closer to analyzing the level of African-American political incorporation in Prince George’s County, Maryland.

32903_SP_JOH_CH05_091-106

106

8/13/02, 9:33 PM

Chapter Six

African-American Prince Georgians Policy Influence in the Education Arena

African-American political incorporation is defined by a group’s ability to become an integral force in the public policy process. Although the ability to cast an opinion or a vote on policy measures that are before a public body is a valuable asset, it does not signify political incorporation but rather is a reward of representation. Thus while representation on policy-making bodies is a prerequisite for influence in the policy arena, it is not, in and of itself, political incorporation. All segments of a diverse African-American community desire representation in order to have their interests met within the policy arena. However, unless all segments have their interests met, then full political incorporation has not occurred. As chapter 3 has shown, African Americans in Prince George’s County lag behind whites on all socioeconomic indicators, including educational achievement. The value of political incorporation is inherent in its ability to alter barriers to opportunity and to eliminate group socioeconomic and political disadvantage. Unless political action leans toward this goal, the actions of group representatives are merely symbolic. To this extent, political incorporation can be defined as the teeth of representation, in that it is facilitative of substantive group goals to seek socioeconomic and political equality. The battle for equal educational opportunity for African Americans has historically been a civil rights issue, however, as we will see, there are dimensions of education policy that also make it a class-based policy area. This chapter examines the extent to which African Americans in Prince George’s County have acquired political incorporation or have been able to initiate and

107

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

107

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

108


implement education policy in the interest of the African-American community. Special care will be taken to assess whether all segments of the AfricanAmerican community have been affected proportionately by education policy initiatives. However, the analysis is less concerned with outcome than it is with the extent to which African Americans have initiated and sought to implement education policy that addresses existing disparities, and whether group versus particular interests have been advanced.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF EDUCATION Education policy is a significant policy area to study, because it is an issue that affects the entire community at large and simultaneously allows comparison of policy demands and responses across racial, intraracial, and socioeconomic lines. Inasmuch as African Americans seek political incorporation in order to alter their socioeconomic condition, education policy is a good policy area to analyze, because it represents an important avenue toward socioeconomic advancement.1 Education has been cited as one of the most important issues facing the African-American community in Prince George’s County. When AfricanAmerican elected officials and community activists were asked to cite issues that were most important to African Americans in Prince George’s County, economic empowerment was cited most frequently. The second most important issue was education, followed by public safety/crime, affordable housing, employment opportunities, and increased African-American representation. Although interviewees did not rank education as the most important issue in the African-American community, it is nonetheless consequential to nearly all of the issues that were cited. Also, given the grave disparities between African-American and white academic achievement (chapter 3), education policy should be of paramount concern to African-American Prince Georgians as they attempt to close existing socioeconomic gaps. The history of education politics in Prince George’s County bears out this concern.

EDUCATION POLITICS IN PRINCE GEORGE’S COUNTY It is ironic that African-Americans have begun to embrace the advantages of neighborhood schools. During the 1950s, African Americans across the nation were committed to dismantling state-sanctioned, segregated schools. After decades of disappointment, many African-American citizens in Prince George’s County and elsewhere have now changed their once firmly held views and have decided that their children would benefit from attending schools in their

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

108

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

Policy Influence in the Education Arena

109

own neighborhoods, even if they are attended primarily by one race. Others desire neighborhood schools because they have the good fortune of living in communities with excellent schools. Between 1954 and 1994, significant developments occurred to make the idea of school integration in Prince George’s County a moot issue.2 The primary development has been the large influx of African Americans to the county, which has rendered Prince George’s County’s school system mostly African American. Another factor that has rendered integration moot is limited success in the area of African-American test scores, despite desegregation. Since the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, the Prince George’s County school system has evolved from two distinct periods—one characterized by lethargy, the other by its battles over integration. Despite a long period of resistance to school desegregation, the education policy arena in Prince George’s County has in large measure been shaped by school desegregation. Current policies and programs attempting to eliminate disparities between African Americans and whites have evolved from early court battles and subsequent court remedies. Despite the decision in Brown v. Board of Education, which barred statesanctioned segregation of public education, Prince George’s County upheld and continued its practice of separate schools for the races until January 1973. Between 1954 and 1973, Prince George’s County violated the spirit of the 1954 Brown decision by operating a “freedom of choice” policy in which children were assigned or steered to schools on the basis of race. Under the plan, the county continued to build new all-African-American and all-white schools, and only modest changes were made to desegregate the schools.3 In the 1955–56 school year, ninety-six of the county’s 104 schools (92%) were one-race schools. And while a mere 1 percent of the county’s AfricanAmerican students were enrolled in schools that were previously all white, no white student was enrolled in a previously all-African American school.4

EDUCATION POLITICS IN THE 1970S Little in school desegregation had changed by the 1971–72 school year.5 The practice of separate schools for the races largely went unchallenged until March 1972. In that year, Sylvester Vaughns and seven other African-American parents filed suit in the U.S. District Court of Maryland, challenging the constitutionality of Prince George’s County’s segregated school system. The parents received support and representation in their case from the NAACP and the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU).6 After facing numerous attempts to delay action, on December 29, 1972, Judge Frank A. Kaufman of the U.S. District Court of Maryland filed an

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

109

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

110


order to begin desegregation of Prince George’s County schools midway during the 1972–1973 school year. The school board appealed Judge Kaufman’s order, but the 4th Circuit Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court upheld the lower court’s order.7 As a result of the 1972 decision, the district court retained jurisdiction over the case to supervise the implementation of the desegregation plan and continued to monitor Prince George’s school system in 1994. In accordance with the busing provision of the 1972 order, the total number of students bused in Prince George’s County rose from 48.4 percent of enrollment (78,000) to 56.1 percent (90,761).8 The busing provision also increased by approximately 17,000 the number of students bused farther away from their neighborhood schools.9 The most important feature of the plan, however, required that no school fall below an African-American student ratio of 10 percent, or exceed a 50 percent African-American student enrollment.10 The 1972 case dismantled de jure segregation practices and provided the backdrop for future skirmishes between the African-American community and the school board. Attempts were made to modify the busing provisions of the 1972 order almost immediately after the court order. The school busing requirements of the order resulted in considerable white backlash and ultimately cost the Democratic Party structure the county executive office. Although the Democrats had little to do with the terms of school integration, citizens took their dissatisfaction out on them and in 1978 replaced County Executive Winfield Kelly with Republican Lawrence Hogan. It was not until 1976 that action to modify the busing arrangement was taken by the school board. In that year, a white school board member, Sue Mills, proposed a review of the county’s school system for the express purpose of reducing busing. The proposal passed. In reaction to Mills’ request, Superintendent of Schools Edward J. Feeney offered a plan to the board proposing a 2,400 cut in the number of students being bused. The plan was the outcome of a review of attendance zones, which sought to determine whether more children could attend schools in their neighborhoods.11 Attempts to modify provisions of the five-year court order occurred simultaneously with growing dissension and hostility inside of the county’s chapter of the NAACP and among African-American elected officials in the county. In March 1977, approximately one week before Superintendent Feeney’s presentation of the busing modifications to the board, a group of African-American professionals and businesspeople in Prince George’s County formed a new organization, the Black Coalition against Unnecessary Busing. Group members attributed the need for the new organization to growing hostility and divisions within the county chapter of the NAACP. They also maintained that a new organization was necessary, due to the ineffectiveness of African-American elected officials in the county.12

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

110

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


111

Divisions within the ranks of the NAACP as well as between AfricanAmerican elected officials in the county were further illuminated by low African-American turnout at a NAACP rally held to protest issues “ranging from alleged police brutality to higher taxes.” The NAACP chapter President, Sylvester Vaughns, one of the original plaintiffs in the 1972 school board case, attributed the low attendance of 100 people at the rally to internal dissension that had evolved as a result of a bitter battle for the chapter presidency months earlier.13 Another problem associated with low turnout at the rally was the local NAACP chapter’s inability to forge links with local African-American elected officials who viewed the rally as a threat to their influence. Speaking on behalf of the Alliance of African-American Elected Officials (which at the time included five officials), state Senator Tommie Broadwater presented plans for a special meeting between all elected and appointed African-American officials in the county. The purpose of the meeting, according to Broadwater, was to discuss some of the issues raised at the NAACP rally.14 In late February 1979, the newly elected NAACP chapter president, William Martin, and Prince George’s County board of education chairman, Norman Saunders, met with the school board’s attorney and other AfricanAmerican leaders. The outcome of the secret meetings was the negotiation of a plan to modify the busing provisions of the 1972 court order.15 Although organizational rules required the local chapter to submit a plan to the national chapter’s legal and education departments prior to approval, Martin purposefully ignored conventional procedures and a directive by the executive committee of the county chapter to consult an attorney regarding the issue. Despite facing hostility from members of the local and national chapters, Martin continued to support the plan.16 In retaliation to Martin’s unapproved negotiations with the school board chairman, twelve out of seventeen executive board members of the local chapter called on the national chapter to immediately remove him from office. Describing the agreement as one that would only “reward those who advocate obstructionism and delay,” national NAACP Chairman Benjamin Hooks joined the executive committee in criticism of Martin’s actions.17 Martin and school board chairman Norman Saunders said that their actions were justified because of a need to revise busing assignments that were based on the racial composition of neighborhoods six years ago. According to Martin and Saunders, the busing assignments essentially bused African Americans living in integrated neighborhoods to predominantly AfricanAmerican schools outside of their area.18 If passed by the school board, the new plan would allow children living in integrated communities the opportunity to go to their neighborhood schools.

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

111

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

112


This policy position in no way encompassed the interests or desires of poor African Americans. According to Martin, his actions represented the desires of a group of African Americans living in integrated outer Beltway areas of the county. Their views, argued Martin, differ from those of African Americans living in predominantly African-American, inner Beltway communities. African Americans living in outer Beltway communities, asserted Martin, were not fearful of the possibilities of resegregation and wanted their children to attend schools in their own neighborhoods rather than continue busing them to predominantly African-American schools. Claiming that his constituency consisted of African-American professionals and businessmen, Martin maintained that he felt his actions had been worth the risk.19 Otis Ducker, the person who had arranged the secret meeting between the NAACP president, the school board chair, and other African-American leaders, defended Martin’s actions and maintained that the majority of African Americans in the county also supported Martin.20 Martin alleged that the NAACP dispute was symptomatic of countywide cultural tensions between African Americans who were longtime residents of the county and more affluent African-American newcomers. Martin argued, “It is a sad thing, that African Americans are attacked by other African Americans just because they move out of the slums into middle class neighborhoods, or because their skin is lighter.”21 Responding to Martin’s sentiments regarding the busing issue, Sylvester Vaughns, former NAACP chapter president and original plaintiff in the 1972 court action, said that it angers him when he hears “newcomer African-American folks” complain about having their children bused out of integrated neighborhoods into predominantly African-American schools. They like to feel as if they have it made, that they’re over the hill and to hell with the rest of you all. Well listen brother, we were here first and we went through hell to get things where they are.22 As NAACP chapter president from 1973 to 1978, Vaughns had consistently opposed any changes in the busing plan despite shifting demographics in the county. He maintained that altering busing patterns in one area of the county ultimately would affect the entire county, and as a result of his experiences with the county school board, he did not trust the county to assure equal resources to single-race schools.23 Martin’s actions according to Vaughns, placed the NAACP “in the position of saying that busing in Prince George’s County was counterproductive.”24 On March 8, 1979, NAACP Chairman Benjamin Hooks suspended Martin, pending an investigation of charges against him. Later that month,

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

112

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


113

after a hearing on the case, a national NAACP committee voted to recommend that Martin be permanently suspended.25 With the exception of Bonnie Johns, the lone African-American voting member on the school board, all of the school board members had initially supported the efforts of school board chairman Norman Saunders to negotiate the agreement between Martin and other African-American leaders. Although some criticized Saunders’ lack of consultation with the board regarding his intentions, no board member at that time called for his removal.26 After Martin’s suspension in March, Saunders and school board attorney Paul Nussbaum made unsuccessful attempts to gain support for the busing reduction plan from the original plaintiffs to the 1972 school board suit.27 In late May 1979, however, Saunders’ attempts to woo African-American support for the plan hit a snag. After allegations that “Saunders had secretly offered to block the closing of a predominantly African-American elementary school in exchange for two African-American leaders’ support of his plan to reduce busing,” school board members called for his resignation as chairman.28 Although several school members now questioned Saunders’ leadership strategies, their lack of confidence did not translate into a rejection of the goal driving Saunders—a reduction of busing in the county. Basic support for the idea was evidenced when on September 13, 1979, board member Susan B. Bieniasz, one of the key actors in the move to oust Saunders, proposed a busing plan that sought to reduce the busing of about 10,000 children. According to Bieniasz, the plan was needed in order to curb white flight from the county.29 Although the plan was rejected, other board members supporting the plan—Angelo Caselli and Chester E. Whiting—also supported Saunders’ ouster. Ironically, Saunders did not support Bieniasz’s plan but said that “the board should allow a citizen advisory committee that had already been authorized to study the issue to go ahead with its work without interference.”30 In October 1979 the school board appointed a twenty-sevenmember committee and charged it with “seeking ways to reduce busing without resegregating the schools.”31

EDUCATION POLITICS IN THE 1980S With the exception of African-American school board member Bonnie Johns, school board members appointed members of the advisory committee. Johns decided not to participate or to make any appointments to the committee, because its mission ran counter to her desire to continue busing. When ACLU member Claire Bigelow resigned from the advisory committee, there were no representatives from either the NAACP or the ACLU. Previous supporters of the busing modification plan, however, were well represented. African-American

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

113

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

114


membership on the committee included former Martin supporters Otis Ducker as well as James Garrett, who was head of the Riverbend Black Coalition against Unnecessary Busing.32 Although the committee invited NAACP and ACLU representatives to testify at an upcoming meeting, its invitations were declined. Claire Bigelow, who headed Prince George’s ACLU’s education committee, maintained that the group’s noninvolvement was due to a difference in primary goals. “They are concerned with reducing busing, and we’re most concerned about creating an integrated school system,” stated Bigelow.33 Although both the NAACP and the ACLU presented opposition to the advisory committee’s final plan, the school board approved it on April 11, 1980. If implemented, the plan would reduce by 25 percent the number of students being bused to schools in the county.34 Although neither NAACP nor ACLU concurrence was necessary for the school board to act on the plan, the sentiments of the two groups had typically been taken into account in order to thwart the possibility of a lawsuit. A stronger show of cohesiveness or policy consensus around the issue in the African-American community would have certainly ensured the school board of the African-American community’s intentions to fight the busing reduction plan. But the school board, positive that it had necessary support for the plan, decided to disregard threats by the NAACP and the ACLU that they would return to court if the plan were approved. In the next two weeks, national NAACP spokesman John Rosser, citing a twenty-three-month study of the county school system, argued that there were almost as many substantially one-race schools as there were before the January 1973 start-up date of the court order. With the results of the NAACP financed study, Rosser threatened that the NAACP would reopen the desegregation case unless the county school board took immediate steps to address violations to the 1972 ruling.35 On September 1, 1981, the NAACP, charging that “nine years of federal court-ordered busing in Prince George’s County had failed to adequately desegregate the county’s public schools, asked the federal court to reopen the case, also arguing that the school board failed to hire enough minority teachers, placed teachers in a “racially discriminatory manner,” disciplined AfricanAmerican youth more often than whites, and steered African-American students into special education classes for the mentally handicapped, while white students were pushed toward more advanced programs for the talented and gifted.36 The defense’s argument in the case rested on the contention that the school board had done all that it could do to manage the swelling ranks of the African-American school population. African-American student enrollment had increased from 24.5 percent in 1972, when the desegregation order

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

114

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


115

was initially handed down, to 52.1 percent in the decade following the decision. While the number of white students had declined, largely due to white flight from the county to avoid busing, the total African-American population had nearly tripled. Any deviations from the court’s 1972 order, the defense maintained, could thus be attributed to increases in African-American population and white flight rather than deliberate attempts to segregate African-American and white students.37 On September 8, 1983, responding to NAACP charges that AfricanAmerican students faced discriminatory action in discipline, in placement in classes for talented students, and in special education classes, Judge Kaufman ruled that the school board had not intentionally discriminated in those areas. He did, however, conclude that the school system had not fully complied with the 1972 order that mandated the integration of the school system.38 Taking into account increases in African-American student enrollment, Judge Kaufman also altered the African-American student school ratios from no less than 10 percent and no more than 50 percent to no less than 10 percent and no more than 80 percent.39 In October 1983, the school board decided to appeal Judge Kaufman’s orders by a vote of 7 to 2. The school board’s African-American members (then at two) voted against the appeal. On March 29, 1985, despite persistent arguments by the school board that the segregation that had resulted was not intentional, the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals decided that the federal court had properly ruled.40 Despite the decision of the federal court and the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, a group of African-American parents comprising the Black Coalition against Unnecessary Busing continued to lobby against the adoption of the plan. They also asked the local chapter of the NAACP to withdraw its thirteen-year-old lawsuit against the school system. Principal organizers of the group opposed to busing included African-American Parent-Teacher Association (PTA) presidents and African-American school board member Barbara Fletcher Martin. Martin, who had replaced Bonnie Johns on the board of education, was the only African-American member opposed to the busing plan.41 As an alternative to busing, the group set forth a plan that would lower student-teacher ratios, add new programs of instruction, and increase resources for schools where test scores were low. Their sentiments against busing were so strong that they agreed to neighborhood schools even if they were attended by only one race.42 Simultaneous to the coalition’s request for the NAACP’s withdrawal of the suit, the Final Report on Desegregation of Prince George’s County Public Schools (commonly referred to as the Green Report) was issued. The report, which had been ordered by Judge Kaufman, made several controversial

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

115

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

116


recommendations that were not supported by either side in the debate. The report called for two-way busing involving some 30,000 students, the pairing of schools, and additional school closings to achieve effective desegregation of the school system.43 Chief among complaints were sentiments from African-American parents who resented increased school closings in their communities and who felt that African-American students already bore the brunt of busing without there being evidence that busing provided significant benefits.44 In addition, many were concerned about the cost of initiating the recommendations in the report, while others, both white and African American, continued to argue for neighborhood schools.45 Judge Kaufman threatened increased busing if parties to the suit did not work out disagreements on the implementation of the 1985 order. Afterward, the “school board and the NAACP joined forces to convince Kaufman that a voluntary system of magnet schools featuring one-race (Milliken II) schools would be preferable to increased busing.”46

EDUCATION POLITICS IN THE 1990S Beyond desegregation, one of the most contentious issues in the education arena in the 1990s revolved around the African-American community’s desire for an African-American school superintendent. In 1990, County Executive Parris Glendening faced tremendous hostility from the African-American community over an agreement that he proposed to School Superintendent John A. Murphy. The agreement proposed extending Murphy’s contract an additional ten years, raising his $105,000 salary to $150,000 annually and providing him with a $250,000 retirement annuity. As a sign of support for Glendening’s proposal, Senate President Mike Miller initiated legislation to lift the four-year contract limitation on the superintendent position. Critics of the contract included the NAACP, members of the board of education, and state Senators Trotter and Wynn. Although Murphy had support among African-American community leaders, one of their objections to the contract was that Glendening had not consulted them about the negotiations. The other objection was that the contract agreement would have precluded the appointment of an African-American superintendent for at least ten years, despite the fact that the school system was 65 percent African American. After facing considerable opposition to the plan, Glendening dropped his support for Miller’s contract extending legislation. However, he defended his proposal on the grounds that he wished to retain Murphy, who had become a finalist in a Dade County, Florida, search for a new superintendent.47

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

116

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


117

Although some African-American leaders supported Murphy, others felt that, despite winning national attention and accolades for turning the school system around, he had not done enough for African-American students to warrant such a large pay increase. After hearing about the intense opposition to the agreement, Murphy asked the school board to release him from his current contractual obligation. In an impassioned letter, Murphy maintained that “the racial politics and political gamesmanship displayed in certain quarters of our community have created considerable racial discord,” and that he “could no longer stay in a county where he did not have support.”48 School board member Doris Eugene and other Murphy supporters noted that the views expressed by the African-American community were false, and that African-American student test scores had risen by 20 percentage points during the five years that Murphy had been superintendent. They also argued that as a result of Murphy’s actions, half of the system’s associate and assistant superintendents and 45 percent of the principals were African American. External assessments of Murphy’s tenure, however, have not been as positive. Eaton and Cruther, for example, argue that Murphy failed to realize the goals of the Magnet and Milliken schools, chief of which was to improve educational achievement and educational quality across the system.49 Although African-American test scores rose under Murphy, they nonetheless lagged behind white test scores. At a subsequent school board hearing focusing on replacing Murphy, the NAACP demanded that the next superintendent be an African American. Others, however, including Alex Williams, acting on behalf of the Alliance of African-American Elected Officials, encouraged the board to avoid focusing on race.50 The process of selecting a new school superintendent yielded two candidates, one white and one African American. At the school board meeting during which the final vote was to be cast, two African-American board members sustained, because they supported the appointment of an interim superintendent until a more thorough search could be conducted. Three board members, including one African American, Beverly Beander, cast votes for African-American school administrator Jerome Clark. Although Clark did not have wide-based appeal in the African-American community, he was more acceptable than the white candidate. The remaining four board members, who were all white, cast their votes for the white candidate, Edward M. Felegy, thereby giving him the majority of the votes. Had the two African-American board members voted for Clark’s appointment, he would have received the majority of the vote and the board’s nomination. Felegy was subsequently appointed, and Clark later became the deputy superintendent, the school system’s second-highest position. According to interviewees, the actions of the three African-American school board members exhibited their inability to strategize as well as a lack

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

117

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

118


of political savvy. These two factors, according to interviewees, resulted in a lost opportunity to appoint an African-American superintendent. In April 1991, Superintendent Felegy recommended a plan that would allow an additional 850 students to attend neighborhood schools without upsetting racial balances mandated by the 1985 desegregation order. Many in the community, both African-American and white, had once again begun to feel that the busing patterns, based on routes that were drawn up in 1973, were counterproductive. According to those who supported Felegy’s plan, African-American students were being bused to majority African-American schools instead of being allowed to attend schools closer to their homes.51 In 1991, African-American students comprised 66 percent of the school population, compared to 24.5 percent when the school’s desegregation remedy was implemented in 1973. The limited number of schools in many predominantly African-American inner Beltway communities, however, precluded the assignment of children to neighborhood schools.52 Despite growing opposition to busing, the NAACP refused to enter into discussions with the school board regarding withdrawing its support for the desegregation order. The NAACP leaders, as well as many African-American community residents, felt that the court order was the only leverage that the African-American community had to ensure that African Americans would receive a quality education. Many felt that an end to the order would refocus attention on predominantly white schools at the expense of African-American schools. Without the NAACP’s support, any hopes of persuading Judge Kaufman to drop the court order would rely heavily on the school system’s ability to convince the court that the large number of African-American students in the system rendered the order ineffective. Persuading Judge Kaufman also would rely heavily on a major school construction plan to replace neighborhood schools that were closed in the 1970s and early 1980s as a result of declining enrollment. In response to Felegy’s proposal to reassign 850 children to schools closer to their neighborhoods, many parents lobbied school board members to retain children in the schools that they were attending. Needless to say, these parents were probably from poorer inner Beltway communities. As a result, however, the plan, which was implemented in the 1991–92 school year, reassigned only 382 students.53 The small number of students reassigned suggests that the desire to end busing was not as widespread as supporters claimed. In 1992, Parris Glendening jumped on the bandwagon, calling for an end to court-ordered busing. Recognizing that ending the desegregation court order required substantial changes, he proposed a major school construction and renovation program that would allow thousands of students to attend

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

118

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


119

neighborhood schools. As a result of limited funds, however, the feasibility of such a plan was minimal.54 The NAACP retained its opposition to withdrawing the order, citing its limited faith that the system would provide equal resources for inner Beltway schools that would be attended primarily by poorer African Americans. According to Glendening, his support for ending the suit rested on the difficulty that parents experienced in participating in their children’s school activities at distant schools. Glendening maintained that busing had “been a drag on the local economy,” and that although business development was doing well, top personnel and executives did not choose to live in the county because of their concerns over busing.55 In late September 1993, the Turner Commission—a twenty-seven-member commission of local business and community leaders established to suggest ways to improve the efficiency and quality of Prince George’s County’s government services—issued a scathing report on the school system. Among its many proposals, the commission suggested stripping the board of education of its power and replacing it with a private provider. According to the commission, a private system with an open enrollment policy would promote academic competition and allow parents more choice in their children’s education.56 The commission report also suggested making space available in magnet schools for all families that wanted it and creating a plan for freeing the district from court-ordered busing by December 1994. Responses to the report were mixed. Again, the critics’ chief concern was that inner Beltway schools would suffer under the plan, as a result of their location in predominantly African-American areas.57 Although a lack of funding would make moot the recommendations of the Turner Commission report, many of the issues addressed in the report and by school board members were indeed pertinent, namely, the ineffectiveness of busing to create further desegregation. In the fall of 1992, fifty-eight of the county’s 176 schools either exceeded the 80 percent African-American enrollment limit mandated by the court order or came close to it. This was largely the result of the system’s large African-American population—comprising 67.6 percent of the total population during the 1992–93 school year—compared to the 23.5 percent white student population.58 African-American middle- and upper-class parents had opposed busing during the 1970s and 1980s. In the 1990s, their numbers grew, as more African-American families began to reside in integrated outer Beltway communities. Despite their opposition to busing, however, the NAACP continued to oppose changes in the court order and had opposed all discussions with the school board on the issue since 1990. The NAACP represented the interests of poorer African Americans living in inner Beltway, predominantly

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

119

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

120


African-American communities, those who continued to desire busing their children to safer neighborhoods in the county, or those who believed that their children benefited from attending schools with a greater racial mix.59 Although most whites in the county felt that busing had outlived its usefulness, the predominantly white school board believed that efforts to eliminate the court order without significant changes and increased funding to the school system would be futile and potentially racially disruptive. The school board also was concerned that an elimination of busing that was occurring for desegregation purposes would be largely ineffective. Of the 77,000 students bused during the 1992–93 school year, only 11,000 students (14% of the total school population) were bused for desegregation purposes. The remaining 66,000 students who were bused consisted of 57,000 who rode school buses because of the large size of the county and 9,000 who voluntarily attended magnet schools. As a result of the large number of students not bused for desegregation purposes, the county would save only $1.5 million of its $45 million transportation budget if the busing mandates of the order were eliminated.60 In 1994, the board of education proposed to spend $346 million to create a system of high-performing neighborhood schools. According to the board, $176 million would be spent on the construction of twelve additional schools and significant additions and on improvements to nineteen schools. The remaining $172 million would provide more instructional programs. The plan was proposed to begin in the 1996-97 school year and to continue over six years.61 Despite good intentions, many continued to argue that the projected plan would do nothing to end disparities existing in test scores and achievement between African-American and white children. The school board plan did, however, receive overwhelming support from white and many African-American state and local elected officials, and it was considered necessary to convince federal Judge Kaufman and the NAACP to release the school system from the court order. Nonetheless, many were concerned about the cost of the plan, which would call for significant increases in the school system’s $640 million budget.62 Spending on education had been extremely limited since the early 1980s, therefore, even those who were enthusiastic about the plan approached it with caution.

