Dissonance: a Historical Snippet through Photograph

“Music class at Carver Elementary School Annex”

October 23, 1967

Richland County, South Carolina

My first introduction to the piano is saved on a VHS tape. I was two years old — beach-blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and a pink tutu. I sit on the plush piano bench looking admiringly at my mom who is capturing the scene. “Will you play a song for me, Ellis?” Her melodious, sugar-sweet voice makes me smile. “Of course, Mommy! Let me play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ for you,” I respond gaily. What follows is cacophony; the pounding of random keys in a random order accompanied by my extraordinary rendition of the song. My mom praises the performance. I giggle with excitement.

Music has continued to pour out of me since that day. At the ripe age of five, I began piano lessons and joined two choirs. Stone Academy, a public, arts-focused elementary school, ignited my passion and fire for the arts. Every day was graced with structured time for dance, visual art, drama, and music.

First looking at “Music class of Carver Elementary School Annex” transported me back to my days as an arts-crazed elementary schooler. My heart swelled as I looked at the possibility present in those young learners. I also laughed as I thought about the sound of that room — perhaps not unlike the VHS tape of my attempt at piano? We’ll never know.

Yet, after my initial reaction, I was unable to see anything beyond the evident segregation this image displays. Both repulsed and admittedly intrigued, I researched the school, Carver Elementary School Annex, located in Richland County, South Carolina. A website documenting the history of Richland County Public Schools prefaced their description of the school with the following caveat:

	Much of the history of the Richmond Public Schools was recorded in the context of a segregated society, and the reader should readily discern between pre- and post-desegregation observations. The terms "black," "colored," "Negro," and "white" in this booklet should not be considered offensive as they have been used according to the custom of the particular period. Since 1962, the division has omitted such racial designations from its reports and publications.

I read these words over and over again. “What the hell is this?” I yell at my computer. No response. I try again, “How can a world of racism and segregation ‘not be considered offensive?’ How can we believe that our state has figured how to ‘discern between pre- and post- desegregation observations?’” I was enraged, yet I continued to read.

Named for the noted Negro scientist, George Washington Carver (1864-1943). This school was originally called Moore School or Moore Street School because the 1886-87 building fronted on Moore Street; the modem building of 1951 fronts on Leigh Street. When this twenty-classroom, two-story brick addition (including auditorium, library, and cafeteria) was occupied, the two earlier buildings were renovated and the school was renamed.
Carver was one of eight elementary school renovation projects in 1980. An annex of Carver operated from the Katherine L. Johnson Building until the 1992-93 session, when a sixteen-classroom addition to the 1951 building was occupied.

The enrollment of Carver (Moore) School has varied considerably. At different times when those schools were closed, it absorbed pupils from Newtown, Elba, and Westwood schools; for many years it also housed seventh grade pupils from Randolph School. On the other hand, enrollment declined when houses were razed to make room for the Richmond Petersburg Turnpike and the accompanying rehabilitation program.
Under Plan III, Carver was paired with Fisher. Other programs have operated from quarters at Carver: the Park program for pregnant girls (1975-79), "Plan G" coordinating principals' offices (1979-83), Richmond Community High School (1979-86), and Educare (1991-92). The West hampton exceptional education program relocated here in 1992.

I read this history and thought back to the image taken in October of 1967, three years before the integration of South Carolina’s public school system in 1970. My heart aches. How did the lives of these beautiful young souls change after integration? I cannot image the trials they endured.

This image encapsulates the highest and lowest components of my South Carolina education. The sparked joy of music from educational exposure married to the long-lasting effects of discriminatory race relations.

I do not know how to exist in a place where these two truths live together. Sometimes, I want out. Of this state. Of this country. Of this nightmare that subjugates some and praises others based on arbitrary, biological traits.

Alternatively, perhaps this juxtaposition is why I continue to live here. I have the need to disentangle this southern, segregated world that I will never truly escape. And perhaps I stay here for students like those in that music classroom, for the promise of a South Carolina whose history refuses to remain silently divisive.

Works Cited

RPS History / Carver School (George Washington), www.rvaschools.net/site/Default.aspx?PageID=3856.

Scroggins, Bill. Music Class at Carver Elementary School Annex. Richland, SC, 23 Oct. 1967, cdm16817.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16817coll21/id/5067/rec/22.