SCHOOL FUNDING AND SPENDING PATTERNS During the 1972–73 school year, Prince George’s County ranked fifth among Maryland’s twenty-four school systems in per pupil expenditures. Five years after the desegregation order—1977–78—the county’s rank had increased to third place.63

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

120

8/13/02, 9:34 PM


121

Since the early 1980s, school spending had fluctuated tremendously. The board of education, quasi-public commissions, and community organizations that were concerned with school funding and spending patterns complained vehemently about the need to increase spending throughout the system. Poor student performance on standardized tests also warranted increased spending and increased programs of instruction. Despite dissatisfaction with school funding patterns, the funding issue remained a dilemma as a result of the Tax Reform Initiative by Marylanders (TRIM), a measure that was passed in 1978 to limit property tax increases. During economic downturns, the measure had greatly limited the amount of revenue for essential services, and it also had a significant impact on the amount of funds available for education.64 In 1991, County Executive Glendening was able to bypass the tax limitation by securing a court ruling that allowed him to raise the tax rate in order to maintain essential county services. With minimal opposition from county residents, the tax rate increased the average property tax bill by $84. Despite the increase, however, spending for education and public safety was maintained at the previous year’s level.65 In December 1991, the Committee of 100, the group responsible for monitoring the school system’s compliance with the 1985 order, formally called for increased taxes to fund education. The committee’s chief complaint was the loss of $54 million in the school’s budget between 1989 and 1991. The school board acknowledged that education spending had declined to 42 percent of the county’s budget, from 47 percent in 1981. However, it maintained that obtaining approval for increased taxes for education would be difficult, given that 75 percent of residents did not have children in public schools.66 In March 1994, Glendening’s election year budget for fiscal year 1995 proposed a 6.5 percent increase—$41 million—in spending on education, as well as a 7 percent increase overall from 1994 fiscal year spending. Although significant, the increase fell $26 million short of the figure requested by the board of education.67 Later, however, it was clear that the level of spending increases for education proposed in the Glendening budget was unlikely, due to budget projections that calculated that the county would lose $9.5 million in state aid for fiscal year 1995.68 Glendening campaigned and won his Maryland gubernatorial race as the education governor. However, critics contended that during his terms as county executive, “a progressively smaller share of the education budget had been coming from county tax dollars, and more had been coming from the state government.”69 Programs that addressed achievement disparities and inequities were limited. Most of the programs that did exist grew out of the county’s desegregation plan.

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

121

8/13/02, 9:34 PM

122


EDUCATION-RELATED PROGRAMS The Magnet and Milliken II schools formed a significant component of the 1985 desegregation plan. The Magnet schools addressed the system’s desire to retain white students amidst considerable white flight. Milliken II schools, on the other hand, provided additional resources for predominantly AfricanAmerican schools that proved difficult to integrate. Interviewees, including former school board chair Alvin Thornton, felt that African-American students ultimately would have been better served by added resources and by attending schools in their own neighborhoods. Because the magnet program sought to attract white students, many officials and community leaders felt that the program established a two-tier segregated educational system and primarily benefited white students. Additional concerns over the school desegregation remedy involved disparities in funding between the system’s three types of schools. During the 1992–93 school year, the school system spent “$564, or 10 percent, more per pupil at the Milliken schools than at regular [comprehensive/neighborhood] schools, and an average of $346, or 6 percent, more per pupil in the magnet programs.”70 Gaps in school per pupil spending between the neighborhood and Milliken II schools had, however, decreased from their 1989–90 levels. In the 1989– 90 school year, per pupil spending was $4,578 in the comprehensive schools and $5,267 in the Milliken II compensatory schools—a $689 difference.71 Spending gaps had, however, increased between the Milliken II and Magnet schools during the 1992–93 school year. In the 1989–90 school year, per pupil spending in the Magnet schools was $5,093—$174 less than in Milliken II school per pupil spending, compared to $218 less during the 1992–93 school year. In response to gaps in spending, the Committee of 100 endorsed asking the board to go to court to secure additional funding for education. The ninety-eight neighborhood schools that had received less money per pupil since the 1985 implementation of the Magnet and Milliken II school programs were their chief concern.72 Until increased funding was secured, however, the programs that grew out of the Memorandum of Understanding would receive the bulk of the county’s educational resources. The Memorandum of Understanding served as “the governing document for the magnet based desegregation of the Prince George’s County public school system.” The document contains five primary provisions. The first provision created a system of magnet school programs. The second established a limited number of one-race (Milliken II) schools. The third established the Community Advisory Council, with a monitoring subcommittee (the Committee of 100). The fourth created a mandatory backup involuntary busing plan. Finally, the fifth was a board of education commitment to hire

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

122

8/13/02, 9:35 PM


123

and promote African Americans throughout all employment levels of the public school system.73 As indicated, the Magnet schools were the chief component of the county’s desegregation remedy. In 1994, fifty-six of the county’s 176 schools had Magnet components. The Magnet school program represented a system of eleven different types of schools offering specialties at the elementary, middle, and high school levels. Specialty programs included Traditional Academic Centers, Biotechnology, Communication and Academic Studies, Creative and Performing Arts, French Immersion, Humanities and International Studies, Montessori, Science, Mathematics and Technology, Talented and Gifted (TAG), Traditional/ Classical Academy, University High School, and Visual and Performing Arts High School. Students who applied to the Magnet school programs had to exhibit promise to succeed in a particular specialty. One of the initial concerns about the Magnet school programs was their long waiting lists. Of particular concern to African-American parents was the fact that African-American students made up the majority of students on Magnet school waiting lists. In the spring of 1993, for example, there were 6,000 applications for the Magnet school programs for a total of 2,000 openings.74 By the 1994–95 school year, however, African-American enrollment in Magnet schools had increased to 70 percent of Magnet school enrollment. This figure represented an increase from the 58 percent that were enrolled in Magnet schools in the 1987–88 school year.75 The Milliken II School Plan was patterned after the Milliken schools, which resulted from the 1977 Milliken v. Bradley decision, in which Detroit schools received compensation when they could not be desegregated. In 1994, twenty-one of the county’s 176 schools were Milliken II schools. Components of the Milliken II school program included reduced class size, additional instruction in mathematics, foreign language, and reading, supplemental media resources, enriched cultural programs, summer school for at-risk students, a full-time guidance counselor, fully equipped computer labs, portable computers that students could borrow overnight, a full-time library media specialist, and the James Comer School Development Process. The most promising component of the Milliken II School Program was the Comer plan, based on the notion that poor student achievement can be traced to lower expectations of disadvantaged children. The program relies heavily on changing faculty and staff attitudes about disadvantaged children. Components of the program include increased parental involvement and “a mental health team of school personnel to deal with attitudes, morale, and other issues that affect teachers and the school environment.”76 The Comer plan was initially introduced in ten Milliken II schools in 1985. By 1994, it operated in all twenty-one Milliken II schools.

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

123

8/13/02, 9:35 PM

124


The major concern regarding the Milliken II schools was the amount of money and resources they received above the comprehensive/neighborhood schools and the Magnet schools. Although added resources represent the aim of the Milliken II school plan, many felt that funding should have been increased and equalized throughout the school system.77 In 1994, the Prince George’s school system had not evaluated the benefits or disadvantages of the Magnet school or Milliken II school programs on African-American student school achievement. A Harvard University study, conducted by Gary Orfield, suggested, however, that the remedy provided under the Milliken II School program “has [not] improved test scores, and in some school districts test scores show that the disparity between AfricanAmerican and white students is widening.” Eaton and Crutcher (1996) share in this assessment and argue that “the widely accepted claims of miraculous success regarding the county’s local education reforms have never been substantiated.” A preliminary study, issued by the Prince George’s County system in 1987, revealed, however, that in selected grades and areas of study, Milliken II students who took the October 1986 California Achievement Tests had a higher rate of improvement than other students in the school system.78 Apart from the programs that were created as a component of the desegregation order, the Black Male Student Achievement Program and the Multicultural Education Program were specifically created to address the specific needs of African-American students. The former was initiated on December 20, 1989, by Superintendent John A. Murphy to address the needs of African-American male students whose achievement record in the county was far lower than other groups in the school population. The fourteenmember committee established to study and monitor barriers to AfricanAmerican male achievement consisted of business, religious, and academic leaders, and it was chaired by Wayne Curry.79 In its 1990 report to Superintendent Murphy, the committee recommended that as much as $110 million be allocated toward reversing the performance of African-American males, creating smaller classes, having more African-American role models, and utlizing a curriculum not specifically oriented toward Western history and culture.80 In many respects, these recommendations have been taken up through other initiatives, namely, multicultural education, and the school system’s efforts to increase AfricanAmerican male teachers. In June 1987, board of education members Sarah Johnson and Catherine Burch introduced a resolution that called on Superintendent Murphy to assign a task force to examine the potential for multicultural education throughout the school system.81 The resolution was adopted unanimously by the board, and the development of the program began in 1991.82

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

124

8/13/02, 9:35 PM


125

Development of the plan, however, came after months of haggling over the direction of the multicultural curriculum. Some board members favored an African-American emphasis in the curriculum, while others supported a diverse curriculum that would include the achievements, history, and culture of other minority groups. African-American school board member Sarah Johnson argued for an African-American emphasis to the curriculum, stating that the push for multicultural education had come from African-American parents.83 At that time, African Americans represented 69 percent of the total school population. Nonetheless, the school board ultimately approved a diverse curriculum. The school board’s choice may have been an attempt to sidestep further tensions between white parents with children in the system and the school board. For the past two decades, whites had responded negatively to perceptions that African Americans were taking over the school system. If nothing else, white flight outside of the school system had taught school administrators about the perils of inciting white tensions.

THE WHITE RESPONSE TO BUSING AND SCHOOL DESEGREGATION As a result of school desegregation and busing, Prince George’s County’s school system “lost more white students than any other major school system in the United States during the 1970s and 1980s.”84 While white enrollment decreased by 55 percent to 32 percent of total enrollment between 1967 and 1986, African-American enrollment increased by 48 percent to 61 percent during the same period.85 By 1974, the first year after the implementation of the court-mandated desegregation order, 8,000 white students had left the county school system. By 1980, white enrollment had dropped by 63,000.86 In 1994, the AfricanAmerican student population comprised 69 percent of the total school population and was projected to be 75 percent by the 2000–01 school year. In 1973, the year the court order was implemented, whites comprised 75 percent of the total school population.87 According to social scientist Gary Orfield, suburban school systems are changing more rapidly in racial composition than are central city schools. The outcome of rapidly changing suburban school districts, according to Orfield, is that suburban schools “are now being forced to come to terms with an increasing number of minority students who tend to be poorer and to perform less well academically than white students.”88 The greatest response to African-American migration and school desegregation has been the dramatic decline in the white population in the past

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

125

8/13/02, 9:35 PM

126


decades. The 1980 census measured a 30 percent decline in the white population, and the 1990 census measured an additional 20 percent decline.

THE IMPACT OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN SUBURBAN MIGRATION ON EDUCATION POLICY Prince George’s County, like other suburban districts, has had to come to terms with an increasing number of minority students. The transition from a majority white to a majority African-American school district has not, however, been a smooth one. The prevalence of disunity among AfricanAmerican elected officials, community leaders, and a socioeconomically diverse African-American community has only complicated matters and has thwarted the African-American community’s ability to set forth a unified, common agenda. African-American elected officials in the county have done little to further the initiation and implementation of educational programs designed to eliminate disparities in educational opportunities and achievement between African-American and white schoolchildren in Prince George’s County. What has been done has largely been the result of lobbying efforts by community activists, ad hoc committees established to present initiatives on education policy, and the legal system. The school superintendent and the school board have initiated most policy initiatives. According to former school board member Paul Shelby, policy is “based more on what the superintendent recommends than what the community might perceive or want.” Most people, Shelby maintains, know very little, and “know more about where the football team ended up in the standing than what is being taught in their kid’s school.”89 When asked to cite unique educational programs initiated and implemented by African Americans to address disparities in education opportunities and achievement between African-American and white schoolchildren, many interviewees were hard pressed to cite initiatives other than those included in the Magnet and Milliken II school plans. The most frequently cited proposals, however, were the Black Male Achievement Program and Multicultural Education Program. When asked which group or individuals initiated or was/were instrumental in implementing the programs cited, all respondents, except board of education members and those involved in the Black Male Achievement Program, attributed the Black Male Achievement Program to former Superintendent John Murphy. None knew who had initiated the Multicultural Education Program. In addition to John Murphy, Wayne Curry was cited to have played an instrumental role in the Black Male Achievement Program. Curry had served

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

126

8/13/02, 9:35 PM


127

as chairperson on the Superintendent’s Advisory Committee on Black Male Achievement. Although former African-American board of education members attributed the initiation of the Black Male Achievement Program to former Superintendent Murphy, they mentioned that the initiative was more the result of pressure from forces external to the school system. In particular, they credited the Ad Hoc Committee on Quality Education, chaired by school board members Alvin Thornton and Frederick Hutchinson. Thornton’s and Hutchinson’s involvement on the committee preceded their election to the board. Although the Black Male Achievement Program and the Multicultural Education Program were popular initiatives, neither has been fully funded, and thus both have had limited, if any, impact on the life chances of AfricanAmerican children in Prince George’s County. In the fall of 1992, Prince George’s County purchased new textbooks with a multicultural focus. Although they represented a greater multicultural focus than textbooks that had been used previously, the county could only afford to purchase books for one class in each of the county’s schools.90 Other unique educational programs that were cited as having an impact on achievement disparities included the Atlas project, a National Science Foundation grant, Project Success, and various mentoring programs. All of these programs, however, were either externally driven or the initiative of community and church organizations. When asked about the success of such programs, no respondent attributed success to any program. Rather, the responses ranged from “neither successful or unsuccessful” to “unsuccessful.” When asked what the impediments were to the programs’ success, all respondents mentioned limited funding as a barrier. When asked about the level of unity for education-related issues in the African-American community and among African-American elected officials, most respondents cited school busing and the debate over neighborhood schools as subjects that have divided the African-American community as well as African-American elected officials. As mentioned, many interviewees cited components of the Milliken II program as unique educational programs initiated and implemented by African Americans to eliminate educational disparities. To some extent, this is true, due to the fact that the parents who filed the school desegregation lawsuit were African American, and the fact that the county NAACP was a party to the suit. Despite African-American involvement in the suit, however, the initiatives resulted from the court system rather than the political process in the county or African-American elected officials. African-American elected officials in the county have basically maintained reactionary postures to educational issues, or they have voted either in

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

127

8/13/02, 9:35 PM

128


support of or opposition to educational policies and practices already in place. Most, if not all, involvement in programs designed to eliminate disparities have emanated from community organizations and leaders. The exception is the multicultural initiative introduced by Sarah Johnson at the urging of African-American parents in her district. A fair assessment, however, would take into consideration that during the primary battle for school desegregation—the 1970s—African-American elected officials represented a small portion of elected officials in the county, therefore, they were able to do less than they are able to do currently. With African-American representation on the board of education at a near majority in 1994, the future holds the potential for African Americans to significantly influence educational policy in Prince George’s County. The African-American community’s diverse interests, though, may diminish this likelihood.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN CONSENSUS IN THE EDUCATION ARENA This research has surveyed nine major issues and actions relating to African Americans in the education policy arena in Prince George’s County. The African-American community was split and failed to reach consensus in seven of the nine cases. Only two out of the nine cases depict instances where AfricanAmerican community leaders reached an overwhelming level of consensus. All nine cases involved interaction between the African-American community and white leaders and white-controlled policy-making bodies. In eight out of the nine cases, white officials and white-controlled policy-making bodies were overwhelmingly unified in their objectives. In the remaining case—involving the appointment of an African-American superintendent— white leaders and organizations were nearly ambivalent but preferred that race not be a consideration of appointment. Despite overwhelming white consensus regarding the goals and strategies represented in eight out of the nine cases, white leaders and white-controlled policy-making bodies were only successful in their objectives twice. Their limited success, however, was less the result of actions emanating from the African-American community than it was of the impact that the federal court system exerted. Without the intervention of the court system, integration probably would not have taken place. Most significant to this study, however, are the two cases that depict African-American community consensus. Both represent instances where a unified African-American community obtained the results it was seeking. These results yield important conclusions for the period under study. For one, the results clearly show the significance of cohesiveness. When the African-

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

128

8/13/02, 9:35 PM


129

American community established a consensus, it was likely to be successful. As indicated, failure to reach consensus was the result of the different interests within the African-American community. In a stalemate over interests, whose interests should prevail?

SUMMARY The battle for quality educational resources and opportunity for AfricanAmerican children in Prince George’s County has been complex. This chapter, however, shows that African-American elected officials, community leaders, and members of the socioeconomically diverse African-American community have lacked unity in many instances when a concerted, unified effort would have potentially yielded different results. An example of this is the early attempts to make alterations to the original desegregation order. The white-controlled school board would not have attempted to make modifications had members of the African-American community presented a unified agenda. With the support of AfricanAmerican leaders and some segments of the African-American community, the school board was able to press for modifications, which ultimately led to increased hostilities over the issue. Another example that had the capacity to yield different results was the battle for an African-American school superintendent in the early 1990s. Again, while some members of the African-American community, namely, the NAACP, pressed for an African-American superintendent, some African-American elected officials attempted to subordinate race as an issue, despite the fact that the school population at that time was overwhelmingly African American. Another major problem associated with the level of influence that the African-American community has yielded in the education policy arena has been the lack of initiative by African-American elected officials to develop and pursue a policy that targeted African-American educational achievement or opportunity. Only one policy during the period of study was initiated by an African-American elected official. In many instances, African-American elected officials and community activists have assumed a reactionary posture—simply accepting or opposing policy initiatives handed down by the superintendent and the school board. The concessions that the AfricanAmerican community has received from the education system have largely resulted from external factors—pressures from the court system. The reactionary posture of African-American elected officials, however, may be more a result of the diverse constituencies in the African-American community than of the lack of political prowess of African-American officials

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

129

8/13/02, 9:35 PM

130


and leaders. Because Prince George’s County’s African-American community is socioeconomically diverse, it becomes difficult to establish a policy agenda that adequately serves the interests of all subgroups, and this should be the expectation wherever socioeconomic diversity exists, whether in the city or on the national level. It may, however, be more acute in suburban communities such as Prince George’s County, where there is an appreciable population of both the poor and the affluent. On the organizational level, this poses a significant challenge. As opposition to busing has increased within the African-American community, it has been a difficult task for organizations such as the NAACP to determine what is actually in the best interest of the entire African-American community, or whose interests should predominate. As the AfricanAmerican middle class increases in number and continues to migrate to suburban jurisdictions where poor African Americans reside, the problems associated with determining “African-American interests” will increasingly challenge African-American elected officials and community leaders or promote class-based mobilization efforts.

32903_SP_JOH_CH06_107-130

130

8/13/02, 9:35 PM

Chapter Seven

The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation

African Americans in Prince George’s County exceed the national averages of African Americans nationally on all socioeconomic indicators. Population gains, coupled with white flight, have rendered African Americans a majority in the county and have had an impact on African-American representation on key policy-making bodies. Despite these factors, disparities in socioeconomic status and education achievement continue to exist between African Americans and whites in the county, as is the case in major cities across America. The goal of African-American political incorporation and empowerment is to implement policies and programs that promote the policy interests of the African-American community. In this regard, African Americans in Prince George’s County have yet to realize full political incorporation. Among the many impediments to African-American political incorporation in Prince George’s County, four stand out here. The first and perhaps primary impediment is the distinct and divergent class interests within the AfricanAmerican community. The second is closely aligned and relates to African Americans’ inability to mobilize collectively to elect representatives in proportion to their numbers in the population. Third, and, again, closely aligned, African Americans have been unable to form a consensus around a policy agenda in the education arena. Finally, African Americans have encountered tremendous resistance to becoming equal partners in the dominant governing coalition. One of the greatest strengths of African Americans in Prince George’s County is their socioeconomic resources. Ironically, however, socioeconomic resources have acted as a double-edged sword to African Americans’ ability to obtain representation commensurate to their numbers in the population 131

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

131

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

132


and to impact on the education policy agenda. On the one hand, AfricanAmerican Prince Georgians exceed the socioeconomic status of Americans in the general population. On the other hand, the presence of a poorer, less educated African-American community has thwarted its ability to reach consensus and set forth a unified policy agenda. This in turn has impacted on African Americans’ leverage within the dominant governing coalition, leaving them fractured and largely dependent upon the external environment to break the stalemate. The model guiding this study asserts that African-American suburban political incorporation, or the ability to influence policy, is predicated upon internal and external factors. Internal factors include the type of policy in question, the size of the African-American population, its socioeconomic resources, and mobilization efforts to elect representatives and promote a unified policy agenda. External factors include the availability of allies to assist in the formation of a challenging coalition and African Americans’ subsequent position in the coalition; the strength, stability, and practices of the dominant governing coalition; and pressures from the court system or federal government mandates. This chapter examines the efficacy of these variables alongside the experiences of African Americans in Prince George’s County as presented in the preceding chapters.

POPULATION SIZE The population of Prince George’s County, Maryland, has undergone a significant transformation. In 1970, African Americans were 14 percent of the population. By 1990, the African-American population had risen to 52 percent of the total population. Increases in the African-American population, although having an impact on their representation on policy-making bodies, have not resulted in representation commensurate to the proportion of African Americans within the population. For example, in 1970, although African Americans comprised 14 percent of the population, they only held 4 percent of the county’s key elected offices. By 1980, the African-American population had grown to 37 percent of the total population, yet African Americans held only 12 percent of the county’s major elected offices. Similarly, in 1990, African Americans comprised 52 percent of the population, however, they held only 26 percent of the county’s key elected offices. As the first county-wide election, held under the 1990 redistricting plan, the 1992 elections offered tremendous promise for a significant increase in the number of African-American elected officials. The plan resulted in a new

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

132

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

African-American Suburb Political Incorporation

133

U.S. congressional district, one minority county district, and four AfricanAmerican majority county districts. In 1992, African-American congressional candidate Albert Wynn won the newly carved out U.S. congressional seat. The 1992 election and subsequent appointments prior to the 1994 election resulted in four African Americans on the nine-member board of education, two African Americans on the county council, and nine African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. The gains that occurred between the 1992 and 1994 election brought the proportion of African-American offices to 30 percent. In 1994, African Americans won all four newly drawn African-American county council seats and retained their four seats on the board of education. In addition, the number of African Americans in the county’s delegation to the state legislature rose from nine to eleven, and Wayne Curry became Prince George’s County’s first African-American county executive. The 1994 election brought the proportion of African-American offices held to 38 percent, however, this was significantly lower than the proportion of African Americans in the population, at 52 percent. More than any other impact, African-American population size in Prince George’s County has had a tremendous impact on white population in the county. Despite the fact that the African Americans who moved to Prince George’s County were by and large affluent in comparison to their cohorts in other jurisdictions, considerable white flight occurred as African Americans moved in. As the African-American population has increased, the dominant coalition has been more amenable to the concerns of the African-American community, albeit after intense protest and lobbying. Initially, the growing African-American population served to break the stalemate between liberal and conservative forces within the Democratic Party in Prince George’s County. To this extent, alliances between liberal whites and the African-American population were more about gaining hegemony in the party organization than the resulting ideology. Evidence of this was manifested in the liberal element’s tendency to promote African Americans who did not have the support of key African-American leaders in the county. Once liberal whites had successfully overthrown the conservative wing of the party, intra-party divisions emerged, which in turn divided AfricanAmerican candidates into two distinct camps. Again, these divisions were less the result of ideology or particular policy positions and more the result of personalities. Though divided, African-American representation increased as their population increased, albeit not as equal members in the dominant governing coalition but rather as junior members under the leadership of the two dominant leaders in the party—Parris Glendening and Peter O’Malley.

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

133

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

134


This book does not support the claims of Keech (1968) and Button (1989) regarding a curvilinear relationship between African-American population size and gains made in the public sector. Contrary to these authors’ claims, as African Americans have increased their population in Prince George’s County, African-American public-sector employment and appointments have correspondingly increased. Similarly, as African Americans have increased their population, they have simultaneously achieved greater (albeit, partial) membership within the dominant governing coalition and have focused greater attention on issues affecting them.

THE IMPACT OF SOCIOECONOMIC RESOURCES The African-American community in Prince George’s County represents one of the largest concentrations of African-American affluence in the country. The socioeconomic characteristics of African Americans in Prince George’s County far outdistanced those of African Americans in the United States, the State of Maryland, and the City of Baltimore. The median African-American family income in Prince George’s County in 1989, at $45,198, was more than double the median African-American family income in the United States, at $22,429. Similarly disparate, the proportion of African-American high school graduates in Prince George’s County’s population, at 83 percent, was 20 percentage points higher than the rate of African-American high school graduates in the United States, at 63 percent. Although African Americans in Prince George’s County collectively represent an affluent population, socioeconomic diversity does in fact exist within the African-American community. African Americans in Prince George’s County represent two diverse subpopulations. Economic diversity also influences residential patterns. Affluent African Americans live in integrated neighborhoods outside of the Capital Beltway, while poorer and less affluent African Americans reside in areas close to the Washington, D.C./Prince George’s County border. The socioeconomic diversity of African-American Prince Georgians, and its resulting residential pattern, has had a tremendous impact on the level of policy cohesiveness that exists among African Americans in the educational policy arena. School integration has been a salient issue for the past three decades in Prince George’s County. In addition to being a controversial and divisive issue between African Americans and whites, it also has been a contentious issue within the African-American community. In the African-American community, proponents and advocates of school integration and busing generally have been split along socioeconomic and

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

134

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


135

geographical lines. Those African Americans living in integrated communities have been particularly vocal about their desire to curb busing, and they have held positions similar to whites. On the other hand, those African Americans who live in more segregated communities have viewed busing as the best option for providing their children with an adequate education. The socioeconomic diversity of Prince George’s County’s African-American population also has at times had an impact on how particular AfricanAmerican candidates were perceived, and the socioeconomic makeup of their constituency. The first major African-American electoral division in Prince George’s County involved the candidacies of Tommie Broadwater and Arthur King. In the 1974 state senate race, Broadwater was perceived as the lowbrow candidate of the poor and uneducated, while King was billed as the highbrow, middle-class intellectual. These characteristics have been prevalent in other electoral races throughout the period of study. African-American elected officials also have been quick to note in many instances that their AfricanAmerican constituency had the same policy objectives and goals as whites. Although socioeconomic diversity has had an impact on the AfricanAmerican community, it has not had an impact on the attitudes of whites. As indicated, similar to urban jurisdictions with increasing African-American populations, considerable white flight has occurred within suburban Prince George’s County. Therefore, while many African-American elected officials assert that their African-American constituents have interests similar to their white counterparts, whites have not seemingly appreciated these distinctions. As it relates to the literature, socioeconomic resources are said to determine the ability to assemble political resources, also impacting the level of receptivity that members of the governing coalition may have toward emerging group members. In Prince George’s County, both assertions hold true. Early on, liberal whites within the governing coalition chose African Americans based on their ability to bring out the vote. Tommie Broadwater, for example, was consistent, with few exceptions, in his ability to deliver the vote to the Democratic Party structure. In return, he was able to advance appointments and electoral support for other African Americans. Broadwater’s ability to deliver the vote was, however, different from what Clarence Stone found in Atlanta. Rather than avoid poorer segments of the African-American population, coalition members embraced them. Simultaneously, they eschewed and diminished the strength of middle-class, AfricanAmerican civic activists and clergy who were initially bent on building their own African-American power base within the county. As politics evolved in the county, however, leading liberal power brokers together embraced alliances with African-American candidates of both classes.

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

135

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

136


THE IMPACT OF GROUP ORGANIZATIONAL RESOURCES African Americans in Prince George’s County have involved themselves in many mobilization efforts designed to increase African-American representation. The most significant efforts were the 1984 mobilization for Jesse Jackson’s presidential primary and the 1986 effort to place an African-American on the county’s main slate for county-wide office. These two efforts, more than any other that occurred between 1970 and 1994, exemplified the African-American community’s ability to unify previously estranged African-American elected officials and community activists. In 1984, Jackson received a significant 43 percent of the vote in the Prince George’s 1984 Democratic primary. The 1986 effort to place an African-American on the county’s main slate for county-wide office resulted in the election of Alexander Williams as the county’s first African-American state’s attorney. The analyses in Chapters 4 and 5 point to the significance of mobilization. When African Americans were effectively mobilized in their objective to increase African-American representation, they usually were successful. When they could not reach a consensus, the outcome was typically more favorable to the interests of the governing coalition. Similarities occurred in the appointment of African Americans to key positions. A consensus over appointments, however, occurred more frequently than in the electoral arena. In education, the results were the same—when African Americans were in agreement in their objectives and goals, the outcome was likely to be favorable. Disunity, on the other hand, resulted in unfavorable outcomes, or instances where the stalemate was broken by the dominant governing coalition or external pressures from the court system or federal government.

GOVERNING COALITION STRENGTH, STABILITY, AND PRACTICE An alliance between African Americans and the more liberal whites in the Democratic Party organization was quite successful in overthrowing the conservative Sasscer organization. Despite its success in defeating Sasscer’s organization, and the subsequent inclusion of the African-American community into the local political process, the resulting and continuing association with the new dominant coalition has had some, perhaps unintended, consequences on African-American political incorporation. The mobilization efforts of African-American community activists and leaders were thwarted early on by the dominant coalition and by the political ambitions of African-American candidates. For example, although members

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

136

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


137

of the Black Ad Hoc Committee, an organization designed to unify and run African-American candidates for political office, supported the 1974 candidacy of Arthur King for a state senate seat, influential members of the Democratic Party organization supported the candidacy of Tommie Broadwater. According to African-American community leaders, the Democratic Party structure’s support for Broadwater was a blatant attempt to divide the African-American community. They also viewed it as an attempt to select an African-American political leader who was amenable to their own interests rather than those of the African-American community. As discussed in Chapter 4, many African-American community leaders viewed Arthur King as an independent and a community-minded candidate, in contrast to Broadwater, who was perceived as a pawn of the white political establishment. Broadwater was nonetheless instrumental in obtaining support for African-American candidates for election and key appointments. The varying perceptions of King and Broadwater, however, unwittingly laid the foundation for the evolution of African-American politics in Prince George’s County. African-American politics in suburban Prince George’s County in many respects mirrors African-American politics in the city, albeit Prince George’s County has more affluent African Americans. This is true particularly as it relates to promoting a unified set of candidates and setting forth a unified policy agenda. While it is difficult to project whether socioeconomic unity alone within the African-American community would have facilitated mobilization and agreement on policy, it is safe to say that the practices of the governing coalition have nonetheless contributed to divisions. Nevertheless, the African-American community’s consistent support for the main Democratic Party slate and African-American candidates who seek and maintain alliances with the Democratic Party organization act as coconspirators to persistent political divisions within the African-American community. Throughout the period of study, African-American officials maintained ties to the Democratic Party organization, even when their association pitted them against one another. African-American officials who were interviewed for this book acknowledged that most African-American officials fell into one of the two camps within the Democratic Party organization. They also asserted that this has, in essence, hampered trust and unity among African-American officials. Had there been greater unity among white party leaders, particularly Mike Miller and Parris Glendening, African Americans may not have made the gains that they made. On the other hand, however, the existence of a party organization that was more resistant to sharing power may have provided the African-American community with the necessary impetus for greater mobilization and unity.

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

137

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

138


EXTERNAL PRESSURES External pressures from the court system have significantly impacted education policy in suburban Prince George’s County. Court mandates in 1972 and 1985 afforded African-American school-age children resources and opportunities that they otherwise would not have obtained. Although the impact of these resources is questionable, the important point is that the court system proved to be a valuable resource. The court and federal government also were instrumental in the electoral arena and in increasing public-sector employment. The 1986 Thornburg v. Gingles case provided African Americans the ability to draw additional majority African-American districts in the 1990 redistricting process. In 1976, the U.S. Justice Department filed suit, charging that the county’s police department discriminated against African Americans in hiring. Although both efforts followed intense pressure from the African-American community, they nonetheless facilitated change.

THE IMPACT OF COALITIONS Browning, Marshall, and Tabb (1984) maintain that liberal biracial alliances provide the strongest form of minority political incorporation. The conditions for a liberal and biracial coalition, although present, did not result in equal partnership between liberal whites and African Americans. African-American alliances with the more liberal element of the governing coalition were successful in overthrowing the conservative Sasscer organization, however, liberal whites maintained control until African Americans neared a majority of the population in the county. Similar to Clarence Stone’s (1989) findings in Atlanta, the biracial alliances established in Prince George’s County were based less on ideology than on the ability of African-American allies to bring something to the table, namely, African-American votes. To this extent, the development of biracial alliances in Prince George’s County was based upon the interests of white leaders in breaking the stalemate between existing factions, and their desire to acquire hegemony within the Democratic Party organization. In their support of biracial coalitions, Browning, Marshall, and Tabb do not take into consideration that other factors, namely, the interests and changing priorities of coalition members, may impede the level of AfricanAmerican political incorporation acquired in a biracial alliance. But more significant, the Browning, Marshall, and Tabb model is narrow in its description of factors significant to minority political incorporation. Although their model acknowledges the significance of African-American mobiliza-

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

138

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


139

tion, it does not take into account socioeconomic diversity within the African-American community. In Prince George’s County, biracial coalitions undermined the AfricanAmerican community’s ability to mobilize effectively and contributed to greater disunity within the African-American community. Simultaneously, this strengthened the influence of white coalition members. Although African Americans were able to penetrate the governing coalition as a result of divisions within the Democratic Party structure, penetration resulted in increased African-American representation at a snail’s pace, without appreciable policy influence.

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS OF POLITICAL INCORPORATION This book supports the claims advanced by Mack H. Jones (1978) and Bachrach and Baratz (1970). It clearly shows that there is a distinction between African-American political incorporation (the ability to advance one’s interests through the political process) and an association with those who have political power. It also makes a distinction between participating in the decision process and actually influencing the decisions made in the decisionmaking process. Browning, Marshall, and Tabb assert that political incorporation entails “control of local legislation, programs, spending, governmental structure, and governmental personnel . . . over an extended period of time.” Therefore, mere representation, while essential, does not guarantee political incorporation. Instead, there needs to be some evidence that African Americans are afforded substantial influence or control over policy.1 Increased African-American representation did not translate into African-American policy influence in Prince George’s County. Although representation serves as an effective stepping-stone toward political incorporation, other factors also are pertinent. In Prince George’s County, African-American demands posed considerable threat to the hegemony of the governing coalition and the interests of the white community. Mobilization efforts in the African-American community were explicit attempts to gain more influence in the policy- and appointment-making process. Further, African-American demands (mainly leveled through the court system) for integrated education were explicit attempts to gain access to greater educational resources and opportunities for AfricanAmerican school-age children. In Prince George’s County, African-American demands were met with considerable hostility, which was manifest in a variety of ways. For one, as

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

139

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

140


mentioned, the governing coalition utilized divide-and-conquer strategies to undermine African-American mobilization efforts. Second, the board of education and its administrators resisted change until it was forced upon them by the court system. Even then, however, there were constant attempts to modify court mandates through appeals and challenges to the court’s orders. Finally, the white community responded with its feet. Between the 1970s and 1990s the white population in Prince George’s County declined significantly. White flight from Prince George’s County was similar to white flight from inner cities and can be attributed to increases in the African-American population and the battle over school integration. The level of success accorded to the strategies utilized by the established political organization is dependent upon a number of factors, namely, the strength, stability, and unity of the organization. V.O. Key’s (1949) description of one-party politics is pertinent to the Prince George’s County case. Consistent with Key’s claim, one-party dominance in Prince George’s County resulted in disunity and factionalism. African Americans served to break the stalemate between opposing factions. In return, the African-American community received token concessions, however, it was not promoted to equal partnership within the governing coalition until it was able to win it on its own. Even more significant, as mentioned, alliances between white and African-American leaders undermined the level of unity within the AfricanAmerican community. To this extent, although the established organization was divided, it was able to retain considerable power and influence. As Key notes, factions are less the result of issue conflicts and more the result of voter grouping, composition of leadership (essentially personalities), or localism.2 Consistent with Key’s assertion, the Mike Miller and Parris Glendening division within the Democratic Party structure was based less on issues or ideology and more on personalities and their desire to elevate their respective power bases. The lack of issue articulation eliminated a potential platform to advance African-American interests. Thus although African Americans were able to infiltrate the party structure, it essentially became a hollow prize, in that it did not offer an adequate vehicle for expressing their interests.

AFRICAN-AMERICAN ELECTED OFFICIALS The literature relating to the benefits and shortcomings of African-American elected officials all has relevance in the case of Prince George’s County. As noted, the weaknesses of African-American officials in the county, to some extent, can be attributed to the socioeconomic diversity existing within the African-American community. In particular, gaps in the socioeconomic status

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

140

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


141

of African Americans in Prince George’s County thwarted candidate as well as issue consensus. Consistent with the literature, African-American officials have facilitated increased African-American public employment, appointments to policymaking boards, and the election of other African Americans. In addition, their representation on policy-making bodies has had a positive impact on the ability to garner support for African-American interests from white cohorts. This is particularly true in the case of Tommie Broadwater’s early efforts. African-American representation on the inside also has been an effective conduit for political input from African-American citizens. The AfricanAmerican elected officials interviewed for this book cited several AfricanAmerican elected and appointed officials who were influential in filling vacancies and advising white officials on issues relevant to the African-American community’s interests. The problem, however, was that there was rarely unity regarding the filling of vacancies or the positions taken by white officials. Thus while they were on the inside, they were largely unable to provide a distinct AfricanAmerican community view, because there was not one as it related to candidate choice or education policy. On the other hand, African-American officials in Prince George’s County, Maryland, often have thwarted African-American community unity by allying themselves with members of the governing coalition and modifying their demands in order to maintain the support of dominant white actors. Thus while African-American elected officials have provided certain benefits to the African-American community, they also have been co-conspirators in African Americans’ inability to achieve proportional representation.

CONCLUSION: TOWARD A THEORY OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN SUBURBAN POLITICAL INCORPORATION The most significant outcome of this study relates to its ability to exhibit the complex factors associated with African-American political incorporation. As this research has shown, factors that are internal and external to the AfricanAmerican community impact on the level of political incorporation that can be achieved. As indicated, the Prince George’s County case shows that the quest for full African-American suburban political incorporation has been thwarted by a number of factors. These factors include socioeconomic diversity—socioeconomic resources, ineffective mobilization efforts, a disunified policy agenda—group organizational resources, and the effective divide-andconquer strategies of the white-controlled political organization—governing

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

141

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

142


coalition, strength, stability, and practices. Thus while population size and external pressures from the court system have facilitated the quest for political incorporation, other factors have frustrated the goal. This case study has pointed to the impediments to African-American suburban political incorporation. It also has shown how all of the aforementioned factors have essentially resulted in the co-optation and partial political incorporation of African Americans in Prince George’s County. The strength of the model rests in its applicability across various jurisdictions. In many instances, the factors that have influenced African-American politics in suburban Prince George’s County are present in urban environments, as well as in the scope of national politics.

IMPLICATIONS As African Americans continue to move to suburban jurisdictions, elected officials and community leaders, both African-American and white, will increasingly face the dilemmas reflected in this book. African Americans with diverse socioeconomic characteristics will more than likely possess divergent goals on a variety of policy issues, particularly in the educational policy arena. As a result, it will be difficult to advance a policy that reflects the interests of the whole community. There are, however, numerous policy areas that impact on the entire African-American community. Therefore, while the African-American community is not a monolith, some perennial challenges face all members of the African-American community. These issues relate to civil rights and the continuing dilemma of systemic racism, as manifested through practices such as racial profiling and redlining. These types of issues distinguish the need for greater consensus, over and above that required within the white population. The challenge will be to maintain intra-group alliances that facilitate the resolution of these types of issues. The practices and motivations of the governing coalition will be equally challenging. Increasingly, governing officials in suburban jurisdictions will encounter challenges as they seek to fulfill the diverse needs and demands of a growing African-American population. Although challenging, a more equitable arrangement can be obtained if suburban leaders and residents come to grips with the realities of increased African-American suburban migration rather than, in the case of Prince George’s County, run from it or resist it. African-American political incorporation in suburban jurisdictions is complex at best. Internal and external factors merge to create a variety of

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

142

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


143

possibilities. Full African-American political incorporation is predicated upon creating intra- and inter-group alliances that seek to advance the needs of the whole community, while taking into account diverse needs. As is the case elsewhere, a suburban community is only as strong as its weakest link.

32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

143

8/13/02, 9:36 PM


32903_SP_JOH_CH07_131-144

144

8/13/02, 9:36 PM

Chapter Eight

A Tale of Two Counties— Present and Past, Affluent and Poor

Prince George’s County, Maryland, has received considerable attention for its distinction as having the largest concentration of African-American affluence in the nation, and for its twenty-five-year school desegregation battle. Media pundits across the nation have marveled at its transition from a predominantly white suburban enclave of the nation’s capital to its current status as a premier majority African-American suburb. In 1999, seven of the nation’s ten most affluent African-American communities were in Prince George’s County.1 The story of its transition and current status is, however, far more complex than initially meets the eye, borne of decades of African-American struggle. Although unique in its concentration of African-American wealth, it also is home to a large proportion of the region’s poor, second only to Washington, D.C. This chapter fills in the seven-year period since the county elected Wayne Curry, its first African-American county executive, and examines some of the challenges facing the county in the new millennium. Key to this examination will be a survey of the county’s socioeconomic and political trends, the outcome of its twenty-five-year desegregation order, and African Americans’ thirty-year quest for political incorporation.

POPULATION TRENDS As the millennium began, African Americans in Prince George’s County occupied a large share of the county’s top posts. Wayne Curry, the county’s 145

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

145

8/13/02, 9:37 PM

146

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

Figure 8.1 African-American and White Population Trends (1970–2000) 90 ■ 85 80

146

70

■ 58

% White Pop.

■ 43 40

◆

◆ ■

37

30

■ 27

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

20 ◆ 14 10 0 1970

1980

1990

2000

TWO COUNTIES

50

OF

% Black Pop. ◆ 52

A TALE

◆ 63 60

A Tale of Two Counties

147

first African-American county executive was in his second term, the county state’s attorney, Jack Johnson, was African American; the county sheriff, Alonzo Black, was African American; and the school superintendent, Iris Metts, was the second African-American to hold the post. In addition, African Americans comprised four of the nine members on the county council, five of the nine-member board of education, and thirteen of the twenty-nine members in the county’s delegation to the state legislature. The success of African Americans in obtaining chief positions in the county can be attributed largely to the changes in the population over the last three decades. In 1970, African Americans comprised 14 percent of Prince George’s County’s total population (see Figure 8.1). By 1990, African Americans comprised a majority of the population, or 52 percent. Throughout the 1990s, the growth trend continued, with African Americans comprising 63 percent of the county’s total population in 2000 (801,515). In addition to being a predominantly African-American suburb, Prince George’s County has the highest proportion of minorities than any other jurisdiction in the state (75.7 percent). A significant proportion of the population shift has resulted from an in-migration of African Americans from Washington, D.C., and from the simultaneous out-migration of whites to other suburbs in the region. During the 1970s, the white population decreased by 30 percent. In the 1980s, the white population declined by 21 percent, seemingly abating the previous trend. However, through the 1990s, white flight increased once more, diminishing the white population by 31 percent (see Table 8.1). In urban areas, the out-migration of whites typically has spelled economic doom, however, Prince George’s county is “one of few jurisdictions in America that over the past 20 years has become more affluent as it became African American.”2 Nonetheless, Prince George’s County has inherited problems associated with its shared border with the poorest section of Washington, D.C. As Table 8.1 African-American/White Population Trends Prince George’s County (1970–2000) Years

White

% Change

1970 1980 1990 2000

561,482 393,550 314,616 216,729

73.0 –30.0 –20.0 –31.1

African % of Total American 85.0 58.4 43.0 27.0

85,873 247,888 369,791 502,550

% Change 177.1 188.7 49.0 35.9

% of Total 14.0 37.0 52.0 62.7

SOURCE: Bureau of the Census; Census of the Population: Composition of the Population of Counties: 1970, 1980, 1990 & 2000 reports.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

147

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

148

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES

poorer African Americans have moved into the county, middle-class African Americans, like whites, have begun their trek to outer suburban communities. The population of Charles County, an outer-tier Washington, D.C., suburb, increased by 19,000 during the 1990s. African Americans accounted for 70 percent of this increase.3 Much of the loss of middle-class African Americans can be attributed to its school system, which now struggles with problems typically associated with resource-strapped urban districts.

EDUCATION On September 1, 1998, Prince George’s County’s twenty-five years of courtordered busing ended, and a new system of neighborhood schools was introduced. Although initially heralded as a turning point, the transition has been gradual, as the system has scrambled to build new schools and renovate older ones to diminish overcrowding. The Capital Beltway (Interstate 95/495) has long been the dividing line between predominantly African-American communities bordering Washington, D.C., and more integrated communities further into the county. After the implementation of the 1972 desegregation order, dozens of schools in inner Beltway communities were closed as African-American students were bused to predominantly white schools further into the county. Now that court-ordered busing has ended, new schools must be built to replace the ones that closed. Figures 8.2–8.5 depict the thirty-year dispersion of African Americans into outer Beltway communities. In 1970, there were few outer Beltway communities where the African-American population exceeded 50 percent. By 2000, more than half of all outer Beltway communities had African-American populations over the 50 percent mark, and nearly one-fourth was between 75 percent and 100 percent African American. The neighborhood school transition originally called for thirteen new schools to be built over a six-year period. However, County Executive Wayne Curry quickly added thirteen additional schools to the plan. By May 2001, four schools had been built and opened, and construction had begun on eight more. Curry plans to build the remaining fourteen schools by the time he leaves office at the end of 2002.4 Building the new schools is imperative to relieving overcrowding and accommodating new-home construction. Under county regulations, if a school that is in proximity to a proposed development is at more than 130 percent capacity, the development is halted for four years. County projections in January 2001 indicated that developments would be halted near thirty-three schools as a result of expected overcrowding.5

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

148

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


149

Figure 8.2 Percent African American for Prince George’s County—1970 (Based on 1970–2000 Census Tract Equivalency Areas)

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

149

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

150

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES


32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

150

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


151


32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

151

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

152

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES


32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

152

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


153

In 1973, when the court-ordered desegregation plan began, Prince George’s County schools were 75 percent white. In 1998, at the end of the plan, the system had been dramatically transformed, with African-American students comprising nearly 75 percent of the total student population. By 2000, African-American students made up 77.2 percent of the 131,059-student school system, making it the largest African-American student population in the Maryland and Virginia suburbs, second only to Washington, D.C., in the metropolitan area. On the other end of the spectrum, the school district was 12.7 percent white and had the second-lowest percentage of white students in the region, after Washington, D.C. In 1990, more than one-quarter of the county’s adults over age twentyfive had a bachelor’s degree or higher, and more than 83 percent had graduated from high school. Despite relatively high education attainment, the Prince George’s County school system has been faltering, ranking second from the bottom across the state, only ahead of Baltimore. In 1998, at the end of court-ordered busing, student performance on the state’s key test had dropped three years in a row, nine of the county’s then181 schools had been threatened with state takeover, sixteen were on a countyimposed “alert status” tied to their performance, and six were undergoing restructuring to avoid state action.6 Also in 1998, only 32 percent of the county’s students scored satisfactory or better on the Maryland School Performance Assessment Program (MSPAP), with white students outdistancing African Americans by wide margins. Thirtyeight percent and 47 percent of white male and female students, respectively, scored satisfactory or better, compared to 16 percent and 26 percent of African-American males and females. Consistently between 1995 and 2000, Prince George’s County schools scored less than half of the 70 percent score that the state board of education established as a satisfactory standard for the MSPAP. Although the school system as a whole has done poorly, African-American students have consistently scored lower, posting scores nearly one-half below the scores of white students. Although African Americans in Prince George’s County rank higher than African Americans nationally on all socioeconomic indicators, they rank lower on national achievement tests. In 2000, the combined average Standard Achievement Test (SAT) score for African-American students in Prince George’s County was 845, compared to 860 for African-American students nationally. In the same year, the combined SAT score for AfricanAmerican students in Prince George’s County was thirty points below the average score for Hispanic students and 227 points lower than the average score for white students.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

153

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

154

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES

By 2001, fifteen Prince George’s County schools were among the 102 schools on Maryland’s list for state takeover. Of all Maryland school districts, only Baltimore, with eighty-six schools on the list, had more failing schools. In May 2001, two years into African-American school Superintendent Iris Metts’ administration, only 34 percent of county schools scored above the national average on the Comprehensive Test of Basic Skills (CTBS). Although low, the score represented a 21 percent increase over the previous year’s scores. School administrators have been at a loss to explain the poor test results of African-American students. In 1998, however, the then-board of education chairman, Alvin Thornton, sought an investigation of the MSPAP, arguing that the test was possibly culturally biased. Although African-American students in Prince George’s County had among the state’s lowest scores, gaps between African-American and white students have been consistent in all counties across the state. Perhaps the largest challenge to the district schools has been TRIM (Tax Reform Initiative by Marylanders). Since its implementation in 1978, the tax cap measure has crippled Prince George’s County’s ability to raise adequate funds for its schools. One year after the passage of TRIM, then-County Executive Lawrence Hogan requested that the school board reduce its budget by $13 million. By 1998, the district faced a critical shortage of textbooks in one-quarter of its schools. Prior to the shortage, school officials had unsuccessfully sought to transfer money from the textbook and instructional materials budget to pay salaries.7 In the 2001–02 school year, Superintendent Metts faced a $36 million budget shortfall. Proposed cuts to the system’s budget included eliminating seventy-five high school teachers and scrapping plans to reduce class sizes and to hire new guidance counselors in the high schools.8 In addition to its tax revenue cap, Prince George’s County has the lowest average house sale price in the Washington metropolitan area. In 2000, the average house sale price in Prince George’s County was $139,968, compared to $253,876 and $250,445 in Montgomery County and Washington, D.C., respectively.9 House values and the tax cap have kept per pupil expenditures in Prince George’s County low, relative to other Maryland school districts. During the 1977–78 school year, the year TRIM was implemented, Prince George’s County ranked third among the twenty-four school districts in the state in per pupil expenditures. In 1998, it ranked thirteen, despite being the largest school district in the state at the time. By 2001, tax limits had kept per pupil expenditures in Prince George’s County approximately 30 percent lower than nearby higher-achieving districts.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

154

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


155

In 1998, Prince George’s County’s average teacher salary was the lowest among neighboring counties. At $40,089, the county ranked ninth in the state, compared to Montgomery County in first place, at $49,342.10 After a 6.4 percent raise in 2000, teachers’ salaries in Prince George’s County continued to lag behind Montgomery County teachers’ salaries by as much as $7,000.11 As a result of lower teacher salaries, the county frequently loses its teachers to higher-paying districts. Between 1993 and 1998, the system lost approximately 12 percent of its new teachers after their first year and an additional 7 percent after their second year. During the 1996–97 school year, 12.8 percent of Prince George’s County teachers worked on provisional certificates, more than any other district in the state. By the next school year (1997–98), that proportion had increased to 15 percent.12 In 1997, Washington, D.C., and Prince George’s County had 32 percent of the region’s public school students but 55 percent of the region’s lowincome students and 62 percent of the regions African-American and Hispanic elementary school students.13 Escalating enrollments are another problem that has strained the district’s resources. In 1993, the district had 113,132 students. By 2000, enrollment had climbed to 131,059, a nearly 20 percent increase. A significant portion of the increase is comprised of poorer students who have moved into the district from Washington, D.C. In 2001, 45 percent of Prince George’s County students qualified for free or reduced lunch (a measure of poverty), compared to 39.7 percent in 1995.14 The post–desegregation plan has maintained the systems Magnet schools, continued to provide compensatory support to schools with racially nondiverse student populations, and imposed tough accountability measures for progress on academic indicators. Nonetheless, middle-class African Americans are becoming disenchanted with the school system in particular and with Prince George’s County’s socioeconomic conditions in general.

SOCIOECONOMIC CONDITIONS In 1994, when Wayne Curry was elected county executive, Prince George’s County had a $137 million deficit. In short order, Curry was able to satisfy the debt and bring several economic development projects to the county. Nonetheless, Prince George’s County has been unable to shed its shared status with Washington, D.C., as the poorest jurisdictions in the region. According to the Brookings Institution report, “A Region Divided” (1999), the Washington, D.C., region is divided by race, income, jobs, and opportunity, with the District and Prince George’s County sharing the largest portion

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

155

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

156

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES

of the low-income burden. Although in 2000 Prince George’s County had retained its standing as having the largest concentration of African-American affluence in the nation, it nonetheless had a significantly poor African-American population. In a nutshell, Prince George’s County is a bimodal county, with two distinctively different populations of African Americans. The county’s socioeconomic characteristics in the 1990s illustrate the following: • Between 1990 and 1996, the proportion of Prince Georgians in poverty declined by 47 percent to 2.8 percent of the total population. Despite declining poverty rates, mainly attributed to the wealth in the county, Prince George’s County was second only to the District in the share of the region’s welfare caseload, at 14.9 percent and 63.8 percent, respectively. • In 1996, Prince George’s County bore the second-largest proportion of single-parent households in the region, at 12.7 percent. Together, Prince George’s County and the District comprised 48 percent of the region’s single-parent households. • In 1996, 44.6 percent of Prince George’s County households had incomes of $50,000 or more, ranking the third lowest in the region behind Washington, D.C., and Alexandria, at 30 percent and 43.6 percent, respectively.15 As noted in the Brookings Institution report, the consequences of poor neighborhoods with high costs, low services, and poor performing schools are an out-migration of families with resources to the outer communities in the region. Although this pattern is not new and characterizes migration patterns nationally, the stark reality of these characteristics does not bode well for Prince George’s County in the first decade of the new millennium. As more and more poor African Americans push their way into the county, largely because of its greater share of affordable housing, middle-class African Americans will likely continue their trek outward to other suburban jurisdictions in the region. According to the Greater Washington Council of Governments, Prince George’s County has assumed more of the region’s share of subsidized rental housing. In 1999, the county had “16,342 units compared to 11,513 units in Fairfax, 6,736 units in Montgomery County and 3,617 units in Prince William.”16 As poor residents from D.C. have crossed the border, Wayne Curry has called on area governments to assume a greater share of the burden. Much of the in-migration to the county is the result of massive renovation projects in the District. In the mid-1990’s the District government decided to renovate four public housing projects, bordering Prince George’s County, into moder-

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

156

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


157

ately priced rental and owner-occupied housing. As a result, approximately 25,000 African-American, mainly poor, residents left the area in the 1990s.17 Congressman Albert Wynn joins Curry in his criticism of poor AfricanAmerican in-migration from the District. Wynn is particularly displeased with developers who have built low-income rental units in inner Beltway communities.18 One cannot help but consider the irony of African-American politicians’ complaining about the in-migration of poor African Americans. But just as middle-class whites are concerned about property values and a loss of public services, so too are members of the African-American middle class. As has been the case for inner cities across the nation, middle-class African Americans, who in the 1970s primarily lived in inner Beltway communities, have migrated further into the county’s newer communities. In the process, economic deterioration has characterized conditions in the older African-American communities, as jobs have followed middle-class African Americans outward. As if to the beat of a common refrain, soaring crime rates also have taken root. Although crime ridden and economically devastated, conditions are slowly improving in inner Beltway communities as the county’s Neighborhood Revitalization Division (NRD) has funneled resources into communities bordering the District. However, as banks have been slow to lend money in inner Beltway communities, the state has had to step in to provide low-interest small business loans.19 Another issue that has been particularly acute in inner Beltway communities is police brutality. Dating back to a series of controversial beatings and shootings in the 1960s, the police department has continued its legacy of brutality. In 1995, African-American officers made up 39 percent of the police force, compared to 8 percent in 1975. In 2000, the number of AfricanAmerican police officers had increased to 41 percent, with white officers making up the larger share, at 53 percent. From 1990 to 2001, police in Prince George’s County shot 122 people, killing forty-seven. Although almost half of those shot were unarmed, police officials maintained that all of the shootings were justified. In a thirteen-month period, between 1999 and 2000, “Prince George’s police shot 12 county residents, killing five. Two others who were shot died in police custody.”20 One notable case involved the shooting death of a twentyfive-year-old African-American man, Prince Jones. But because the officer who was involved in the Jones’ incident was African American, it did not generate charges of racial bias, typical when the offending officer is white.21 Although a significant proportion of the shootings involved African-American officers, white officers nonetheless committed three-fifths of the 122 shootings.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

157

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

158

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES

Excessive force in the police department has been under federal investigation since October 2000. Racial discrimination and excessive force are chief among the charges. Nonetheless, Curry has largely escaped criticism, due to a lack of concern from middle-class, outer Beltway communities.22 Most of the victims of police shootings have been poor, and 90 percent have been African-American and Hispanic.23 Despite increased incidents, no Prince George’s County police officer had been convicted, however, the county has paid out more than $6 million in damages resulting from police misconduct.24 White Police Chief John Farrell, however, has not escaped criticism. In his own defense, Farrell claims that shootings have declined since he became chief in 1995. A Washington Post series on police brutality in the county asserts that “Prince George’s County police still shot and killed people at rates as high as four times the national average,” between 1996 and 2000.25 After the Washington Post series, the NAACP and several African-American elected officials called for a civilian review board with subpoena powers to investigate complaints. Although the series generated public concern, police brutality has not become a salient issue among Prince George’s County’s African-American middle class. Instead, poor and overcrowded schools and growing disenchantment with the county’s limited amenities have been their chief concerns. The county’s median household income, at $54,600 in 1999, is considerably lower than all counties in the Washington metropolitan area yet higher than both state and national medians. As a result, upscale department stores and restaurants have bypassed the county. Instead, the county has attracted businesses such as Payless Shoes and dollar stores.26 Without amenities commensurate to their pockets, middle-class African Americans in Prince George’s have had to shop and dine in other suburban jurisdictions. Middle-class African-American communities in suburban Dekalb County, Georgia, have complained of similar trends. Dekalb County, like Prince George’s County, also has experienced African-American class segregation and encroaching poverty. As the populations of large suburban districts such as Prince George’s and Dekalb counties have increased their African-American population, the composition of their governing coalitions has changed considerably. In 1994, Prince George’s County elected Wayne Curry as its first African-American county executive. In Dekalb County, the first African-American chief executive, Vernon Jones, was elected in 2000. Despite changes in the governing coalitions, both jurisdictions face challenges reminiscent of those faced by the nation’s first African-American mayors in the late 1960s and 1970s. Chief among them are maintaining good schools and other public services, increasing economic development, and retaining

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

158

8/13/02, 9:38 PM


159

the middle class. As the cities have struggled to hold onto their tax bases, African-American suburban executives will be equally challenged.

POLITICS When Curry was first elected to office in 1994, the county witnessed an increase in the number of African-American elected officials. Prior to the 1994 race, African Americans comprised 30 percent of the key elective offices in the county (the county council, the board of education, and the county’s delegation to the state legislature). After the election, the proportion rose to 38 percent. The 1998 elections again saw an increase in the number of African Americans elected to office. As a result of gains, African Americans represented 47 percent of the county’s key elective positions in 2000 (see Figure 8.6). Despite gains, however, African-American representation again was not commensurate to its numbers in the population, which had, by 2000, grown to 63 percent of the total population. Nonetheless, it reached a greater level of parity than it ever had. As a result of the 1998 election, African Americans comprised five of the nine members on the board of education, four of the nine-member county council, and thirteen of the county’s twenty-nine-member delegation to the state legislature. As Figure 8.6 illustrates, as the African-American population has increased, African-American representation has increased as well. Although numbers are important and point to potential trends within the electorate, the most important issue is whether African Americans have become an integral part of Prince George’s County’s policy-making coalition—or have become politically incorporated. After decades of rancor over political control, it now appears that Prince George’s County’s governing coalition is more unified than ever before. In 1999, for example, for the first time since Curry was elected seven years ago, he and the county’s state delegation to the legislature presented a unified agenda during the General Assembly session.27 For years the county’s African-American elected officials had been split under the leadership of two of the county’s leading Democrats, Senate President Mike V. Miller and former County Executive Parris Glendening. With Curry at the helm, internecine warfare among African-American elected officials has seemingly abated in recognition of the new challenges facing the county, a major one being continuing streams of state money in order to build new schools. Without new schools, development is hampered, and it subsequently threatens available resources for public services. Also, without new schools, Prince George’s County will not be able to retain its middle-class population.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

159

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

160

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

Figure 8.6 African-American Population and Elected Officials 1970–2000 (Board of Education, County Council, and County Delegation to the State Legislature)

70 160

◆ 63

A TALE

60 ◆ 52

50

◆

37

30 ■ 26 20 8/13/02, 9:38 PM

◆ 14 10

■ 12

■ 4 0 1970

1980

1990

2000

◆

% Black Population

■

% Black Elected Officials

TWO COUNTIES

40

OF

■ 47


161

Another factor that has diminished historical divisions among AfricanAmerican elected officials is term limits, which have resulted in a new crop of officials. Since 1994, for example, ten new delegates have been elected. As new elected officials replace the old, traditional cleavages will diminish. The old education policy cleavage also has disappeared, now that courtordered busing has ended. Prior to the 1998 end of the desegregation order, African Americans largely were divided between those supporting busing (inner Beltway communities) and those opposing busing (those residing in more integrated outer Beltway communities). As this cleavage has vanished within the African-American population, clear lines of demarcation among African-American elected officials have been muted. The continuing socioeconomic divide between inner and outer Beltway communities nonetheless promises to maintain class divisions among African Americans in Prince George’s County, albeit in another form. The new battle will be over community development dollars, new school placement, and public services, more generally. The only difference between this impending class battle and those carried out daily between the poor and middle classes in the inner city is that the combatants on both sides will be African Americans. As state legislative forces gear up for the decennial redistricting process, issues of race have begun to surface. In 2001, the majority of Prince George’s County’s African-American population is packed densely into three of the county’s eight legislative districts. The redistricting process will change district structure, creating new districts where blacks will likely win office. The process will have a tremendous impact on the white composition of the county’s governing coalition. Although the county is currently 75 percent minority, the twenty-nine-member county delegation to the state legislature in 2001 included thirteen African Americans, one Filipino, and fifteen whites.28 As districts are restructured, African-American representation will no doubt reach parity with the African-American population after the 2006 elections.

CONCLUSION In many ways, the election of Wayne Curry and the subsequent increase in the African-American population represent another generational transfer of power in the county. Over the past thirty-five years, the governing coalition has been considerably transformed. In the late 1960s, the governing coalition was led by the conservative Sasscer regime. In the early 1970s, African Americans assisted liberal whites to overthrow the conservative element in the Democratic Party. However, as a result of their divisions, African-American elected officials were not equal partners within the governing coalition but rather mere appendages of Democratic Party leaders.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

161

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

162

A TALE

OF

TWO COUNTIES

Since Curry’s election in 1994, another shift has taken place in the composition of the governing coalition. One of the chief reasons for this shift was the end of the county’s twenty-five-year desegregation order, which illuminated the class cleavages within the African-American community. Although the desegregation order has been lifted, considerable class cleavages remain. The key measure of complete African-American political incorporation will be based on the extent to which future county administrations will represent the needs and interests of all African Americans in the suburban county rather than the needs and interests of middle class African Americans in outer Beltway communities. African-American elected officials in suburban Prince George’s County face a challenge. Only the future will tell whether the diverse needs of the African-American community will be fully incorporated into the policy-making apparatus in the county. At this time, there are some positive indications that the county will, in fact, commit the necessary resources to the revitalization efforts currently taking place in inner Beltway communities. Although promising, these efforts may be hampered by the continuing in-migration of poor, resource-demanding African Americans from the District. In order to preserve its tax base, the administrations that follow may decide to subordinate the needs of inner Beltway communities to halt the middle-class, African-American flight that has already begun. If this occurs, full African-American political incorporation in Prince George’s County will have been sacrificed for the standard and typical partial political incorporation of the African-American middle class.

32903_SP_JOH_CH08_145-162

162

8/13/02, 9:38 PM

Appendix A

Questionnaire for African-American Community Leaders

Interviewee name_________________________________________________ Introduction: I am conducting research which examines African-American political influence in the suburbs. I am using Prince George’s County as a case study, to determine the impact that African-American migration to the suburbs has had on the structure of the governing coalition, and the ability of African Americans to initiate and implement education policy that is in the interest of the AfricanAmerican community. The time frame that my study covers is 1971–1994. Introductory Questions: First, could you describe the position(s) of leadership that you hold/have held within your organization, and the years that you served in this capacity. Position(s) __________________________ Years served _____________________ How long have you been a resident of Prince George’s County? _____________ Let me start by asking a few general questions relating to African-American representation on policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. 1) Are you able to cite any individual or organizational efforts, including your own, that were undertaken to increase African-American representation on policy-making boards? Yes ______ (cite individuals or organizations) No ______ (go to #7) 163

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

163

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

164

APPENDIX A

2) Have these efforts focused on African-American candidates in general or specific African-American candidates? General _______ (go to #4) Specific ______ Both __________ 3) What factors or candidate characteristics, other than race, have been responsible for efforts focused on some African-American candidates over others? ________________________________________________ 4) What strategies/resources did you or your organization or any of the aforementioned individuals or organizations employ to increase AfricanAmerican representation on policy-making boards? ________________ __________________________________________________________ 5) Using the following measurements, indicate how effective these efforts have been. ______ Extremely effective ______ Very effective ______ More effective than not ______ Neither effective or ineffective ______ Ineffective 6) Have there been any obstacles to increasing African-American representation on policy-making boards? Yes _______ (what were the obstacles?) No _______ Now I’d like to turn to specific questions about your organization. 7) During your position of leadership, did your organization provide significant support for any African-American electoral campaign? 8) What policy issues was your organization most concerned with during your position of leadership? ___________________________________ 9) Did you initiate any policy relating to the ___________ issue? (mention all issues cited) _____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

164

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

Appendix A

165

10) How did you go about initiating policy relating to ___________________ __________________________________________________________ 11) Who were your most supportive allies on policy initiatives relating to __________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ ? 12) Did you receive any support or opposition from white leaders for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (cite individuals who provided support or opposition) _______________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 13) Did you receive any support or opposition from African-American leaders for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (cite individuals or organizations who provided support and/or opposition) __________ __________________________________________________________ 14) Did you receive any support or opposition from the African-American community for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (mention all issue areas cited) _________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 15) What was the outcome of these policy initiatives? ________________ __________________________________________________________ The following questions relate to policy issues of importance to the AfricanAmerican community in Prince George’s County. 16) In your opinion, what issues were of greatest concern to the AfricanAmerican community during your position of leadership? (rank order) __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 17) To the best of your ability, cite any unique educational programs focusing on African-American student achievement that have been implemented in the County. ______________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 18) What organization or individual(s) initiated the ____________ program? (mention all programs cited) __________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

165

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

166

APPENDIX A

19) What organization or individual(s) supported the implementation of the _______________ program? (mention all programs cited) __________ __________________________________________________________ 20) How effective have these programs been in closing the gap between white and African-American student achievement in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely effective (go to #22) ______ Very effective (go to #22) ______ More effective than not (go to #22) ______ Neither effective or ineffective ______ Ineffective 21) What have been the obstacles to closing the gaps between white and African-American student achievement? _________________________ __________________________________________________________ The following questions relate to the level of informal influence yielded by African Americans in Prince George’s County. 22) In ranking order name any African-American individuals who in your opinion were/are influential and often consulted regarding issues relating to education policy in Prince George’s County (during your position of leadership). ________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 23) Using the following measurements, how often were the recommendations of these individuals taken into account in final decisions? _______ Always _______ Very often _______ Most often than not _______ Never 24) How successful have these individuals been in getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? (mention all individuals cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #26) ______ Very successful (go to #26) ______ More successful than not (go to #26)

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

166

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

Appendix A

167

______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 25) What obstacles have they faced to getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? _______________________________ __________________________________________________________ 26) In ranking order name any African-American civic, political, or religious organizations that in your opinion are influential and often consulted regarding issues relating to education policy in Prince George’s County. __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 27) How successful have these organization been in getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? (mention all organizations cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #29) ______ Very successful (go to #29) ______ More successful than not (go to #29) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 28) What obstacles have they faced to getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? _______________________________ __________________________________________________________ 29) How willing have these organizations been to work together on issues of common interest? ______ Extremely willing (go to #31) ______ Very willing (go to #31) ______ More willing than not (go to #31) ______ Willing to work with some organizations and not with others ______ Unwilling (go to #31) 30) Why were they willing to work with some organizations and not others? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

167

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

168

APPENDIX A

31) In ranking order name any African-American individuals who in your estimation are influential and often consulted regarding the appointment of African Americans to policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 32) How successful have these individuals been in getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? (mention all individuals cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #34) ______ Very successful (go to #34) ______ More successful than not (go to #34) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 33) What obstacles have they faced to getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? ___________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 34) In ranking order name any African-American civic, religious, or political organizations that in your opinion are influential and often consulted regarding the appointment of African Americans to policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. ______________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 35) How successful have these organizations been in getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? (mention all organizations cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #37) ______ Very successful (go to #37) ______ More successful than not (go to #37) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 36) What obstacles have they faced to getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? ___________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

168

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

Appendix A

169

The following questions relate to the white communities’ willingness to share power with African Americans in county affairs. 37) During your position of leadership, how willing was the white community to share power with the African-American community in county affairs? ______ Extremely willing (go to #39) ______ Very willing (go to #39) ______ More willing than not (go to #39) ______ Willing to share power with some sectors of the African-American community and not with other sectors ______ Unwilling (go to #39) 38) Why were they willing to share power with some sectors of the AfricanAmerican community and not others? __________________________ __________________________________________________________ 39) During your position of leadership, how willing were white elected officials to share power with the African-American community in county affairs? ______ Extremely willing (go to #41) ______ Very willing (go to #41) ______ More willing than not (go to #41) ______ Willing with some sectors of the African American community and unwilling of other sectors ______ Unwilling (go to #41) 40) Why were they willing to share power with some sectors of the AfricanAmerican community and not others? __________________________ __________________________________________________________ 41) During your position of leadership, how supportive was the white community of African-American candidates running for elective office in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #43) ______ Very supportive (go to #43) ______ More supportive than not (go to #43)

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

169

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

170

APPENDIX A

______ Supportive of some African-American candidates and resistant to others ______ Resistant (go to #43) 42) Why did they support some African-American candidates but not others? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 43) How supportive were white elected officials of African-American candidates seeking elective office in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #45) ______ Very supportive (go to #45) ______ More supportive than not (go to #45) ______ Supportive of some African-American candidates and resistant to others ______ Resistant (go to #45) 44) Why did they support some African-American candidates but not others? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ The final set of questions relates to the level of cohesiveness within the African-American community. 45) During your position of leadership, how cohesive was the AfricanAmerican community on issues relating to education policy? ______ Extremely cohesive (go to #47) ______ Very cohesive (go to #47) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #47) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #47) ______ Uncohesive 46) What specific factors contributed to disunity withinthe African-American community? ____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 47) During your position of leadership, how cohesive was the AfricanAmerican community as it relates to increasing African-American representation on policy-making boards?

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

170

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

Appendix A

171

______ Extremely cohesive (go to #49) ______ Very cohesive (go to #49) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #49) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #49) ______ Uncohesive 48) What specific factors contributed to disunity within the African-American community? ________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 49) During your position of leadership, how cohesive were African-American leaders as it relates to increasing African-American representation on policy-making board? ______ Extremely cohesive (go to #52) ______ Very cohesive (go to #52) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #52) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #52) ______ Uncohesive 50) What specific factors contributed to disunity amongst African-American leaders? ___________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 51) What if any effect did their disunity have on increasing African-American representation on policy-making boards? ________________________ __________________________________________________________ 52) During your position of leadership, how supportive was the AfricanAmerican community of the education policy positions taken by AfricanAmerican leaders? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #56) ______ Very supportive (go to #56) ______ More supportive than not (go to #56) ______ Supportive of the positions of some African American elected officials and unsupportive of others ______ Unsupportive (go to #54)

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

171

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

172

APPENDIX A

53) What specific factors formed the basis of support for the policy positions of some African-American leaders and not others? (go to #55) __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 54) What specific factors contributed to disunity between the AfricanAmerican community and African-American leaders? ______________ __________________________________________________________ 55) What if any effect did the disunity between the African-American community and African-American leaders have on education policy? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 56) Is there anything else about unique education policy or programs that I should be aware of? Reports? Other studies? _____________________ __________________________________________________________ 57) Are there any further issues I should be aware of? ________________ __________________________________________________________ 58) Are there other people that it would be especially useful for me to talk to? __________________________________________________________ Thank you.

32903_SP_JOH_App A_163-172

172

8/13/02, 9:15 PM

Appendix B

Questionnaire for African-American Elected Officials

Interviewee name_______________________________________ Introduction: I am conducting research which examines African-American political influence in the suburbs. I am using Prince George’s County as a case study, to determine the impact that African-American migration to the suburbs has had on the structure of the governing coalition, and the ability of African Americans to initiate and implement education policy that is in the interest of the African-American community. The time frame that my study covers is 1971–1994. Introductory Questions: First, could you describe all elective position(s) that you have held/hold in Prince George’s County, and the years that you served in this capacity? Elective position(s) ______________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________ Years served _____________________ Did you run in a district or countywide? ___________________________ How long have you been a resident of Prince George’s County? _____________

173

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

173

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

174

APPENDIX B

Let me start by asking a few general questions relating to African-American representation on policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. 1) Are you able to cite any individual or organizational efforts undertaken to increase African-American representation on policy-making boards? Yes ______ (cite individuals or organizations) No ______ (go to #7) 2) Have these efforts focused on African-American candidates in general or specific African-American candidates? General _______ (go to #4) Specific ______ Both __________ 3) What factors or candidate characteristics, other than race, have been responsible for efforts focused on some African-American candidates over others? ________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 4) What strategies/resources did the aforementioned individuals or organizations employ to increase African-American representation on policymaking boards? _____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 5) Using the following measurements, indicate how effective these efforts have been. ______ Extremely effective ______ Very effective ______ More effective than not ______ Neither effective or ineffective ______ Ineffective 6) Have there been any obstacles to increasing African-American representation on policy-making boards? Yes _______ (what were the obstacles?) No ________

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

174

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

Appendix B

175

Now I’d like to turn to specific questions about your election campaign. 7) Name any civic, religious, political organizations, or individuals that provided significant support for your election campaign. ______________ __________________________________________________________ 8) Which issue or group constituencies did your electoral campaign focus on? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 9) What policy issues were you most concerned with during your term(s) in office? _____________________________________________________ 10) Did you initiate any policy relating to the ___________ issue? (mention all issues cited) _____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 11) Did you receive any support or opposition from white members for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (mention all issue areas cited) __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 12) Did you receive any support or opposition from other African-American elected or appointed officials for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (mention all issue areas cited) _____________________ __________________________________________________________ 13) Did you receive any support or opposition from the African-American community for your policy initiatives relating to ___________? (mention all issue areas cited) _________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 14) What was the outcome of these policy initiatives? 15) Did you face opposition in your campaign for office? Yes ________ No _________ (go to #17) 16) Was/were your opponent(s) African American or white? African American _______ White_______

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

175

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

176

APPENDIX B

(For candidates serving multiple terms, indicate specific election in which opposition was present.) 17) Name any individuals or organizations that provided significant support for your opponent. __________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 18) From which racial group did you receive your primary electoral support? __________________________________________________________ 19) Did you receive significant support from other racial groups? Yes _______ No ________ The following questions relate to policy issues of importance to the AfricanAmerican community in Prince George’s County. 20) In your opinion, what issues were of greatest concern to the AfricanAmerican community during your term(s) of office? (rank order) __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 21) To the best of your ability, cite any unique educational programs focusing on African-American student achievement that have been implemented in the County. ______________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 22) What organization or individual(s) initiated the _______________ program? (mention all programs cited) ____________________________ __________________________________________________________ 23) What organization or individual(s) supported the implementation of the _______________ program? (mention all programs cited) __________ __________________________________________________________ 24) How effective have these programs been in closing the gap between white and African-American student achievement in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely effective (go to #26) ______ Very effective (go to #26)

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

176

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

Appendix B

177

______ More effective than not (go to #26) ______ Neither effective or ineffective ______ Ineffective 25) What have been the obstacles to closing the gaps between white and African-American student achievement? _________________________ __________________________________________________________ The following questions relate to the level of informal influence yielded by African Americans in Prince George’s County. 26) In ranking order name any African-American individuals who in your opinion were/are influential and often consulted regarding issues relating to education policy in Prince George’s County during your term(s) of office. _____________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 27) Using the following measurements, how often were the recommendations of these individuals taken into account in final decisions? _______ Always _______ Very often _______ Most often than not _______ Never 28) How successful have these individuals been in getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? (mention all individuals cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #30) ______ Very successful (go to #30) ______ More successful than not (go to #30) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 29) What have been the obstacles to getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? __________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

177

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

178

APPENDIX B

30) In ranking order name any African American civic, political, or religious organizations that in your opinion are influential and often consulted regarding issues relating to education policy in Prince George’s County. __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 31) How successful have these organization been in getting their policy interests initiated or placed on the public agenda? (mention all organizations cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #33) ______ Very successful (go to #33) ______ More successful than not (go to #33) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 32) What have been the obstacles to getting their policy interests implemented? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 33) In ranking order name any African-American individuals who in your estimation are influential and often consulted regarding the appointment of African Americans to policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 34) How successful have these individuals been in getting African Americans appointed to policy making positions? (mention all individuals cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #36) ______ Very successful (go to #36) ______ More successful than not (go to #36) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 35) What obstacles have they faced in getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? ___________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

178

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

Appendix B

179

36) In ranking order name any African-American civic, religious, or political organizations that in your opinion are influential and often consulted regarding the appointment of African Americans to policy-making boards in Prince George’s County. ______________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 37) How successful have these organizations been in getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? (mention all organizations cited) ______ Extremely successful (go to #39) ______ Very successful (go to #39) ______ More successful than not (go to #39) ______ Neither successful or unsuccessful ______ Unsuccessful 38) What obstacles have they faced in getting African Americans appointed to policy-making positions? ___________________________________ __________________________________________________________ The following questions relate to the white communities’ willingness to share power with African Americans in county affairs. 39) During your term in office how willing was the white community to share power with the African-American community in county affairs? ______ Extremely willing (go to #41) ______ Very willing (go to #41) ______ More willing than not (go to #41) ______ Willing to share power with some sectors of the African-American community and not with other sectors ______ Unwilling (go to #41) 40) Why were they willing to share power with some sectors of the AfricanAmerican community and not others? __________________________ __________________________________________________________ 41) During your term in office how willing were white elected officials to share power with the African-American community in county affairs? ______ Extremely willing (go to #43)

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

179

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

180

APPENDIX B

______ Very willing (go to #43) ______ More willing than not (go to #43) ______ Willing with some sectors of the African-American community and unwilling of other sectors ______ Unwilling (go to #43) 42) Why were they willing to share power with some sectors of the AfricanAmerican community and not others? __________________________ __________________________________________________________ 43) During your term in office how supportive was the white community of African-American candidates running for elective office in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #45) ______ Very supportive (go to #45) ______ More supportive than not (go to #45) ______ Supportive of some African-American candidates and resistant to others. ______ Resistant (go to #45) 44) Why did they support some African-American candidates but not others? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 45) How supportive were white elected officials of African-American candidates seeking elective office in Prince George’s County? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #47) ______ Very supportive (go to #47) ______ More supportive than not (go to #47) ______ Supportive of some African-American candidates and resistant to others ______ Resistant (go to #47) 46) Why did they support some African-American candidates but not others? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

180

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

Appendix B

181

The final set of questions relates to the level of cohesiveness within the African-American community. 47) During your term in office, how cohesive was the African-American community on issues relating to education policy? ______ Extremely cohesive (go to #49) ______ Very cohesive (go to #49) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #49) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #49) ______ Uncohesive 48) What specific factors contributed to disunity within the African-American community? ____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 49) During your term in office, how cohesive was the African-American community as it relates to increasing African-American representation on policy-making boards? ______ Extremely cohesive (go to #51) ______ Very cohesive (go to #51) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #51) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #51) ______ Uncohesive 50) What specific factors contributed to disunity within the African-American community? ____________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 51) During your term in office, how cohesive were African-American leaders as it relates to increasing African-American representation on policymaking boards? ______ Extremely cohesive (go to #54) ______ Very cohesive (go to #54) ______ More cohesive than not (go to #54) ______ Neither cohesive or uncohesive (go to #54) ______ Uncohesive

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

181

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

182

APPENDIX B

52) What specific factors contributed to disunity amongst African-American leaders? ___________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 53) What if any effect did their disunity have on increasing African-American representation on policy- making boards? ____________________ __________________________________________________________ 54) During your term in office, how supportive was the African-American community of the education policy positions taken by African-American leaders? ______ Extremely supportive (go to #58) ______ Very supportive (go to #58) ______ More supportive than not (go to #58) ______ Supportive of the positions of some African-American elected officials and unsupportive of others ______ Unsupportive (go to #56) 55) What specific factors formed the basis of support for the policy positions of some African-American leaders and not others? (go to #57) _____ __________________________________________________________ 56) What specific factors contributed to disunity between the African-American community and African-American leaders? ___________________ __________________________________________________________ 57) What if any effect did the disunity between the African-American community and African-American leaders have on education policy? __________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________ 58) Is there anything else about unique education policy or programs that I should be aware of? Reports? Other studies? _____________________ __________________________________________________________ 59) Are there any further issues I should be aware of? ________________ __________________________________________________________ 60) Are there other people that it would be especially useful for me to talk to? __________________________________________________________ Thank you.

32903_SP_JOH_App B_173-182

182

8/13/02, 9:17 PM

Notes

CHAPTER 1 1. See Adolph Reed, Stirrings in the Jug: Black Politics in the Post–Segregation Era (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1999), for a more complete discussion of the historic tendency to treat African Americans as a socioeconomic and political monolith. 2. John J. Palen, The Suburbs (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1995). 3. Frederick M. Wirt, Benjamin Walter, Francine F. Rabinovitz, and Deborah R. Hensler, On the City’s Rim: Politics and Policy in Suburbia (Lexington, Mass.: D.C. Heath and Company, 1972), chapter 2; Palen, The Suburbs, chapter 7. 4. John J. Harrigan, Political Change in the Metropolis, 5th ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 1993), pp. 279–80. 5. Dennis R. Judd and Todd Swanstrom, City Politics: Private Power and Public Policy (New York: HarperCollins College Publishers, 1994), pp. 200–205. 6. Ibid., p. 205. 7. Palen, The Suburbs, pp. 128–29. 8. Thomas A. Clark, “The Suburbanization Process and Residential Segregation,” in Divided Neighborhoods: Changing Patterns of Racial Segregation, ed. Gary A. Tobin (Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1987), p. 115. 9. Palen, The Suburbs, p. 129. 10. Mack H. Jones, “Black Political Empowerment in Atlanta: Myth and Reality,” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Sciences 439 (September 1978): 90–117. 11. Peter Bachrach and Morton S. Baratz, Power and Poverty: Theory and Practice (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 18. 12. Ibid., pp. 8–9. 13. Reed, Stirrings in the Jug, p. 15. 14. Ibid. 15. E.E. Schattschneider, The Semi-Sovereign People: A Realist’s View of Democracy in America (Chicago: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1983), p. 30. 16. Ibid., p. 34. 17. Rufus P. Browning, Dale Rogers Marshall, and David H. Tabb, Protest Is Not Enough (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984). 18. Reed, Stirrings in the Jug, pp. 19–20. 19. Ibid., p. 18.

183

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

183

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

184

NOTES

20. Ibid, p. 5. 21. William R. Keech, The Impact of Negro Voting: The Role of the Vote in the Quest for Equality (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1968), pp. 99–100. 22. Ibid. 23. James W. Button, Blacks and Social Change: The Impact of the Civil Rights Movement in Southern Communities (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1989). 24. Lawrence J. Hanks, The Struggle for Black Political Empowerment in Three Georgia Counties (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1987), pp. 50–52. 25. Leonard A. Cole, Blacks in Power (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1976); Button, Blacks and Social Change; Ronnie Moore and Marvin Rich, “When Blacks Take Office,” Progressive 36:5 (May 1972):31; Frank R. Parker, Black Votes Count: Political Empowerment in Mississippi after 1965 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1990). 26. Cole, Blacks in Power; Albert K. Karnig and Susan Welch, “The Impact of Black Elected Officials on Urban Expenditures and Intergovernmental Revenue,” in Urban Policy Making, ed. Dale Roger Marshall (Beverly Hills: Sage, 1979) pp. 101– 126; Albert K. Karnig and Susan Welch, Black Representation and Urban Policy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980); Button, Blacks and Social Change p. 225. 27. Button, Blacks and Social Change, p. 226. 28. Michael B. Preston, “Big-City Black Mayors: An Overview,” The National Political Science Review 2 (1990): 135. 29. Preston, “Big-City Black Mayors: An Overview”; Peter Eisinger, “Black Mayors and the Politics of Racial Economic Advancement,” in Readings in Urban Politics: Past, Present, and Future, 2nd ed., ed. Harlan Hahn and Charles Levine (New York: Longman, 1984) pp. 173–201; Huey Perry, “Black Politics and Mayoral Leadership in Birmingham and New Orleans,” The National Political Science Review 2:154–160 (1990). 30. William E. Nelson Jr., “Black Mayoral Leadership: A Twenty-Year Perspective,” The National Political Science Review 2 (1990): 191. 31. Adolph Reed, Stirrings in the Jug: Black Politics in the Post-Segregation Era (Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1999), pp. 79–115. 32. Preston, “Big-City Black Mayors: An Overview,” p. 136. 33. Ibid. 34. Nelson, “Black Mayoral Leadership: A Twenty-Year Perspective,” p. 191. 35. Ibid., p. 192. 36. Ibid. 37. Clarence N. Stone, Regime Politics: Governing Atlanta 1946–1988 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1989). 38. Clarence N. Stone, “Systemic Power in Community Decision Making: A Restatement of Stratification Theory,” The American Political Science Review 74 (December) 978–90. 39. Ibid., p. 979. 40. Browning, et al., Protest Is Not Enough, p. 263. 41. Ibid., p. 50. 42. Button, Blacks and Social Change, p. 229. 43. Ibid., p. 107. 44. Ibid., pp. 107–13.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

184

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

185

45. Ibid., p. 229. 46. Browning et al., Protest Is Not Enough, p. 18. 47. Ibid. pp. 245–50. 48. Raphael Sonenshein, “Biracial Coalitions in Big Cities: Why They Succeed, Why They Fail,” in Racial Politics in American Cities, ed. Browning et al. (New York: Longman, 1990), p. 199. 49. Ibid. 50. Stokely Carmichael and Charles Hamilton, Black Power: The Politics of Liberation in America (New York: Random House, 1967), p. 76. 51. Button, Blacks and Social Change, p. 227. 52. Claude W. Barnes, “Black Mecca Reconsidered: An Analysis of Atlanta’s Post–Civil Rights Political Economy,” in African Americans and the New Policy Consensus: Retreat of the Liberal State, ed. Marilyn Lashley and M. N. Jackson (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1994), pp. 179–199; Stone, Regime Politics: Governing Atlanta 1946–1988, p. 137. 53. Ibid. 54. Doug McAdam, Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency, 1930–1970 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), p. 40. 55. V.O. Key Jr., Southern Politics: In State and Nation (New York: Vintage Books, 1949), p. 300. 56. Ibid., p. 305. 57. Ibid., pp. 300–302. 58. Ibid., p. 308. 59. William J. Grimshaw, Bitter Fruit: Black Politics and the Chicago Machine, 1931–1991 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), p. 97.

CHAPTER 2 1. Daniel M. Greene, A Brief History of Prince George’s County in the Perspective of Three Centuries: Commemorating Its 250th Anniversary (Avondale, Md: Prince George’s County Chamber of Commerce, 1946), p. 11. 2. Bianca P. Floyd, Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland (Prince George’s County: Maryland-National Capital Park and Planning Commission, Department of Parks and Recreation, Prince George’s County, History Division, January 1989), pp. 12–16. 3. Ibid., p. 19. 4. Ibid., pp. 20–21. 5. Alan Virta, Prince George’s County: A Pictorial History (Norfolk, Va.: The Donning Company, 1984), p. 137. 6. Greene, A Brief History of Prince George’s County in the Perspective of Three Centuries, p. 6. 7. Ibid. 8. John Cumberland, “Economic Development in Prince George’s County, Maryland,” a study prepared for the Prince George’s County Governmental Study Commission ( June 1967), p. 68 [Unpublished manuscript].

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

185

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

186

NOTES

9. Henry Eppes, Home Rule in Maryland Counties, Maryland Technical Advisory Service Bureau of Governmental Research, unpublished booklet, Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences (College Park: University of Maryland, November 1975) p. 1. 10. Key Jr., Southern Politics: In State and Nation p. 300. 11. George H. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985), p. 1. 12. Ibid., p. 23. 13. Ibid., p. 24. 14. Ibid., p. 27. 15. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, p. 26. 16. Ibid., pp. 8, 26. 17. Ibid., pp. 8–9. 18. Leon Wynter, “The Changing Suburbs; Prince George’s White Flight and Black Progress,” Washington Post, April 9, 1981, p. Md. 1. 19. Key, Southern Politics: In State and Nation, pp. 300–302. 20. David J. Dent, “The New Black Suburbs,” New York Times, June 14, 1992, sect. 6, p. 18. 21. Joel Garreau, “‘Clusters’: One Measure of Success: The Emerging Cities: Black Success in the Suburbs,” Washington Post, November 29, 1987, p. A16. 22. Ibid. 23. Joel Garreau, “A Middle Class without Precedent; Transcending Race Barriers and Living the American Dream: The Emerging Cities; Black Success in the Suburbs,” Washington Post, November 29, 1987, p. A1. 24. Cumberland, “Economic Development in Prince George’s County, Maryland,” pp. 25, 31. 25. Ibid., p. 25. 26. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, pp. 64–65. 27. Ibid. 28. Cumberland, “Economic Development in Prince George’s County, Maryland,” pp. 69–71. 29. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Construction Reports, Residential Building Permits: 1960, 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports, (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office). 30. Ibid. 31. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, p. 65. 32. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Construction Reports, Residential Building Permits: 1960–1989. 33. Ibid. 34. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, p. 24. 35. Dent, “The New Black Suburbs,” p. 18. 36. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population, Composition of the Population by Counties: 1960, 1970, 1980, & 1990 reports, (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office). 37. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, p. 71.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

186

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

187

38. Dennis E. Gale, George Grier, and Eunice Grier, “Black and White Urban to Suburban Outmigrants: A Comparative Analysis, 1975–1980,” Center for Washington Area Studies, George Washington University (May 1986), pp. 13–14. 39. Wynter, “The Changing Suburbs; Prince George’s White Flight and Black Progress,” p. Md. 1. 40. Gale et al., “Black and White Urban to Suburban Outmigrants,” p. 15. 41. Ibid., pp. 21–22. 42. Ibid., pp. 28–29. 43. Dent, “The New Black Suburbs,” p. 18. 44. Virta, Prince George’s County: A Pictorial History, p. 203. 45. Gale et al., “Black and White Urban to Suburban Outmigrants,” p. 7. 46. Wynter, “The Changing Suburbs; Prince George’s White Flight and Black Progress,” p. Md. 1. 47. Virta, Prince George’s County: A Pictorial History, p. 213. 48. Wynter, “The Changing Suburbs; Prince George’s White Flight and Black Progress,” p. Md. 1. 49. Ibid. 50. Gale et al., “Black and White Urban to Suburban Outmigrants,” p. 15. 51. Dent, “The New Black Suburbs,” p. 18. 52. D’Vera Cohn and Richard Morin, “The Dispersion Decade: Census Analysis Shows Area Minorities Have Spread Out,” Washington Post, July 21, 1991, p. A1.

CHAPTER 3 1. Virta, Prince George’s County: A Pictorial History, p. 213. 2. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population, Summary Social Economic, and Housing Characteristics: 1960, 1970, 1980, 1990, & 2000 reports, (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1989). 3. An analysis of African-American and white student achievement begins during the 1984–85 term, because it was the first year that standardized test scores were aggregated according to race. 4. Barbara Vobejda, “Black Prince George’s Students Lag in Tests,” Washington Post, July 30, 1985, p. A1; Barbara Vobejda, “Consultant May Have Answer for P.G. Schools: Yale Psychiatrist Has Demonstrated Success in Raising Performance of Minority Students,” Washington Post, August 5, 1985, p. C1. 5. Michele L. Norris, “Prince George’s Schools Urged to Cut Suspensions of Black Students,” Washington Post, December 15, 1988, p. B11. 6. Darren C. Hackett, “Prince George’s Student Suspensions Drop; Blacks Still Disciplined More,” Washington Post, August 8, 1989, p. D1. 7. Keith Harriston, “Prince George’s Teaching of Black History Decried at Hearing,” Washington Post, February 16, 1990, p. D1. 8. Janet Naylor, “Black Males’ Slide Starts in the 4th Grade,” Washington Post, August 21, 1990, p. B1; Michele Norris, “Panel Charges Prince George’s Schools of Failure of Black Males,” Washington Post, August 21, 1990, p. A1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

187

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

188

NOTES

9. Norris, “Panel Charges Prince George’s Schools of Failure of Black Males,” p. A1. 10. Retha Hill, “P.G. Goes the Extra Mile to Find Minority Teachers,” Washington Post, May 4, 1994, p. A1. 11. Ibid. 12. Michele L. Norris, “Emotions Run High at Protest of Murphy’s Contract Offer,” Washington Post, March 9, 1990, p. C1. 13. Lisa Leff, “Test Gap Widens in P.G.: Black Pupils Trail Whites in New Exam,” Washington Post, January 14, 1992, p. B1.

CHAPTER 4 1. Floyd, Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland, p. 61. 2. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980. 3. Floyd, Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland, p. 60. 4. Ibid., p. 64. 5. Ibid., p. 61. 6. Ibid. 7. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Census of the Population, Composition of the Population by Counties, 1960, 1970, 1980, 1990 & 2000 reports. Floyd, Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland, p. 64. 8. For a more complete discussion of the Republican Party’s attempt to capture the Southern white male vote, see Stanley Hirshson, Farewell to the Bloody Shirt, (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1962). 9. Floyd, Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland, p. 65. 10. Ibid., pp. 73–75. 11. Ibid. 12. Ibid. 13. Ibid., pp. 69–71. 14. Ibid., p. 77. 15. Information included in this section and subsequent sections on AfricanAmerican mobilization efforts and politics in Prince George’s County between the mid-1950s and 1994 was obtained from interviews with former and current AfricanAmerican elected officials. 16. Toni-Michelle C. Travis, “Boston: The Unfinished Agenda,” in Racial Politics in American Cities, ed. Browning et al. (New York: Longman, 1990), pp. 108–121. 17. Leon Wynter, “The Black Vote’s Time Has Come,” Washington Post, April 23, 1981, p. Md. 1. 18. Ibid. 19. Callcott, Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980, p. 23. 20. Wynter, “The Black Vote’s Time Has Come,” p. Md. 1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

188

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

189

21. David Maraniss, “Old Allies, New Images Compete in 25th District,” Washington Post, August 23, 1978, p. A1. 22. Ibid. 23. Wynter, “The Black Vote’s Time Has Come,” p. Md. 1. 24. Ibid. 25. Ibid. 26. Leon Wynter, “Choice in Prince George’s; 12 Black Ministers Switch to GOP,” Washington Post, February 17, 1982, p. B4; Leon Wynter, “Prince George’s Black Ministers Explain Shift to GOP,” Washington Post, March 5, 1982, p. C5. 27. Leon Wynter, “Black Expected to Fill Vacancy on P.G. Board,” Washington Post, November 24, 1982, p. B4. 28. Michele L. Norris, “Broadwater House Race Is 2nd Comeback Attempt,” Washington Post, November 22, 1991, p. C1. 29. John Feinstein, “Trotter’s Swearing in a Democrats’ ‘Lovefest,’ ” Washington Post, November 10, 1983, p. B1; Michele McQueen, “PG Democrats Set to Pick Successor to Senator Broadwater,” Washington Post, October 20, 1983, p. C1. 30. McQueen, “PG Democrats Set to Pick Successor to Senator Broadwater,” p. C1. 31. Feinstein, “Trotter’s Swearing In a Democrats’ ‘Lovefest,’ ” p. B1. 32. Keith Harriston and Michele L. Norris, “Blacks Vent Anger at Glendening; Murphy Dispute Opens Old Wounds,” Washington Post, March 8, 1990, p. D1. 33. Gelareh Asayesh, “Sharing of Power Divides Blacks in Prince George’s,” Baltimore Sun, March 5, 1990, p. 1D. 34. Eugene L. Meyer, “Snub on Slate Sparks Wynn–Miller Contest,” Washington Post, August 23, 1990, p. M10. 35. Eugene L. Meyer and Michele L. Norris, “P.G. Blacks Rejected Racial Campaigns,” Washington Post, September 13, 1990, p. C1. 36. Michele L. Norris, “Appointment Tests Prince George’s Democrats,” Washington Post, March 25, 1991, p. D3. 37. Michele L. Norris, “Three Candidates for Md. House Seat Target Loyal Cores,” Washington Post, February 29, 1992, p. C1. 38. Michele L. Norris, “Montgomery–P.G. Border Could Become Battle Line in Majority-Black District,” Washington Post, November 11, 1991, p. C1. 39. Michele L. Norris, “Downside For P.G. Blacks: Too Many Want Open Seat,” Washington Post, October 6, 1991, p. B1. 40. Michele L. Norris, “Black P.G. Clerics Decide to Endorse House Candidate,” Washington Post, November 14, 1991, p. D1; Michele L. Norris, “4th District Nod Goes to Wynn,” Washington Post, March 4, 1992, p. A1. 41. Paul Duggan, “Williams, Eyeing the Hill, Still Goes Own Way,” Washington Post, February 13, 1992, p. C1. 42. Eugene L. Meyer, “In 4th, It’s ‘Wynn, Wynn, Wynn,’ ” Washington Post, March 4, 1992, p. A1. 43. Michael Abramowitz, “Curry Rides In on New Wave; Conventional Wisdom Is Loser in Pr. George’s Primary,” Washington Post, September 15, 1994, p. A1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

189

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

190

NOTES

44. Retha Hill, “Curry’s Victory Caps a Historic Shift of Power,” Washington Post, November 9, 1994, p. A38. 45. Ibid. 46. Michele McQueen, “Perry Selected to Fill P.G. Delegate Vacancy,” Washington Post, February 12, 1983, p. B1.

CHAPTER 5 1. Sharon Conway, “Sanitary Board Post Goes to Marvin L. Gay, P.G. Democrat,” Washington Post, February 9, 1978, p. Md. 2. 2. John Feinstein, “Hogan Decides to Split Prince George’s Position,” Washington Post, December 26, 1978, p. B6. 3. David Maraniss and Judith Valente, “Peace Mission Fails; Hogan Rift with Delegates Widens As Peace Talks Fail,” Washington Post, March 30, 1979, p. C1. 4. Robin Meszoly, “An Acting Chief of Police Named for Pr. George’s,” Washington Post, June 30, 1979, p. C1. 5. Benjamin Weiser and Margaret Shapiro, “P.G. Groups Unite to Fight Hiring of Police Nominee,” Washington Post, November 29, 1979, p. C1; Jackson Diehl and Benjamin Weiser, “Hogan’s Nominee for Police Chief Lauded, Attacked on Virginia Record,” Washington Post, November 14, 1979, p. A1; Jackson Diehl and Benjamin Weiser, “Four P.G. Groups Plan to Oppose Police Chief Nominee,” Washington Post, November 28, 1979, p. C1. 6. Margaret Shapiro and Jackson Diehl, “Council Rejects Hogan’s Nominee for Police Chief,” Washington Post, December 4, 1979, p. A1; Jackson Diehl and Benjamin Weiser, “Tense Actors Play Out Two-Week P.G. Police Drama,” Washington Post, December 4, 1979, p. A9. 7. Benjamin Weiser, “Hey Chief—A Refrain of the 1st Day on the Job; 1st Day Refrain: ‘Hey Chief,’ ” Washington Post, December 30, 1979, p. C1. 8. Margaret Shapiro, “Crowning a Councilman; Naming Councilman Shows Blacks Gaining Some Clout in P.G., Washington Post, September 24, 1980, p. C1. 9. Ibid. 10. Ibid. 11. Loretta Tofani, “P.G. Gets Black Deputy Chief; P.G.’s Civilian Aide Will Assume Duties As Personnel Head,” Washington Post, May 6, 1981, p. C1. 12. Ibid. 13. Staff, “Regional News,” Proprietary to the United Press International, November 12, 1982. 14. Leon Wynter, “Black Expected to Fill Vacancy on P.G. Board,” Washington Post, November 24, 1982, p. B4. 15. John Feinstein, “Hughes’ Pick of Sheehan Sets Off Storm; Race an Issue in Fight to Fill P.G. Seat,” Washington Post, February 2, 1983, p. Md. 1. 16. Ibid. 17. Michele McQueen, “Perry Selected to Fill P.G. Delegate Vacancy,” Washington Post, February 12, 1983, B1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

190

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

191

18. Ibid. 19. Eugene L. Meyer, “P.G.’s Corrections Department Gets a New Boss,” Washington Post, June 18, 1983, p. B5. 20. Michele McQueen and Judith Valente, “Glendening Appointments Anger P.G. Politicians,” Washington Post, July 20, 1983, p. Md. 1. 21. Eugene Meyer and Sandra Gregg, “Surprise Choice for P.G. Chief Beat Out Controversial Candidate,” Washington Post, September 1, 1983, p. Md. 1. 22. Gwen Ifill, “Patronage Power Sought in P.G.; Sponsors of Legislation Want More Posts for Blacks,” Washington Post, November 19, 1984, p. B3; Gwen Ifill, “Glendening Reshapes County Commissions,” Washington Post, June 7, 1985, p. C3. 23. Matthew Daly, “Blacks Named to Top Jobs on P.G. Staff,” Washington Post, November 20, 1986, p. B7. 24. Keith Harriston, “Blacks’ Political Fortunes on the Rise in P.G.,” Washington Post, December 15, 1986, p. B1. 25. Ibid. 26. Ibid. 27. Retha Hill, “Blacks Polish Political Clout in P.G., Montgomery Showdown Sends Message, Leaders Say,” Washington Post, July 13, 1987. p. D1. 28. Ibid. 29. Retha Hill, “Heat Appears to Soften Bonds between Allies in P.G.,” Washington Post, July 30, 1987, (Virginia Weekly) p. M1. 30. Ibid. 31. Retha Hill, “Hilda Pemberton Aims for Consensus; P.G. Council Leader Faces Fire on Issue,” Washington Post, November 23, 1987, p. D1. 32. Ibid. 33. Ibid. 34 . Retha Hill, “Blacks Tilt Glendening Toward Choice for Bench,” Washington Post, November 5, 1987, p. M1. 35. Ibid. 36. Retha Hill, “Schaefer Names Two Blacks to District Court; P.G. Officials Say Appointments Help Racial Balance,” Washington Post, May 3, 1988, p. B4. 37. Retha Hill and Keith Harriston, “Glendening Appoints Two County Attorneys; Action Meant to Appease Two Political Groups,” Washington Post, May 6, 1988, p. D6. 38. Retha Hill, “P.G. Blacks Debate Role of Leader; Community’s Varied Political Agenda Reflects Growing Diversity,” Washington Post, December 21, 1987, p. A1. 39. Keith Harriston and Debbie M. Price, “Glendening Supports Adding Civilian to Police Review Board,” Washington Post, July 28, 1989, p. C1. 40. Debbie Price, “Police Chief Retires in Pr. George’s: Flaherty’s Six Years Marked by Growth and Racial Tension,” Washington Post, January 3, 1990, p. A1. 41. Ibid. 42. Matt Neufeld, “P.G. Council Chooses Bell As New Chairman,” Washington Times, January 24, 1990, p. B1. 43. Debbie Price, “First Black Officers Promoted to Major on P.G. Police Force,” Washington Post, January 19, 1990, p. C1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

191

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

192

NOTES

44. Eugene L. Meyer, “Glendening Names Top Aides, Fills 12 Other Key Positions,” Washington Post, November 20, 1990, p. B3. 45. Debbie Price, “Seven Appointed to P.G. Review Panel,” Washington Post, November 30, 1990, p. B7. 46. Ibid.

CHAPTER 6 1. For a fuller discussion of the black quest for equal educational opportunities and resources in order to eliminate socioeconomic disparities, see Richard Kluger, Simple Justice (New York: Vintage Books, 1975). 2. In addition to the references included in this section, information also was obtained from interviews with current and former African-American elected officials. 3. United States Commission on Civil Rights, A Long Day’s Journey into Light: School Desegregation in Prince George’s County (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, Office of Program and Policy Review, March 1976), p. 446. 4. Ibid., p. 97. 5. Ibid., p. 177. 6. Ibid., pp. 4, 33. 7. United States Commission on Civil Rights, A Long Day’s Journey into Light, p. 368. 8. Ibid., p. 345. 9. Sharon Conway, “Plan Offered to Modify Busing in P.G. County: Plan to Modify Busing,” Washington Post, March 17, 1977, p. Md.1. 10. Ibid. 11. Ibid. 12. Vernon Thompson, “Blacks Form Power Base: County’s Blacks Form Coalition,” Washington Post, March 5, 1977, p. D1. 13. Vernon Thompson, “NAACP Leaders Unhappy with Turnout at P.G. Protest,” Washington Post, February 18, 1978, p. C3. 14. Ibid. 15. Vernon Thompson, “P.G. School, NAACP Leaders Agree to Curb Busing,” Washington Post, February 28, 1979, p. A1; Neil Henry, “School’s Attorney Denies He Duped P.G. Black Leader: Deception Is Denied in Busing Agreement,” Washington Post, March 4, 1979, p. B1. 16. Vernon Thompson and Neil Henry, “He Was Duped, Says Prince George’s NAACP President: NAACP Chief Says He Was Duped into Prince George’s School Talks,” Washington Post, March 3, 1979, p. A1. 17. Neil Henry and Thomas Morgan, “P.G. Busing Agreement Prompts Move to Oust NAACP Head,” Washington Post, March 1, 1979, p. C1. 18. Ibid. 19. Neil Henry, “Two Black Leaders Symbolize P.G. Busing Dispute: Vaughns: ‘We Went Through Hell,’ ” Washington Post, March 8, 1979, p. B1. 20. Ibid.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

192

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

193

21. Ibid. 22. Ibid. 23. Henry, “Two Black Leaders Symbolize P.G. Busing Dispute, p. B1. 24. Staff, “Abstracts,” New York Times, April 1, 1979, p. 46. 25. Neil Henry, “Martin Suspended As NAACP Chief in P.G.: National NAACP Chairman Suspends Martin in P.G., Washington Post, March 9, 1979, p. A1; Jackson Diehl and Warren Brown, “National NAACP Unit Votes to Suspend President in P.G.: NAACP Unit Votes against P.G. President,” Washington Post, May 18, 1979, p. B1. 26. Thompson, “P.G. School, NAACP Leaders Agree to Curb Busing,” p. A1. 27. Diehl and Brown, “National NAACP Unit Votes to Suspend President in P.G.,” p. B1. 28. Robin Meszoly, “Several P.G. School Board Members Seeking Action to Remove Chairman: P.G. School Board Chairman Receiving Pressure to Resign,” Washington Post, June 2, 1979, p. B1. 29. Margaret Shapiro, “P. G. School Board Rejects Plan to Cut Back Busing; P.G. School Board Rejects Cutback in Busing,” Washington Post, September 14, 1979, p. A1. 30. Ibid. 31. Michael Eastman, “P.G. Seeks Ways to Avoid Busing in Grade Schools: P.G. Orders Busing Study,” Washington Post, December 13, 1979, p. Md.1. 32. Michael Eastman, “P.G. Busing Unit’s Closed Meetings Stir Threat of Suit: Closed Meetings Draw Fire,” Washington Post, February 21, 1980, p. Md.1. 33. Ibid. 34. Michael Eastman, “Latest P.G. School Busing Plan Fails to Reassure Its Opponents: New P.G. School Busing Plan Fails to Satisfy Opponents,” Washington Post, March 26, 1980, p. C1; Michael Eastman, “NAACP Opposes Plan to Reduce Busing in P.G.,” Washington Post, April 1, 1980, p. B4; Margaret Shapiro, “P.G. Board Approves Plan to Reduce Busing: P.G. School Board Votes to Reduce Racial Busing,” Washington Post, April 11, 1980, p. B1. 35. Margaret Shapiro, “NAACP Threatens to Reopen P.G. School Lawsuit: NAACP Weighs Reopening P.G. Segregation Suit,” Washington Post, June 26, 1980, p. C1. 36. Margaret Shapiro and Leon Wynter, “Pr. George’s Faces Busing Case Renewal,” Washington Post, September 2, 1981, p. A1. 37. Ben A. Franklin, “10 Years after Victory on Busing, NAACP Is Back in Courtroom,” New York Times, June 28, 1982, p. 12. 38. Leon Wynter, “Guidelines Set for Schools’ Racial Balance,” Washington Post, September 9, 1983, p. B5. 39. Ibid. 40. Tom Kapsidelis, “Court Upheld in Maryland School Case,” United Press International, March 29, 1985, AM Cycle. 41. Barbara Vobejda, “Black P.G. Group Opposes Busing: Nearby Schools Preferred, Even if Attended Mostly By One Race,” Washington Post, April 15, 1985, p. D5. 42. Ibid. 43. Robert Green, Final Report on Desegregation of Prince George’s County Public Schools, submitted to Chief Judge Frank A. Kaufman on March 11, 1985.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

193

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

194

NOTES

44. Alvin Thornton and Eva Wells Chunn, “Desegregating with Magnet and One-Race Elementary and Secondary Schools,” Urban League Review, Vol. II, nos. 1 & 2, Winter 1987–88, p. 148. 45. Ibid. 46. Lisa Leff, “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma,” Washington Post, September 14, 1993, p. A1 (part three of a three-part series). 47. Matt Neufeld, “Angry Murphy Says He’ll Quit P.G. Schools,” Washington Times, March 7, 1990, p. B1. 48. Ibid. 49. Matt Neufeld, “P.G. Says Criticism of Murphy Groundless,” Washington Times, March 5, 1990, p. B3; Susan E. Eaton and Elizabeth Crutcher, “Magnets, Media, and Mirages: Prince George’s County’s Miracle Cure,” in Dismantling Desegegation: The Quiet Reversal of Brown v. Board of Education, ed. Gary Orfield and Susan E. Eaton (New York: The New Press, 1996), pp. 265–266. 50. Michele L. Norris, “P.G. School Board Urged to Keep Search Wide Open,” Washington Post, February 19, 1991, p. B3. 51. Lisa Leff, “Space, Not Race, Keeps P.G. Busing Hundreds,” Washington Post, April 21, 1991, p. D1. 52. Ibid. 53. Lisa Leff, “382 Bused Students To Be Reassigned,” Washington Post, May 16, 1991, p. A1. 54. Lisa Leff and Eugene Meyer, “New Schools Proposed to End Busing in P.G.: Plan Would Focus on Inner-Beltway Towns,” Washington Post, September 13, 1992, p. B1. 55. Ibid. 56. Lisa Leff, “The Turner Commission: Schools; More Parental Choice, Privatization Suggested,” Washington Post, September 30, 1993, (Maryland Weekly) p. M1. 57. Ibid. 58. Leff, “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma,” p. A1. 59. Ibid. 60. Ibid. 61. Retha Hill, “P.G. Schools Want to End Busing: Shift to Neighborhood Schools Would Start in 96–97,” Washington Post, July 2, 1994, p. A1; Robert Pierre, “Plan to End P.G. Busing Wins Support, but Officials Wary of Cost,” Washington Post, August 14, 1994, p. A1. 62. Pierre, “Plan to End P.G. Busing Wins Support,” p. A1. 63. Leff, “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma,” p. A1. 64. Michele L. Norris, “Pr. George’s Raises Tax Rate for the First Time in 13 Years,” Washington Post, May 30, 1991, p. A1. 65. Ibid. 66. Laura M. Litvan, “Prince George’s Activists Vow to Fight County on School Cuts,” Washington Times, December 4, 1991, p. B3. 67. Michael Abramowitz, “P.G. Budget Proposal Shows Modest Increases: Schools, Police, Workers Would Gain Funds,” Washington Post, March 29, 1994, p. A1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

194

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

Notes

195

68. Retha Hill, “Schools Stare into Fund Gap: Class Size Reduction May Be in Jeopardy,” Washington Post, March 24, 1994, p. A1. 69. Michael Abramowitz, “Grading Glendening: P.G. Executive Can Tout Economy, Racial Changes in Gubernatorial Bid,” Washington Post, May 3, 1994, p. A1. 70. Leff, “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma,” p. A1. 71. Lisa Leff, “P.G. Group Tells School Board to End Disparities in Spending,” Washington Post, May 2, 1991, p. C1. 72. Ibid. 73. Thornton and Chunn, “Desegregating with Magnet and One-Race Elementary and Secondary Schools,” p. 148. 74. Leff, “The Turner Commission: Schools; More Parental Choice, Privatization Suggested,” p. M1. 75. Thornton and Chunn, “Desegregating with Magnet and One-Race Elementary and Secondary Schools,” p. 152. 76. Barbara Vobejda, “Consultant May Have Answer for P.G. Schools: Yale Psychiatrist Has Demonstrated Success in Raising Performance of Minority Students,” Washington Post, August 5, 1985, p. C1. 77. Leff, “The Turner Commission . . . ,” p. M1. 78. Thornton and Chunn, “Desegregating with Magnet and One-Race Elementary and Secondary Schools,” p. 155; Eaton and Crutcher, “Magnets, Media, and Mirages: Prince George’s County’s Miracle Cure,” p. 287. 79. Michele L. Norris, “P.G. Chief Creates Panel to Raise Black Male’s Progress,” Washington Post, December 20, 1989, p. D1; Warren Simmons and Michael Grady, Black Male Achievement: From Peril to Promise—Report of the Superintendent’s Advisory Committee on Black Male Achievement (Prince George’s County, Md: Prince George’s County Public Schools, August 1990). 80. Karen Goldberg, “PG Urged to Help Blacks Make Grade,” Washington Times, August 22, 1990, p. B1. 81. Staff, “School Board Actions,” Washington Post, June 4, 1987, p. M4. 82. Michael Cromwell and Tracie Reddick, “P.G. Board Approves Multicultural Plan,” Washington Times, September 6, 1991, p. B4. 83. Ibid.; Lisa Leff, “Diversity Tests Schools: Area Educators Struggle to Balance Curriculum,” Washington Post, November 28, 1992, p. A1. 84. Amy Goldstein, “Study Says that P.G. Led U.S. in Drop in White Students: Suburban Systems Now Showing Most Racial Change, Expert Says,” Washington Post, June 23, 1988, p. D1. 85. Ibid. 86. Leff, “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma,” p. A1. 87. Retha Hill, “P.G. Schools Want to End Busing: Shift to Neighborhood Schools Would Start in 96–97,” Washington Post, July 2, 1994, p. A1. 88. Goldstein, “Study Says that P.G. Led U.S. in Drop in White Students,” p. D1. 89. Lisa Leff, “Search Tests P.G. Board’s Sense of Direction,” Washington Post, April 15, 1991, p. D3. 90. Leff, “Diversity Tests Schools,” p. A1.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

195

8/13/02, 9:45 PM

196

NOTES

CHAPTER 7 1. Rufus P. Browning, Dale Rogers, and David H. Tabb, Racial Politics in American Cities (New York: Longman, 1990), p. 9. 2. Key, Southern Politics: In State and Nation, pp. 300–302.

CHAPTER 8 1. Rhonda Stewart, “Living the Dream,” Emerge 10:10 (September 30, 1999): 50. 2. Sarah Koenig, “Broadening Horizons Temper Curry’s Temper,” Baltimore Sun, May 13, 2001, p. 1A. 3. Monte Reel, “Blacks Search for Voice in Charles; Population Leap Not Reflected in Political Leadership,” Washington Post, April 8, 2001, p. C01. 4. Paul Schwartzman, “Curry Wants Legacy of 25 New Schools,” Washington Post, May 2, 2001, p. B05. 5. David Nakamura, “Pr. George’s School Figures Withheld,” Washington Post, July 13, 2001, p. B07. 6. Eric Lipton, “The Struggle of a County’s Schools,” Washington Post, June 21, 1998, p. A1. 7. DeNeen L. Brown, “Textbook Shortage Alarm; Pr. George’s School Chief ’s Muted Response Irks Parents, Teachers,” Washington Post, February 12, 1998, p. A01. 8. David Nakamura, “School Budget Cuts Anger Parents in Pr. George’s,” Washington Post, June 7, 2001, p. B02. 9. Diane Granat, “Virginia vs. Maryland; Battle of the Suburbs,” Washingtonian (April 2001): 80. 10. Amy Argetsinger, “Arundel Schools Are Struggling; County’s Spending per Student Ranks below the Md. Average,” Washington Post, July 4, 1998, p. B01. 11. Jay Matthews and Nurith C. Aizenman, “County Schools Struggle to Lure, Retain Teachers,” Washington Post, August 23, 2001, p. T03. 12. Lipton, “The Struggle of a County’s Schools,” p. A1. 13. Brookings Institution Center on Urban and Metropolitan Policy, “A Region Divided: The State of Growth in Greater Washington, D.C.” (Washington, D.C.: July 1999). 14. Matthews and Aizenman, “County Schools Struggle to Lure, Retain Teachers,” p. T03; Lipton, “The Struggle of a County’s Schools,” p. A1. 15. Brookings Institution Center on Urban and Metropolitan Policy, “ A Region Divided: The State of Growth in Greater Washington, D.C.” 16. Michelle Singletary, “Talkin Money; Evidence of an Eviction Triggers Thoughts about County’s Dichotomy,” Washington Post, January 5, 2000, p. M07. 17. Kristina Stefanova, “Development Falls Short; Anacostia Housing Doesn’t Lure Businesses,” Washington Times, May 6, 2001, p. A1. 18. Kevin Merida, “All the Comforts of Home,” Washington Post, July 20, 2000, p. W05.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

196

8/13/02, 9:46 PM

Notes

197

19. Susan Saulny, “The Seeds of Suburban Renewal: Activists, New Funds Usher in Revival of Areas Inside the Beltway,” Washington Post, January 13, 1999, p. M16. 20. Stephen Braun, “Justice; Latest Police Shooting Shines a Harsh Spotlight on County,” Los Angeles Times, September 14, 2000, p. 5. 21. Ibid. 22. Paul Schwartzman, “Pr. George’s Official Avoids Fallout From Police Scandals,” Washington Post, November 5, 2000, p. C01. 23. Craig Whitlock and David S. Falls, “Police Shot Minorities in Greater Numbers; Blacks, Latinos Make Up 90% of Cases,” Washington Post, July 5, 2001, p. A01. 24. Ta-Neshisi Coates, “Black and Blue; Brutality by Prince George’s County, Maryland, Police Officers,” Washington Monthly 6:33 ( June 1, 2001): 25. 25. Craig Whitlock and David S. Falls, “Officers Killed With Impunity; Officials Ruled Shootings Justified in Every Case—Even of Unarmed Citizens,” Washington Post, July 1, 2001, p. A01. 26. Marcia Slacum Greene, “Moving In and Moving Up, Blacks Transform a County, Washington Post, November 22, 1999, p. A01. 27. Jackie Spinner, “Shift in Leaders Reflects Changes in Population; Myriad Challenges Usher in the New Century,” Washington Post, January 5, 2000, p. M13. 28. Lori Montgomery, “Md. GOP Wants to Break Up Districts; State’s Diversity Isn’t Reflected in Legislature,” Washington Post, September 5, 2001, p. B01.

32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

197

8/13/02, 9:46 PM


32903_SP_JOH_Notes_183-198

198

8/13/02, 9:46 PM

Bibliography

Abramowitz, Michael. 1994. “Curry Rides In on New Wave; Conventional Wisdom Is Loser in Pr. George’s Primary.” Washington Post, September 15, p. A1. ———. 1994. “Grading Glendening: P.G. Executive Can Tout Economy, Racial Changes in Gubernatorial Bid.” Washington Post, May 3, p. A1. ———. 1994. “P.G. Budget Proposal Shows Modest Increases: Schools, Police, Workers Would Gain Funds.” Washington Post, March 29, p. A1. Argetsinger, Amy. 1998. “Arundel Schools Are Struggling; County’s Spending per Student Ranks below the Md. Average.” Washington Post, July 4, p. B01. Asayesh, Gelareh. 1990. “Sharing of Power Divides Blacks in Prince George’s.” Baltimore Sun, March 5, p. 1D. Bachrach, Peter, and Morton S. Baratz. 1970. Power and Poverty: Theory and Practice. New York: Oxford University Press. Barker, Lucius J., and Mack H. Jones. 1994. African Americans and the American Political System. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. Barnes, Claude W. 1994. “Black Mecca Reconsidered: An Analysis of Atlanta’s Post– Civil Rights Political Economy,” in African Americans and the New Policy Consensus: Retreat of the Liberal State, ed. Marilyn Lashley and M. N. Jackson. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press. Bennett, Michael, Cedric Herring, and Douglas Gills. “Political Consolidation or American Apartheid?: Some Political and Economic Consequences of Black Empowerment.” Pp. 35-50 in African Americans and the Public Agenda: The Paradoxes of Public Policy, ed. Cedric Herring. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Bowie, Effie Gwynn. 1916. Across the Years in Prince George’s County. Richmond, Va.: Garrett and Massie. Braun, Stephen. 2000. “Justice; Latest Police Shooting Shines a Harsh Spotlight on County.” Los Angeles Times, September 14, p. 5. Brookings Institution Center on Urban and Metropolitan Policy, 1999. “A Region Divided: The State of Growth in Greater Washington, D.C.” Washington, D.C.: ( July).

199

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

199

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

200

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Brown, DeNeen L. 1998. “Textbook Shortage Alarm; Pr. George’s School Chief ’s Muted Response Irks Parents, Teachers.” Washington Post, February 12, p. A01. Browning, Rufus P., Dale Rogers, Marshall, and David H. Tabb. 1990. Racial Politics in American Cities. New York: Longman. ———. 1984. Protest Is Not Enough. Berkeley: University of California Press. Buncher, Judith F. 1975. The School Busing Controversy: 1970–75. New York: Facts on File. Button, James W. 1989. Blacks and Social Change: The Impact of the Civil Rights Movement in Southern Communities. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Callcott, George, H. 1985. Maryland and America, 1940 to 1980. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Callcott, Margaret. 1969. The Negro in Maryland Politics, 1870–1912. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Carmichael, Stokely, and Charles Hamilton. 1967. Black Power: The Politics of Liberation in America. New York: Random House. Clark, Thomas A. 1987. “The Suburbanization Process and Residential Segregation.” in Divided Neighborhoods: Changing Patterns of Racial Segregation, ed. Gary A. Tobin. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage. Coates, Ta-Neshisi. 2001. “Black and Blue; Brutality by Prince George’s County, Maryland, Police Officers.” Washington Monthly ( June 1) no. 6, vol. 33, p. 25. Cohn, D’Vera, and Richard Morin. 1991. “The Dispersion Decade: Census Analysis Shows Area Minorities Have Spread Out.” Washington Post, July 21, p. A1. Cole, Leonard A. 1976. Blacks in Power. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Conway, Sharon. 1978. “Sanitary Board Post Goes to Marvin L. Gay, P.G. Democrat.” Washington Post, February 9, p. Md. 2. ———, 1977. “Plan Offered to Modify Busing in P.G. County: Plan to Modify Busing.” Washington Post, March 17, p. Md.1. Cromwell, Michael, and Tracie Reddick. 1991. “P.G. Board Approves Multicultural Plan.” Washington Times, September 6, p. B4. Cumberland, John. 1967. “Economic Development in Prince George’s County, Maryland.” A Study Prepared for the Prince George’s County Governmental Study Commission, ( June 1967). Unpublished manuscript. Daly, Matthew. 1986. “Blacks Named to Top Jobs on P.G. Staff.” Washington Post, November 20, p. B7. Dent, David J. 1992. “The New Black Suburbs.” New York Times, June 14, sect. 6, p. 18.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

200

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

201

Diehl, Jackson, and Benjamin Weiser. 1979. “Tense Actors Play Out Two-Week P.G. Police Drama.” Washington Post, December 4, p. A9. ———. 1979. “Four P.G. Groups Plan to Oppose Police Chief Nominee.” Washington Post, November 28, p. C1. ———. 1979. “Hogan’s Nominee for Police Chief Lauded, Attacked on Virginia Record.” Washington Post, November 14, p. A1. Diehl, Jackson, and Warren Brown. 1979. “National NAACP Unit Votes to Suspend President in P.G.: NAACP Unit Votes against P.G. President.” Washington Post, May 18, p. B1. Duggan, Paul. 1992. “Williams, Eyeing the Hill, Still Goes Own Way.” Washington Post, February 13, p. C1. Eastman, Michael. 1980. “NAACP Opposes Plan to Reduce Busing in P.G.” Washington Post, April 1, p. B4. ———. 1980. “Latest P.G. School Busing Plan Fails to Reassure Its Opponents: New P.G. School Busing Plan Fails to Satisfy Opponents.” Washington Post, March 26, p. C1. ———. 1980. “P.G. Busing Unit’s Closed Meetings Stir Threat of Suit: Closed Meetings Draw Fire.” Washington Post, February 21, p. Md.1. ———. 1979. “P.G. Seeks Ways to Avoid Busing in Grade Schools: P.G. Orders Busing Study.” Washington Post, December 13, p. Md.1. Eaton, Susan E., and Elizabeth Crutcher. 1996. “Magnets, Media, and Mirages: Prince George’s County’s Miracle Cure.” in Dismantling Desegegation: The Quiet Reversal of Brown v. Board of Education, ed. Gary Orfield and Susan E. Eaton. New York: The New Press. Eisinger, Peter. 1984. “Black Mayors and the Politics of Racial Economic Advancement.” in Readings in Urban Politics: Past, Present, and Future, 2nd ed. Harlan Hahn and Charles Levine. New York: Longman. Eppes, Henry. 1975. Home Rule in Maryland Counties. Maryland Technical Advisory Service Bureau of Governmental Research, unpublished booklet. Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences. College Park: University of Maryland (November). Erie, Steven P. 1988. Rainbow’s End: Irish-Americans and the Dilemmas of Urban Machine Politics, 1840–1985. Berkeley: University of California Press. Feinstein, John. 1983. “Trotter’s Swearing In a Democrats’ ‘Lovefest.’ ” Washington Post, November 10, p. B1. ———. 1983. “Hughes’ Pick of Sheehan Sets Off Storm; Race an Issue in Fight to Fill P.G. Seat.” Washington Post, February 2, p. Md. 1

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

201

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

202

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. 1978. “Hogan Decides to Split Prince George’s Position.” Washington Post, December 26, p. B6. ———. 1978. “Rocky Transition; Black Top Aide Seen in P.G.; Black Personnel Chief Seen in P.G.” Washington Post, November 23, p. B1. Floyd, Bianca P. 1989. Records and Recollections: Early Black History in Prince George’s County, Maryland. Prince George’s County: Maryland-National Capital Park and Planning Commission, Department of Parks and Recreation, Prince George’s County, History Division ( January). Franklin, Ben A., 1982. “10 Years after Victory on Busing, NAACP Is Back in Courtroom.” New York Times, June 28, p. 12. Frazier, Lisa, and Ellen Nakashima. 1998. “Blacks’ Scores on Md. Tests Cause Concerns; Pr. George’s Seeks Probe of Possible Cultural Bias.” Washington Post, July 28, p. B01. Gale, Dennis E. 1987. Washington, D.C.: Inner-City Revitalization and Minority Suburbanization. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Gale, Dennis E., George Grier, and Eunice Grier. 1986. “Black and White Urban to Suburban Outmigrants: A Comparative Analysis, 1975–1980.” Center for Washington Area Studies, George Washington, Washington, D.C. University (May). Garreau, Joel. 1987. “Prince George’s County: Most Diverse Middle Class: The Emerging Cities: Blacks Success in the Suburbs.” Washington Post, December 1, p. A1. ———. 1987. “‘Clusters’: One Measure of Success: The Emerging Cities: Black Success in the Suburbs.” Washington Post, November 29, p. A16. ———. 1987. “A Middle Class without Precedent; Transcending Race Barriers and Living the American Dream: The Emerging Cities; Black Success in the Suburbs.” Washington Post, November 29, p. A1. Goldberg, Karen. 1990. “PG Urged to Help Blacks Make Grade.” Washington Times, August 22, p. B1. Goldstein, Amy. 1988. “Study Says that P.G. Led U.S. in Drop in White Students: Suburban Systems Now Showing Most Racial Change, Expert Says.” Washington Post, June 23, p. D1. Gordon, William R. 1984. American Libraries ( January):15:27. Granat, Diane. 2001. “Virginia vs. Maryland; Battle of the Suburbs.” Washingtonian (April):80. Green, Robert. 1985. Final Report on Desegregation of Prince George’s County Public Schools. Unpublished report. Submitted to Chief Judge Frank A. Kaufman, March 11.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

202

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

203

Greene, Daniel M. 1946. A Brief History of Prince George’s County in the Perspective of Three Centuries: Commemorating Its 250th Anniversary. Avondale, Md: Prince George’s County Chamber of Commerce. Greene, Marcia Slacum. 1999. “Moving In and Moving Up, Blacks Transform a County. Washington Post, November 22, p. A01. Grimshaw, William J. 1992. Bitter Fruit: Black Politics and the Chicago Machine, 1931– 1991. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Hackett, Darren C. 1989. “Prince George’s Student Suspensions Drop; Blacks Still Disciplined More.” Washington Post, August 8, p. D1. Hanks, Lawrence J. 1987. The Struggle for Black Political Empowerment in Three Georgia Counties. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press. Harrigan, John J. 1993. Political Change in the Metropolis. 5th ed. New York: HarperCollins. Harriston, Keith. 1990. “Prince George’s Teaching of Black History Decried at Hearing.” Washington Post, February 16, p. D1. ———. 1986. “Blacks’ Political Fortunes on the Rise in P.G.” Washington Post, December 15, p. B1. Harriston, Keith, and Debbie M. Price. 1989. “Glendening Supports Adding Civilian to Police Review Board.” Washington Post, July 28, p. C1. Harriston, Keith, and Michele L. Norris. 1990. “Blacks Vent Anger at Glendening; Murphy Dispute Opens Old Wounds.” Washington Post, March 8, p. D1. Henry, Neil. 1979. “Martin Suspended As NAACP Chief in P.G.: National NAACP Chairman Suspends Martin in P.G. Washington Post, March 9, p. A1. ———. 1979. “Two Black Leaders Symbolize P.G. Busing Dispute: Martin: ‘New Plan Worth the Risk,’ ” Washington Post, March 8, p. B1. ———. 1979. “Two Black Leaders Symbolize P.G. Busing Dispute: Vaughns: ‘We Went Through Hell.’ ” Washington Post, March 8, p. B1. ———. 1979. “School’s Attorney Denies He Duped P.G. Black Leader: Deception Is Denied in Busing Agreement.” Washington Post, March 4, p. B1. Henry, Neil, and Thomas Morgan. 1979. “P.G. Busing Agreement Prompts Move to Oust NAACP Head.” Washington Post, March 1, p. C1. Herring, Cedric, ed. 1997. African Americans and the Public Agenda: The Paradoxes of Public Policy. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Hill, Retha. 1994. “Curry’s Victory Caps a Historic Shift of Power.” Washington Post, November 9, p. A38.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

203

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

204

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. 1994. “P.G. Schools Want to End Busing: Shift to Neighborhood Schools Would Start in 96–97.” Washington Post, July 2, p. A1. ———. “Schools Stare into Fund Gap: Class Size Reduction May Be in Jeopardy.” Washington Post, May 24, p. A1. ———. 1994. “P.G. Goes the Extra Mile to Find Minority Teachers.” Washington Post, May 4, p. A1. ———. 1994. “Student Test Scores Show Modest Gains.” Washington Post, February 24, p. M1. ———. 1988. “Schaefer Names Two Blacks to District Court; P.G. Officials Say Appointments Help Racial Balance.” Washington Post, May 3, p. B4. ———. 1987. “P.G. Blacks Debate Role of Leader; Community’s Varied Political Agenda Reflects Growing Diversity.” Washington Post, December 21, p. A1. ———. 1987. “Hilda Pemberton Aims for Consensus; P.G. Council Leader Faces Fire on Issue.” Washington Post, November 23, p. D1. ———. 1987. “Blacks Tilt Glendening Toward Choice for Bench.” Washington Post, November 5, p. M1. ———. 1987. “P.G. Falls Short of Its Minority Goals.” Washington Post, September 8, p. B3. ———. 1987. “Heat Appears to Soften Bonds between Allies in P.G.” Washington Post, July 30 (Virginia Weekly) p. M1. ———. 1987. “Blacks Polish Political Clout in P.G., Montgomery Showdown Sends Message, Leaders Say.” Washington Post, July 13, p. D1. Hill, Retha, and Keith Harriston. 1988. “Glendening Appoints Two County Attorneys; Action Meant to Appease Two Political Groups.” Washington Post, May 6, p. D6. Hirshson, Stanley. 1962. Farewell to the Bloody Shirt. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Hitchcock, Will. 1987. “Fairmount Heights May Be Designated as a Historic District.” Washington Post, March 5, p. Md. 1. Ifill, Gwen. 1985. “Glendening Reshapes County Commissions.” Washington Post, June 7, p. C3. ———. 1984. “Patronage Power Sought in P.G.; Sponsors of Legislation Want More Posts for Blacks.” Washington Post, November 19, B3. Jones, Mack H. 1978. “Black Political Empowerment in Atlanta: Myth and Reality.” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Sciences 439 (September): 90–117.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

204

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

205

Judd, Dennis R., and Todd Swanstrom. 1994. City Politics: Private Power and Public Policy. New York: HarperCollins College Publishers. Kapsidelis, Tom. 1985. “Court Upheld in Maryland School Case.” United Press International, March 29, AM Cycle. Karnig, Albert K., and Susan Welch. 1980. Black Representation and Urban Policy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. ———. 1979. “The Impact of Black Elected Officials on Urban Expenditures and Intergovernmental Revenue.” in Urban Policy Making, ed. Dale Roger Marshall. Beverly Hills: Sage. Keech, William R. 1968. The Impact of Negro Voting: The Role of the Vote in the Quest for Equality. Chicago: Rand McNally. Key, V.O., Jr. 1949. Southern Politics: In State and Nation. New York: Vintage Books. Kluger, Richard. 1975. Simple Justice. New York: Vintage Books. Koenig, Sarah. 2001. “Broadening Horizons Temper Curry’s Temper.” Baltimore Sun, May 13, p. 1A. Leff, Lisa. 1993. “The Turner Commission: Schools; More Parental Choice, Privatization Suggested.” Washington Post, September 30, (Maryland Weekly) p. M1. ———. 1993. “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma.” Washington Post, September 14, p. A1 (part three of a three-part series). ———. 1993. “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma.” Washington Post, September 13, p. A1 (part two of a three-part series). ———. 1993. “Blacks and Busing: Prince George’s Ongoing Dilemma.” Washington Post, September 12, p. A1 (part one of a three-part series). ———. 1992. “Diversity Tests Schools: Area Educators Struggle to Balance Curriculum.” Washington Post, November 28, p. A1. ———. 1992. “Test Gap Widens in P.G.: Black Pupils Trail Whites in New Exam.” Washington Post, January 14, p. B1. ———. 1991. “382 Bused Students To Be Reassigned.” Washington Post, May 16, p. A1. ———. 1991. “P.G. Group Tells School Board to End Disparities in Spending.” Washington Post, May 2, p. C1. ———. 1991. “Space, Not Race, Keeps P.G. Busing Hundreds.” Washington Post, April 21, p. D1. ———. 1991. “Search Tests P.G. Board’s Sense of Direction.” Washington Post, April 15, p. D3. Leff, Lisa, and Eugene Meyer. 1992. “New Schools Proposed to End Busing in P.G.: Plan Would Focus on Inner-Beltway Towns.” Washington Post, September 13, p. B1.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

205

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

206

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Lipton, Eric. 1998. “School System Beset by Problems; Among Them Are Poor Test Scores, Uncertified Teachers, Leadership.” Washington Post, June 21, p. A01. ———. 1998. “The Struggle of a County’s Schools,” Washington Post, June 21, p. A1. Litvan, Laura M. 1991. “Prince George’s Activists Vow to Fight County on School Cuts.” Washington Times, December 4, p. B3. Maraniss, David A. 1978. “Old Allies, New Images Compete in 25th District.” Washington Post, August 23, p. A1. Maraniss, David, and Judith Valente. 1979. “Peace Mission Fails; Hogan Rift with Delegates Widens As Peace Talks Fail.” Washington Post, March 30, p. C1. Matthews, Jay. 2001. “County Schools Make Quiet Improvements; Amid Turmoil, Programs Raise Scores.” Washington Post, August 23, p. T03. Matthews, Jay, and Nurith C. Aizenman. 2001. “County Schools Struggle to Lure, Retain Teachers.” Washington Post, August 23, p. T03. McAdam, Doug. 1982. Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency, 1930– 1970. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. McQueen, Michele. 1983. “PG Democrats Set to Pick Successor to Senator Broadwater.” Washington Post, October 20, p. C1. ———. 1983. “Perry Selected to Fill P.G. Delegate Vacancy.” Washington Post, February 12, p. B1. McQueen, Michele, and Judith Valente. 1983. “Glendening Appointments Anger P.G. Politicians.” Washington Post, July 20, p. Md. 1. Merida, Kevin. 2000. “All the Comforts of Home.” Washington Post, July 20, p. W05. Meszoly, Robin. 1979. “An Acting Chief of Police Named for Pr. George’s.” Washington Post, June 30, p. C1. ———. 1979. “Several P.G. School Board Members Seeking Action to Remove Chairman: P.G. School Board Chairman Receiving Pressure to Resign.” Washington Post, June 2, p. B1. Meyer, Eugene L. 1992. “In 4th, It’s ‘Wynn, Wynn, Wynn.’ ” Washington Post, March 4, p. A1. ———. 1990. “Glendening Names Top Aides, Fills 12 Other Key Positions.” Washington Post, November 20, p. B3. ———. 1990. “Snub on Slate Sparks Wynn–Miller Contest.” Washington Post, August 23, p. M10. ———. 1983. “Glendening Appoints Four to Powerful Panels.” Washington Post, July 14, p. C4. ———. 1983. “P.G.’s Corrections Department Gets a New Boss.” Washington Post, June 18, p. B5.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

206

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

207

Meyer, Eugene L., and Michele L. Norris. 1990. “P.G. Blacks Rejected Racial Campaigns.” Washington Post, September 13, p. C1. Meyer, Eugene, and Sandra Gregg. 1983. “Surprise Choice for P.G. Chief Beat Out Controversial Candidate.” Washington Post, September 1, p. Md. 1. Montgomery, Lori. 2001. “Md. GOP Wants to Break Up Districts; State’s Diversity Isn’t Reflected in Legislature.” Washington Post, September 5, p. B01. Moore, Ronnie, and Marvin Rich. 1972. “When Blacks Take Office.” Progressive, 2001. 36:5 (May):31. Nakamura, David. 2001. “Pr. George’s School Figures Withheld.” Washington Post, July 13, p. B07. ———. 2001. “School Budget Cuts Anger Parents in Pr. George’s.” Washington Post, June 7, p. B02. Naylor, Janet. 1990. “Black Males’ Slide Starts in the 4th Grade.” Washington Post, August 21, p. B1. Nelson, William E., Jr. 1990. “Black Mayoral Leadership: A Twenty-Year Perspective.” The National Political Science Review 2:188–195. Neufeld, Matt. 1990. “Angry Murphy Says He’ll Quit P.G. Schools.” Washington Times, March 7, p. B1. ———. 1990. “P.G. Says Criticism of Murphy Groundless.” Washington Times, March 5, p. B3. ———. 1990. “P.G. Council Chooses Bell As New Chairman.” Washington Times, January 24, p. B1. Norris, Michele L. 1992. “4th District Nod Goes to Wynn.” Washington Post, March 4, p. A1. ———. 1992. “Three Candidates for Md. House Seat Target Loyal Cores.” Washington Post, February 29, p. C1. ———. 1991. “Broadwater House Race Is 2nd Comeback Attempt.” Washington Post, November 22, p. C1. ———. 1991. “Black P.G. Clerics Decide to Endorse House Candidate.” Washington Post, November 14, p. D1. ———. 1991. “Montgomery–P.G. Border Could Become Battle Line in MajorityBlack District.” Washington Post, November 11, p. C1. ———. 1991. “Downside For P.G. Blacks: Too Many Want Open Seat.” Washington Post, October 6, p. B1. ———. 1991. “Pr. George’s Raises Tax Rate for the First Time in 13 Years.” Washington Post, May 30, p. A1.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

207

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

208

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. 1991. “Appointment Tests Prince George’s Democrats.” Washington Post, March 25, p. D3. ———. 1991. “P.G. School Board Urged to Keep Search Wide Open.” Washington Post, February 19, p. B3. ———. 1990. “Panel Charges Prince George’s Schools of Failure of Black Males.” Washington Post, August 21, p. A1. ———. 1990. “Emotions Run High at Protest of Murphy’s Contract Offer.” Washington Post, March 9, p. C1. ———. 1989. “P.G. Chief Creates Panel to Raise Black Male’s Progress.” Washington Post, December 20, p. D1. ———. 1988. “Prince George’s Schools Urged to Cut Suspensions of Black Students.” Washington Post, December 15, p. B11. Palen, J. John. 1995. The Suburbs. New York: McGraw-Hill. Parker, Frank R. 1990. Black Votes Count: Political Empowerment in Mississippi after 1965. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. Perry, Huey. 1990. “Black Politics and Mayoral Leadership in Birmingham and New Orleans.” The National Political Science Review 2:154–160. Pierre, Robert. 1994. “Plan to End P.G. Busing Wins Support, but Officials Wary of Cost.” Washington Post, August 14, p. A1. Piven, Frances Fox, and Richard A. Cloward. 1979. Poor People’s Movements. New York: Vintage Books. Preston, Michael B. 1990. “Big-City Black Mayors: An Overview.” The National Political Science Review 2:131–137. Price, Debbie. 1990. “Seven Appointed to P.G. Review Panel.” Washington Post, November 30, p. B7. ———. 1990. “First Black Officers Promoted to Major on P.G. Police Force.” Washington Post, January 19, p. C1. ———. 1990. “Police Chief Retires in Pr. George’s: Flaherty’s Six Years Marked by Growth and Racial Tension.” Washington Post, January 3, p. A1. Reed, Adolph. 1999. Stirrings in the Jug: Black Politics in the Post–Segregation Era. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Reel, Monte. 2001. “Blacks Search for Voice in Charles; Population Leap Not Reflected in Political Leadership.” Washington Post, April 8, p. C01. Richburg, Keith B. 1982. “Blacks’ Diversity Foils Bid for Unity in Maryland Assembly.” Washington Post, April 5, p. B1.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

208

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

209

Saulny, Susan. 1999. “The Seeds of Suburban Renewal: Activists, New Funds Usher in Revival of Areas Inside the Beltway.” Washington Post, January 13, p. M16. Schattschneider, E.E. 1983. The Semi-Sovereign People: A Realist’s View of Democracy in America. Chicago: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. Schwartzman, Paul. 2001. “Curry Wants Legacy of 25 New Schools.” Washington Post, May 2, p. B05. ———. 2000. “Pr. George’s Official Avoids Fallout From Police Scandals.” Washington Post, November 5, p. C01. Shapiro, Margaret. 1980. “Crowning a Councilman; Naming Councilman Shows Blacks Gaining Some Clout in P.G. Washington Post, September 24, p. C1. ———. 1980. “NAACP Threatens to Reopen P.G. School Lawsuit: NAACP Weighs Reopening P.G. Segregation Suit.” Washington Post, June 26, p. C1. ———. 1980. “Pr. George’s Faces Busing Case Renewal: NAACP Seeks to Reopen Prince George’s Busing Case.” Washington Post, June 26, p. A1. ———. 1980. “P.G. Board Approves Plan to Reduce Busing: P.G. School Board Votes to Reduce Racial Busing.” Washington Post, April 11, p. B1. ———. 1979. “P.G. School Board Rejects Plan to Cut Back Busing; P.G. School Board Rejects Cutback in Busing.” Washington Post, September 14, p. A1. Shapiro, Margaret, and Jackson Diehl. 1979. “Council Rejects Hogan’s Nominee for Police Chief.” Washington Post, December 4, p. A1. Shapiro, Margaret and Leon Wynter. 1981. “Pr. George’s Faces Busing Case Renewal.” Washington Post, September 2, p. A1. Simmons, Warren, and Michael Grady. 1990. Black Male Achievement: From Peril to Promise — Report of the Superintendent’s Advisory Committee on Black Male Achievement. Prince George’s County, Md: Prince George’s County Public Schools (August). Singletary, Michelle. 2000. “Talkin Money; Evidence of an Eviction Triggers Thoughts about County’s Dichotomy.” Washington Post, January 5, p. M07. Sonenshein, Raphael. 1990. “Biracial Coalitions in Big Cities: Why They Succeed, Why They Fail.” Pp. in Racial Politics in American Cities, ed. Rufus P. Browning, Dale Rogers Marshall, and David H. Tabb. New York: Longman. Spinner, Jackie. 2000. “Shift in Leaders Reflects Changes in Population; Myriad Challenges Usher in the New Century.” Washington Post, January 5, p. M13. Staff. 1987. “School Board Actions.” Washington Post, June 4, p. M4. ———. 1982. “Regional News.” Proprietary to the United Press International, November 13, p. B2.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

209

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

210

BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. 1979. “Abstracts.” New York Times, April 1, p. 46. Stefanova, Kristina. 2001. “Development Falls Short; Anacostia Housing Doesn’t Lure Businesses.” Washington Times, May 6, p. A1. Stewart, Rhonda. 1999. “Living the Dream.” Emerge 10:10 (September 30): 50. Stone, Clarence N. 1990. “Race and Regime in Atlanta.” in Racial Politics in American Cities, ed. Rufus P. Browning, Dale Rogers Marshall, and David H. Tabb. New York: Longman. ———. 1989. Regime Politics: Governing Atlanta 1946–1988. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas. Thompson, Vernon. 1979. “P.G. School, NAACP Leaders Agree to Curb Busing.” Washington Post, February 28, p. A1. ———. 1978. “NAACP Leaders Unhappy with Turnout at P.G. Protest.” Washington Post, February 18, p. C3. ———. 1977. “Blacks Form Power Base: County’s Blacks Form Coalition.” Washington Post, March 5, p. D1. Thompson, Vernon, and Neil Henry. 1979. “He Was Duped, Says Prince George’s NAACP President: NAACP Chief Says He Was Duped into Prince George’s School Talks.” Washington Post, March 3, p. A1. Thornton, Alvin, and Eva Wells Chunn. 1989. “Desegregating with Magnet and One-Race Elementary and Secondary Schools.” Urban League Review, Vol. II, Nos. 1 & 2, Winter 1987–1988, pp. 136–157. Tofani, Loretta. 1981. “P.G. Gets Black Deputy Chief; P.G.’s Civilian Aide Will Assume Duties As Personnel Head.” Washington Post, May 6, p. C1. Travis, Toni-Michelle C. 1990. “Boston: The Unfinished Agenda.” in Racial Politics in American Cities, ed. Browning et al. New York: Longman. United States Commission on Civil Rights. 1976. A Long Day’s Journey into Light: School Desegregation in Prince George’s County. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, Office of Program and Policy Review (March). U.S. Bureau of the Census. Census of the Population, Summary Social Economic, and Housing Characteristics 1990 reports. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. U.S. Bureau of the Census. Housing Tenure by Race: 1970, 1980 & 1990 reports. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. U.S. Bureau of the Census. Census of the Population, Housing Characteristics: Homeowner and Renter Characteristics, 1970, 1980, & 1990 reports. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. U.S. Bureau of the Census. Census of the Population, Composition of the Population by Counties: 1960, 1970, 1980, 1990, & 2000 reports. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

210

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Bibliography

211

U.S. Bureau of the Census. Construction Reports, Residential Building Permits 1960, 1970, 1980, & 1990 reports. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office. Virta, Alan. 1984. Prince George’s County: A Pictorial History. Norfolk, Va.: The Donning Company. Vobejda, Barbara. 1985. “Consultant May Have Answer for P.G. Schools: Yale Psychiatrist Has Demonstrated Success in Raising Performance of Minority Students.” Washington Post, August 5, p. C1. ———. 1985. “Black Prince George’s Students Lag in Tests.” Washington Post, July 30, p. A1. ———. 1985. “Black P.G. Group Opposes Busing: Nearby Schools Preferred, Even if Attended Mostly by One Race.” Washington Post, April 15, p. D5. Weiser, Benjamin. 1979. “Hey Chief—A Refrain of the 1st Day on the Job; 1st Day Refrain: ‘Hey Chief.’ ” Washington Post, December 30, p. C1. Weiser, Benjamin, and Margaret Shapiro. 1979. “P.G. Groups Unite to Fight Hiring of Police Nominee.” Washington Post, November 29, p. C1. Whitlock, Craig, and David S. Falls. 2001. “Police Shot Minorities in Greater Numbers; Blacks, Latinos Make Up 90% of Cases.” Washington Post, July 5, p. A01. ———. 2001. “Officers Killed With Impunity; Officials Ruled Shootings Justified in Every Case—Even of Unarmed Citizens.” Washington Post, July 1, p. A01. Wirt, Frederick M., Benjamin Walter, Francine F. Rabinovitz, and Deborah R. Hensler. 1972. On the City’s Rim: Politics and Policy in Suburbia. Lexington: D.C. Heath and Company. Wynter, Leon. 1983. “P.G. Black Officials Rallying to Jackson.” Washington Post, December 26, p. C1. ———. 1983. “Guidelines Set for Schools’ Racial Balance.” Washington Post, September 9, p. B5. ———. 1982. “Black Expected to Fill Vacancy on P.G. Board.” Washington Post, November 24, p. B4. ———. 1982. “Prince George’s Black Ministers Explain Shift to GOP.” Washington Post, March 5, p. C5. ———. 1982. “Choice in Prince George’s; 12 Black Ministers Switch to GOP.” Washington Post, February 17, p. B4. ———. 1981. “The Black Vote’s Time Has Come.” Washington Post, April 23, p. Md. 1. ———. 1981. “The Changing Suburbs; Prince George’s White Flight and Black Progress.” Washington Post, April 9, p. Md. 1.

32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

211

8/13/02, 9:47 PM


32903_SP_JOH_Ref_199-212

212

8/13/02, 9:47 PM

Index

Adams, Edward, appointment of, 101 affirmative action, 10 African American appointments, characterization of, 91 African American community: busing controversy, 114, 115; Broadwater-Trotter political division in, 69; demand for African American police chief, 103–104; demand for African American superintendent, 116; demand for civilian representation on the police board, 100; and Democratic Central Committee, 80; demonstration against African American state legislators, 74; diverse goals and interests of, 1, 86, 100, 112, 137; disunity on education policy, 127, 128–129; education policy consensus, 134, 161; establishment of an African American agenda, 100; and governing coalition, 131; influence on African American appointments, 99, 104; influence over Parris Glendening appointments, 99; and NAACP, 111; police brutality in, 100, 103, 157, 158; minority procurement bill, 103; as a monolith, 1; opposition to busing, 130; opposition to Lawrence Hogan, 92; opposition to Jerry Perry appointment, 102; political

division in, 65, 73; socioeconomic diversity of, 126, 129, 130, 131, 145, 146–148, 156, 161; and Sasscer machine, 88; school desegregation order, 110; as voting bloc, 67, 91, 135 African American Democratic Council, influence on African American representation, 83 African American elected officials, 9– 11, 135, call for civilian review board, 158; characterization of, 84–85; disunity among, 30, 74, 86, 87, 103, 105, 106, 111, 126, 137, 141; disunity on education policy, 127, 128–129; diverse constituency of, 129, 140; impact of, 141; impact on educational programs and initiatives, 126, 127–128; influence on African American appointments, 104; and NAACP, 111; as members of Parris Glendening or Mike Miller camp, 73, 80, 82, 86, 88, 133, 159; unity among, 84–85, 136, 159, 161 African American Political Incorporation, 1, challenges to, 5; definition of, 5, 8, 107, 131, 139; impact of external pressures on, 138; impact of governing coalition strength, stability and practice on, 136–138; impact of

213

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

213

8/13/02, 10:15 PM

214

INDEX

African American Political Incorporation (continued) organizational resources on, 136; impact of population size on, 132–134; impact of socioeconomic resources on, 134–135; impediments to, 131; origins of term, 7; versus representation, 5–6, 87 African American representation, 132– 133, 139, obstacles to, 84; also see African American elected officials and African American: representation African American suburban political incorporation, 162, external factors, 8; internal factors, 8; model of, 17, 141–142; See also political incorporation African American suburbanization, factors precipitating, 3–4; historical context of, 3–5; impact on education policy, 126, impact on white migration, 133 African American: academic achievement, 50, 52, 124, 153, 154; affluence, 46, 47, 145, 156; appointments, 85; and Democratic Party, 60, 66, 72, 88; dissatisfaction over appointments, 97; dissatisfaction over economic development, 97; division on busing, 119–120; education attainment, 47, 54, 55, 56, 153; employment characteristics, 54, 55; family poverty, 46, 53, 54, 56; housing characteristics, 53; income characteristics, 54, 56; male students, 50, 51; migration patterns, 5, 30, 31, 36, 37, 38, 41, 148; mobilization efforts, 80–83, 87, 102–104, 136; obstacles to political representation, 105; occupational charac-

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

214

teristics, 47; opposition to Edward Felegy racial balance modifications, 118; opposition to Hilda Pemberton, 98; opposition to Robert Potter reappointment, 98; owner/renter occupancy rates, 48; participation in governing coalition, 105; potential political ascendancy, 74; population size, 132–133, 145–148, 160; push for economic development, 98; representation, 82, 97, 132–133, 141, 159; and Republican Party, 60, 62, 64; socioeconomic characteristics, 46, 48, 49, 52, 56, 57, 131, 134, 156; socioeconomic comparisons, 47; socioeconomic disparities, 45, 47, 49; student achievement disparities, 50, 51, 52; student population, 50, 71, 94, 109, 114–115, 116, 118, 119, 125, 153; student suspensions, 50, 51; support for civilian representation on the police board, 103; support for neighborhood schools, 108; support for Jesse Jackson, 73; support for slate, 137; teachers, 51; unified action, 2, 102; voter registration, 69, 84 Agnew, Spiro, 64, conviction of, 33 Alliance of Black Elected Officials, 100, and Democratic Party structure, 77; disunity among, 88; influence on African American representation, 83 American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), 113, opposition to busing advisory committee plan, 114; participation in school desegregation suit, 109

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index Anne Arundel County, 41, zoning practices, 33 Arrington, Henry, WSSC appointment, 99 Atlanta SMSA, African American population, 39 Bachrach, Peter, and Morton Baratz, 6, 139, 183n Baggett, Jesse, 33 Baltimore, Maryland, African American socioeconomic characteristics, 56, 57; migration patterns from, 36; zoning practices, 33 Barnes, Claude, 185n, differences in poor and middle class African American political empowerment, 14 Beander, Beverly, election of, 76; support for Jerome Clark, 117 Bell, JoAnn T., 71 Benson, JoAnne, characterization of, 86 Bieniasz, Susan B., busing modification plan, 113; opposition to Norman Saunders, 113 Bigelow, Claire, resignation from busing advisory committee, 113 Biracial coalitions, 135, 136, impact of 13–14; 138–139; overthrow of Sasscer machine, 85, 88, 138; also see governing coalitions and liberal whites Black Ad Hoc Committee, 65, African American mobilization, 64; influence on African American representation, 83, 137 Black Coalition Against Unnecessary Busing, 110, 115 black community, see African American community

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

215

215

Black Democratic Council, 100 black interests, Adolph Reed on, 6; origins of, 7 Black Male Student Achievement Program, 126, funding of, 127; initiation of, 124 Black Police Association, support for David B. Mitchell nomination, 101, 103 Black, Alonzo, 147 Blue Ribbon Selection Committee, 28, Blue Ribbon slate of, 28, 65, 68 Board of Education, 24–25, African Americans on, 68, 69, 71, 74, 76, 79, 80, 81, 87, 94, 97, 133, 159–169; appeal of Kaufman’s order, 115; approval of busing advisory committee plan, 114; establishment of advisory committee to study busing, 113; impact on educational programs and initiatives, 126; resistance to desegregation, 140; school desegregation case appeal, 110; opposition to busing, 120; superintendent vote controversy, 117; support for Magnet and Milliken II schools, 116 Borne, Judge J. Franklin, influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83 Botts, Samuel, appointment of, 97 Bowie State College Convention of African American People, 73 Breakfast Club, 29, 68 Brentwood, Maryland, 34 Broadwater, Tommie, 27, on African American support for Parris Glendening, 96; and Arthur King political battle, 65, 66, 135; as boss of African

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

216

INDEX

Broadwater, Tommie (continued) American Politics, 68, 86; call for special meeting, 111; characterization of, 66, 135, 137; characterization of Sasscer machine, 68; controversy over Jerry Perry appointment, 94, 102; and Decatur Trotter political battle, 69, 86; and Democratic Central Committee, 29; and Democratic Party, 66, 67, 69, 137; on Democratic Party slate, 70, 88; fraud conviction, 72; Glenarden City Council, 65; impact on African American appointments, 66, 67, 68, 104, 135; impact on African American vote, 70, 135; impact on the election of African American officials, 70, 135; on need for African American power broker, 100; opposition to Lawrence Hogan, 92; ; opposition to Steny Hoyer, 95; state senate election defeat, 75; support for Democratic Party slate, 105; support for Roy Dabney appointment, 93; support for Parris Glendening, 67; support for Steny Hoyer, 67, 70 Brookings Institution Center on Urban and Metropolitan Policy, 196n, “A Region Divided” report, 155–156 Brooks, Lawrence L., 92 Brown v. Board of Education, 16, 109 Brown, Steve, influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83 Browning, Rufus P., Dale Rogers Marshall and David Tabb, 183n, 184n, 185n, 196n, impact of biracial coalitions, 13, 138, 139; on middle range of African American political

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

216

incorporation, 7; optimal conditions for African American political incorporation, 12 Burch, Catherine, Multicultural Education resolution, 124 Button, James, 184n, on African American disunity, 12, 13; impact of African American elected officials, 10; impact of African American mobilization and protest, 12, 14; impact of population size, 9, 134 California Achievement Test, 51, 52, 124; Callcott, George, 186n, 188n Callow, Charles, election of, 68 Calvert County, 41 Capital Beltway/ Interstate 95/495, 41, 49, as dividing line in African American community, 148, 157; as dividing line between the African American and white community, 39 Capitol Heights, 75 Cardoza, Helen Bell, 62 Carmichael, Stokely, and Charles Hamilton, 185n, impact of coalitions with liberal whites, 13–14 Caselli, Angelo, opposition to Norman Saunders, 113 Charles County, 41, African American migration, 148 Civil Rights Act of 1875, 61 Clark, Jerome, deputy superintendent appointment, 117 class, and candidate selection, 66, 75, 135, 137; impact of, 57, 63, 84,

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index 107, 131–132, 146–148; impact on education policy, 112, 119, 129 Coalition on African American Affairs, influence on African American representation, 83 Coalitions, impact of, 13–15; with liberal whites, 13 Cohesiveness, measurement of, 18 Cole Leonard, 184n Comer, James, description of Comer plan, 123 Committee of 100, 25, call for increased education funding, 122; call for increased taxes, 121; Comprehensive Test of Basic Skills, student performance on, 52, 154 Cosmopolitan Democratic Club, influence on African American representation, 83; impact on African American mobilization, 64; County Council, 24–25, African Americans on, 68, 69, 71, 74, 76, 79, 80, 81, 87, 97, 133, 159–160 court system, external pressure from, 16 court-ordered busing, 38, Cousins, Mayor, influence on African American representation, 83 Cumberland, John H., 31, 185n Currie, Ulysses, 75, election of, 74, Curry, Wayne, Black Male Student Achievement Program, 124, 126, 127; criticism of poor African American in-migration, 156; election of, 1, 79–80, 89; impact on economic development, 155;

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

217

217 school construction plan, 148; second term of, 145, 147; support for Jesse Jackson, 73; unified agenda of, 159

Dabney, Roy I., County Council appointment, 71, 93; M-NCP&PC appointment, 96 Davis, James, 76 Davis, Thomas, Department of Personnel appointment, 94 Dean, Anthony, 76 Dekalb County, Georgia, class segregation in, 158; public service challenges in, 158; Vernon Jones election, 158; Dembrow, Dana Lee, Fourth Congressional District candidacy, 78–79 Democratic Central Committee, 25, 28, Carolyn J. B. Howard appointment rift, 76; Roy Dabney appointment controversy, 93; Jerry Perry appointment controversy, 96, 102; support for Decatur Trotter, 72 Democratic Party, African American participation in, 61, 62, 88; and Tommie Broadwater, 66; and Arthur King, 67; fragmentation of, 30, 66, 139, 140; slate of, 70, 71; and Trotter-Broadwater race, 75 Democratic Sample Ballot, 29 Democrats “90,” 29 desegregation order, Prince George’s County, 2–3 Diggs, Charles, support for Jesse Jackson, 73 Dillard, June, on Hilda Pemberton, 98–99 District Heights, Maryland, 75

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

218

INDEX

Donavan, Mike, 95, controversy over Jerry Perry nomination, 94–95 Ducker, T. Howard, 26, membership on busing advisory committee, 114; support for William Martin, 112 Eaton, Susan E., and Elizabeth Crutcher, 194n, criticism of John Murphy tenure, 117; on effectiveness of school reforms, 124 Economic Development Corporation/ Commission, 24–25, 32, 35 Education policy, end of desegregation order, 148; measurement of 18; significance of, 2, 107–109 Education programs, limitations of, 121 elections, 1994, 44, 79 Emanuel, Meyer (Marty), 27 Eugene, Doris, support for John Murphy, 117 external pressures, impact of, 16, 138 Exum, Nathaniel, election of, 68 Fair Housing Act of 1968, impact on African American suburbanization, 4–5 Fairfax County, Virginia zoning practices of, 31 Farrell, John, police brutality controversy, 158 Farrington, Tom, 64, and Democratic Central Committee, 65 Fauntroy, Walter, 95 Federal government mandates, external pressure from, 16

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

218

Federal Housing Administration (FHA) loans, bias against African Americans, 4; impact on suburbanization, 3 Feeny, Edward J., school busing modification proposal, 110 Felegy, Edward M., modification of racial balances, 118; school superintendent appointment, 117 Flaherty, Michael J., 101, appointment of, 96 Fletcher, James, election of, 76 Floyd, Bianca, 185n, 188n Fourth District Congressional race, 77–79 Francis, Charles E. Jr., 71 Francois, Francis B., 27 funding disparities, between neighborhood, Magnet, and Milliken II schools, 122 Gale, Dennis, George Grier, and Eunice Grier, 187n Garrett, James, membership on busing advisory committee, 114 Gay, Marvin L., WSSC appointment, 92 Glendening, Parris, 30, 86, African American appointments, 94, 96, 97, 99, 101, 102; alteration of boards and commissions, 97; call for an end to desegregation order, 118–119; call for major school construction, 118–119; civilian representation on the police board, 100; controversy over David Mitchell nomination, 101; diverse constituencies of, 102–103; on diverse goals in the African

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index American community, 100; election victory over Floyd Wilson, 76; gubernatorial race, 121; and Mike Miller split, 73, 80, 82, 86, 133, 137; minority procurement bill, 98; and John Murphy contract controversy, 74, 116; position within the Democratic Party, 72; on school construction, 118; tax increase for education, 121 governing coalition, 24–25; African American participation in, 105, 161; changes within, 59, 161; influence on African American appointments, 91; resistance to sharing power, 131, 133, 139; strength, stability and practice of, 15–16; 136–138, 140; unity within, 159; white composition of, 161 Green Report, recommendations of, 115–116 Green, Robert, 193n Greene, Daniel, 185n Grimshaw, William, 185n, on African American co-optation, 15–16 Gullett, William W., 27, 92, election of, 66 Habib, Gregory, death of, 100–101 Hanks, Lawrence, 184n, impact of population size, 9 Harvey, Illinois, 3 Hawkins, Jeremiah Dr., 61, 62 Hogan, Lawrence, 110, African American appointments, 92, 104; election of, 69; James Taylor nomination, 103; opposition from African American community; opposition from Tommie Broadwater,

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

219

219

92; opposition to Tommie Broadwater, 104; and Tax Reform Initiative by Marylanders (TRIM), 154; Thomas Davis appointment, 94 Hooks, Benjamin, criticism of William Martin, 111; William Martin suspension, 112–113 Howard, Carolyn J. B., appointment of, 76 Hoyer, Steny, 27, 64, 65, 66, 67, 85, Abdul Alim Muhammad challenge, 76; Tommie Broadwater opposition, 95; conversation with Reverend Perry Smith, 71; impact on 1986 State’s Attorney election, 100; and Reuben Spellman political battle, 70–71 Hughes, Harry, 97, African American appointments, 94 Human Relations Commission, 63 Hutchinson, Fred, Ad Hoc Committee on Quality Education, 127; election of, 76 Jackson, Charlie, and Democratic Central Committee, 64; and Democratic Party, 67 Jackson, Jesse Reverend, 1984 Presidential Primary, 59, 73, 80, 136 Jennings, Samuel L.R., 61 Johns, Bonnie, 71, 72, 73, Board of Education appointment, 68; opposition to busing modifications, 113 Johnson, G. R. Hovey, circuit court appointment, 94 Johnson, Jack, 147, election of, 80 Johnson, Kenneth, appointment of, 76

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

220

INDEX

Johnson, Sarah, Board of Education appointment, 71, 94; Multicultural Education resolution, 124, 128; push for African American curriculum, 125 Johnson, Terrance, 93 Jones, Christine, election of, 72 Jones, Mack H., 183n, on political power, 5, 6, 139 Jones, Prince, death of, 157 Judd, Dennis, and Todd Swanstrom, 183n Karnig, Albert, 184n Kaufman, Frank A., 116, 120, alteration of student ratios, 115; school desegregation order, 109– 110 Keech, William, 184n, impact of population size, 9, 134 Kelly, Charles R., police chief nomination, 92 Kelly, Winfield M. Jr., 104, white backlash against, 69, 110 Kettering, Maryland, 75 Key, V. O. Jr., 186n, 196n, factionalism of one-party states, 15, 26, 140 King, Arthur, 64, 65, characterization of, 66, 135, 137; and Democratic Party, 67; and Tommie Broadwater political battle, 65, 66, 135; 1966 election, 60, 62 King, Hester V., and NAACP, 62 Kluger, Richard, 192n Largo, Maryland, 75 Lashley, Marilyn, and M. N. Jackson, 185n,

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

220

Lawlah, Gloria, 29, characterization of, 86; election of, 74, victory over Democratic Party slate, 75 League of Women Voters, 27 liberal whites, 44, 135, 136, 138, and Democratic Party structure, 64; overthrow of Sasscer machine, 85; see also biracial coalitions and governing coalition Lowndes, Lloyd, 61 machine politics, impact on African American migration, 30; also see Prince George’s County: machine politics in Magnet schools, 126, 154, description of, 123; evaluation of, 124; funding disparities, 124; rationale for, 122 Marshall, Bud, 1986 State’s Attorney race, 73, 80, 99 Marshall, Deborah, 71, on African American appointments, 63; election of, 68; support for Roy Dabney appointment, 93 Martin, Barbara Fletcher, Board of Education election, 73; opposition to busing plan, 115 Martin, Larnzell, appointment of, 97; Fifth Judicial District Court appointment, 99 Martin, William, busing modification negotiations, 111; on diverse interests in the African American community, 112; suspension from NAACP, 112–113 Maryland National Capital Park and Planning Commission (MNCP&PC), 24

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index Maryland School Performance Assessment Program (MSPAP), student performance on, 153 Maryland State Legislature, county delegation to, 24–25 Maryland suburbs, migration to, 36 Maryland: African American education attainment, 54, 55, 56; African American employment characteristics, 54, 55; African American family poverty, 54, 56; African American housing characteristics, 53; African American income characteristics, 54, 56; African American socioeconomic characteristics, 52, 57; impact of 15th amendment in 60; Republican Party in, 60; social and economic characteristics, 45, 46 Maxima Computer Systems Corporation of Rockville, 98 McAdam, Doug, 185n, on African American insurgency, 14 McCord, James, influence on African American appointments, 104 McHale, John E., police chief appointment, 93 Memorandum of Understanding, provisions of, 122–123 Metts, Iris, 147, academic achievement under, 154; budget shortfall, 154 Migration patterns, 33, impact of African American migration on white migration patterns, 38, 44; see also African American: migration, and white: migration patterns

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

221

221

Miller, Juanita, characterization of, 75; election of, 74, Martin Luther King day celebration dispute, 75; opposition against Albert Wynn, 75 Miller, Thomas V. Mike, 30, 67, 85, 86, controversy over Jerry Perry appointment, 94–95; opposition to John Murphy contract, 116; and Parris Glendening split, 73, 80, 82, 86, 137; support for Beatrice Tignor, 80; support for Decatur Trotter, 72, 88 Milliken II schools, 126, 127, 155, description of, 123; evaluation of, 124; funding disparities, 124; rationale for, 122 Milliken v. Bradley, 123 Mills, Sue, county executive race, 79; school busing modification proposal, 110 Mitchell, David B., controversy over appointment, 101 Mitchell, R. Clayton, 75 Mitchellville, 75 mobilization, measurement of 18; organization as a mobilization of bias, 7; significance of, 87; also see African American mobilization efforts Montgomery County: African American education attainment, 54, 55, 56; African American employment characteristics, 54, 55; African American family poverty, 54, 56; African American housing characteristics, 53; African American income characteristics, 54, 56; African American population 36, 38, 41; African American socioeconomic

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

222

INDEX

Montgomery County (continued) characteristics, 52; building permits, 32; Fourth District Congressional race, 77–79; housing units constructed, 33; housing values, 35, 154; owner occupied housing value, 36; owner/renter occupancy rates, 34; social and economic characteristics, 45, 46; value of residential units, 32; white population, 41; zoning practices of, 31, 32 Moss, John E., appointment of, 101 Mt. Rainier, 34 Muhammad, Abdul Alim, Steny Hoyer challenge, 76 Multicultural Education Program, 126 funding of, 127; initiation of, 124 Murphy, John A., 51, 52, Black Male Student Achievement Program, 124, 126, 127; African American opposition to, 117; contract controversy, 116; on racial discord in Prince George’s County, 117 Muse, Dr. C. Anthony, influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83 National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, 2, 100, 113, and African American elected officials, 111; in Boston, 63; demand for African American superintendent, 117, 129; dissension within, 110–111; and Hester King, 62; influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83; opposition to busing advisory

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

222

committee plan, 114; opposition to civilian review process, 101; opposition to William Martin, 111; opposition to David Mitchell nomination, 101; opposition to John Murphy contract, 116; opposition to police department, 94; opposition to James Taylor nomination, 92; participation in school desegregation suit, 109; refusal to withdraw desegregation order, 118, 119; request to reopen desegregation case, 114; and Cora Rice, 74; support for Magnet and Milliken II schools, 116 National Business League of Southern Maryland, 100 National Council of Christians and Jews, opposition to James Taylor nomination, 93 National Housing Act of 1934, impact on suburbanization, 3; section 3 of, 4; Title I of, 4 Neighborhood Revitalization Division (Prince George’s County), 157 neighborhood schools, 120 African American support for, 108–109 Nelson, William E. Jr., impact of African American mayors, 10, 11 Newman, Eugene Wright, 61 Nussbaum, Paul, 113 O’Malley, Peter F., 27, 64, 65, 66, 67, 85 Open Housing Legislation of 1968, 38 Orfield, Gary, 194n on changing racial composition of suburban schools, 125; Milliken II schools study, 124 Organizational resources, impact of, 12–13, 136

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index Ostrom, Robert B., 80 Oxon Hill, Maryland, 23, 34 Palen, John, 3, 183n Park and Planning Zoning Board, 32 Parker, Frank, 184n Pemberton, Hilda, election of, 71, 74; Metro green line expansion, 99; on minority procurement, 98; rejection of minority procurement bill, 98– 99 Perry, Jerry, appointment of, 73, 95 Poe amendment of 1904, 62 police brutality, 38, 157, also see African American community: police brutality in Police Department (Prince George’s County), African American representation in, 94, 97, 101, 157; discrimination in, 94; opposition from NAACP, 94; opposition from U.S. Justice Department, 94, 105, 138; racial discrimination in, 158; white representation in, 157 policy demands, measurement of 18 population size, impact of, 9–11, 132–134 Potter, Robert W., reappointment of, 98 Preston, Michael B., 184n on impact of African American mayors, 10 Prince George of Denmark, 23 Prince George’s County Concerned Clergy, opposition to James Taylor nomination, 93 Prince George’s County government, African American representation in, 97

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

223

223

Prince George’s County Progressive Caucus, 73 Prince George’s County: African American education attainment, 54, 55, 56; African American elected officials in, 44; African American employment characteristics, 54, 55; African American family poverty, 54, 56; African American housing characteristics, 53; African American income characteristics, 54, 56, 134; African American migration to, 36; African American population, 38, 39, 41, 60; African American socioeconomic characteristics, 52; amenities in, 158; building permits, 32; characteristics of, 19; Democratic Party in, 60; governing coalition, 24–25; economic development in, 148; history of 23–24; home construction in, 30–31; housing units constructed, 33; housing values, 32, 35, 49, 154; machine politics in, 26–27; migration to, 34; owner occupied housing value, 36; owner/renter occupancy rates, 34; police brutality in, 157–158; population boom, 31; public school system, 50; public service challenges in, 158; racial transformation, 39, 145, 148–152; Reconstruction period, 60; Republican Party in, 60; school integration in, 109; segregation in, 41; separate race schools, 109; social and economic characteristics, 45, 46, 155–156, 158; structure of government, 24–26; As Tale of Two Cities, 1; zoning practices, 32, 33, 34; white population, 39, 41

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

224

INDEX

Project Success, 127 protest strategies, 13–14; public school system (Prince George’s County), African American employment in, 117; busing modifications, 114; busing provision of desegregation order, 110; end of desegregation order, 148, 161; funding disparities in, 122; per pupil expenditures, 154; poverty in, 154; racial composition, 119; ranking of, 153, 154; student population, 109; teacher salaries, 155; also see Board of Education Queenstown, Maryland, 34 race, impact of, 57 racial steering, 37 Rainbow Coalition (Prince George’s County), 100, influence on African American representation, 83 real estate covenants, 31 redistricting, 1990 plan, 132–133; 2000 plan, 161 Reed, Adolph Jr., 183n, 184n, on “black community” as a reification, 6; on origins of “black interests,” 7 Regional Fair Housing Consortium, 31 Republican Central Committee, 61 Republican National Convention (1916), 61 Republican Party, African American exodus from, 61; African American participation in, 60, 62, 64; in Maryland, 60; support from African American ministers, 71 Rhoads, John W., 92, 93 Rice, Cora, 63, characterization of Democratic Party slate, 70; demonstration

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

224

against Parris Glendening, 74; influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83; on machine politics, 64; opposition against Floyd E. Wilson, 71, 74; support for James Taylor nomination, 93; support for Jesse Jackson, 73; support for David Mitchell nomination, 101, 103; support for Reuben Spellman, 70; support for James Taylor nomination, 103 Riddick, Major F., as a conduit, 104; Department of Housing and Community Development appointment, 97; promotion to administrative officer, 101 Riverbend Black Coalition Against Unnecessary Busing, 114 Robbins, Illinois, 3 Robinson Dr., 64, influence on African American representation, 83 Rosser, John, threat to reopen desegregation case, 114 Rossville, 23 Sasscer, Lansdale T., 26, 27, 30, 32, and machine, 64; overthrow of, 65, 88, 136, 138 Saunders, Norman, busing modification negotiations, 111, 113 Saxon, Samuel, appointment of, 96 Schattschneider, E. E., 183n School construction, 159, Wayne Curry plan, 148; proposal for, 120, School funding, 120–122 segregation, see Prince George’s County: segregation in

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index Shaefer, William Donald, Larnzell Martin appointment, 99 Sheehan, Lorraine, secretary of state appointment, 94 Shelby, Paul, on initiation process of education programs and initiatives, 126 Shelley v. Kramer, 4 Slating process, African American support for, 137; impact on African American representation, 84, 88 Smith, Perry Reverend 64, characterization of Sasscer machine, 67; conversation with Steny Hoyer, 71; influence on African American appointments, 104; influence on African American representation, 83; and Republican Party, 71; support for Jesse Jackson, 73 Socioeconomic diversity, 147–148, impact on residential patterns, 134, impact on candidate selection, 66, 75, 135, 137 Socioeconomic resources, impact on political incorporation, 11, 134–135 Sonenshein, Raphael, 185n Southern Christian Leadership Conference (Prince George’s County), influence on African American representation, 83 Spearman, Eldridge, 95 Spelman, Gladys Noon, 27, 63 Spencer, Robert A., 71 Standard Achievement Test (SAT), student performance on, 153 standardized tests, 50, California Achievement Test, 51, 52, 124; Comprehensive Test of Basic Skills, 52, 154; Maryland School Performance Assessment Program (MSPAP), 153; Standard Achievement Test (SAT), 153

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

225

225

State Legislature (P.G. delegation), African Americans on, 69, 71, 72, 73, 75–76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 87, 97, 133, 159–160, minority representation on, 161 Stone, Clarence N., 135, 185n, impact of biracial coalitions, 138; impact of socioeconomic resources, 11, 14 Straus amendment, 62 Suitland, Maryland, 34, 75 Tax Reform Initiative by Marylanders (TRIM), impact on school funding, 121, 154 Taylor, James R., police chief nomination, 92 Teasdale, Verna, 76 term limits, 30, 80 The Atlas Project, 127 The Black Republicans, 100 Thornburg v. Gingles, 77, 105, 138 Thornton, Alvin, and Ad Hoc Committee on Quality Education, 127; election of, 76; Maryland School Performance Assessment Program (MSPAP) investigation, 154; on neighborhood schools, 122 Thornton, Alvin, and Eva Wells Chunn, 195n Tignor, Beatrice, 75 county executive race, 79–80; election of, 77 Tillerson, Shelia T., deputy county attorney appointment, 99; nomination of, 99 Travis, Toni-Michelle C., 188n Trotter, Decatur, on African American differences, 75; and Broadwater political battle, 69, 86; election of, 68, 74; election victory against Broadwater, 75; opposition to John Murphy contract, 116;

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

226

INDEX

Trotter, Decatur (continued) proposal to enlarge county boards, 96–97 Turner Commission report on school system, 119 United States: African American education attainment, 54, 55, 56; African American employment characteristics, 54, 55; African American family poverty, 54, 56; African American housing characteristics, 52; African American income characteristics, 54, 56; African American socioeconomic characteristics, 52, 134; social and economic characteristics, 46 Upper Marlboro, Maryland, 23 Urban League, in Boston, 63 Valley Lane, 23 Vasco, Joseph P., nomination of, 96 Vaughns, Sylvester, on divergent interests in the African American community, 112; on internal dissention within the NAACP, 111; participation in school desegregation suit, 109; support for James Taylor nomination, 93, 103 Veteran Administration (VA) loans impact on suburbanization, 3 Virta, Alan, 185n, 187n Wallace, George, 1972 Presidential Primary, 59 Warr, Jesse J., and Board of Education, 64; death of, 68 Washington Bee newspaper, 61 Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission (WSSC), 24

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

226

Washington, D.C. SMSA, African American population, 39 Washington, D.C./District of Columbia, housing values, 154; migration from, 31, 36, 37, 147; renovation projects in, 156–157; suburban outmovers by income, 38; suburban outmovers by housing tenure, 38 Waters, Ron, on Fourth Congressional District race, 78 Watkins, William Lane, 61 white elected officials, 44, consensus on education policy, 128; disunity among, 88, 105, 137; power sharing, 84, 85, 137; tactics of, 87–88 white flight, 4, 38, 44, 125, 126, 133, 135, 140, 147, and busing, 113; impact on student population, 115 white resistance, 38 white: academic achievement, 50, 51, 153; family poverty, 46; impact of African American migration on, 133, 135; median housing values, 49; migration patterns of, 31, 37; owner/renter occupancy rates, 48; population trends, 146–148; resistance to busing, 113, 120; resistance to school desegregation, 109, 100, 125; socioeconomic characteristics, 46, 48; socioeconomic comparisons, 47; student population, 50, 125, 153; student suspensions, 50 Whiting, Chester E., opposition to Norman Saunders, 113 Williams Alexander, characterization of African Americans in Prince George’s County, 76; on Democratic

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Index Party structure, 77; federal judgeship appointment, 80; Fourth District Congressional race, 77–79; on political inclusion, 78; on school superintendent selection, 117; WSSC appointment, 96; 1986 State’s Attorney election, 74, 99–100, 136 Williams, Bob, influence on African American appointments, 104 Williamson-Gray, Melvinor, 72 Wilson, Floyd E. Jr., 71, County Council appointment, 68; opposition from Cora Rice, 71, 74; support for Charles Kelly, 92; support for Roy Dabney appointment, 93; unsuccessful county executive bid, 76 Wirt, Benjamin, Benjamin Walter, Francine Rabinovitz, and Deborah Hensler, 183n

32903_SP_JOH_INDEX_213-228

227

227

Woods, Sylvania, election of 69; resignation from state legislature, 76 Wynn, Albert, characterization of, 75; characterization of African Americans in Prince George’s County, 76; criticism of poor African American in-migration, 156; on diverse goals of his constituency, 100; election of, 72, 74; on Democratic Party structure, 77; Fourth District Congressional race, 77–79, 133; opposition to John Murphy contract, 116; on significance of economic development, 98; support for Larnzell Martin appointment, 99; support for Beatrice Tignor, 80 zoning laws/ practices, impact on migration patterns, 31; see also Montgomery County, and Prince George’s County

8/13/02, 10:16 PM

Black Power in the Suburbs: The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation (Suny Series in African American Studies)

The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality

Resurrection: Myth or Reality?

Out of the Crucible (Suny Series in Afro-American Studies)

The Body (Suny Series in Buddhist Studies)

Superheroes in the Suburbs

The Duke in the Suburbs

The Suburban Gothic in American Popular Culture

Desegregating The City: Ghettos, Enclaves, And Inequality (Suny Series in African American Studies)

Black Jacks: African American Seamen in the Age of Sail

The Power of Myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The Power of Myth

Sisters in the Struggle : African-American Women in the Civil Rights-Black Power Movement

Sisters in the Struggle : African-American Women in the Civil Rights-Black Power Movement

African-American Political Leaders

The Power of Myth

The Power of Myth

The power of myth

The Power Of Myth

The Power of Myth

The Power of Myth

African American Views of the Japanese: Solidarity or Sedition? (Suny Series, Global Conflict and Peace Education)

The power of myth

The power of myth

The Power of Myth

Women in Chains: The Legacy of Slavery in a Black Women's Fiction (Suny Series in Afro-American Studies)

The Dao Of Rhetoric (Suny Series in Communication Studies)

Black Power in the Suburbs: The Myth or Reality of African-American Suburban Political Incorporation (Suny Series in African American Studies)

The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality

Resurrection: Myth or Reality?

Out of the Crucible (Suny Series in Afro-American Studies)

The Body (Suny Series in Buddhist Studies)

Superheroes in the Suburbs

The Duke in the Suburbs

The Suburban Gothic in American Popular Culture

Desegregating The City: Ghettos, Enclaves, And Inequality (Suny Series in African American Studies)

Black Jacks: African American Seamen in the Age of Sail

The Power of Myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The power of myth

The Power of Myth

Sisters in the Struggle : African-American Women in the Civil Rights-Black Power Movement

Sisters in the Struggle : African-American Women in the Civil Rights-Black Power Movement

African-American Political Leaders

The Power of Myth

The Power of Myth

The power of myth

The Power Of Myth

The Power of Myth

The Power of Myth

African American Views of the Japanese: Solidarity or Sedition? (Suny Series, Global Conflict and Peace Education)

The power of myth

The power of myth

The Power of Myth

Women in Chains: The Legacy of Slavery in a Black Women's Fiction (Suny Series in Afro-American Studies)

The Dao Of Rhetoric (Suny Series in Communication Studies)

Recommend Documents