Laura Parker
- 1996
Fellowship Title:
- Coping with Illiteracy: One Town's Burden, a Nation's Shame
Fellowship Year:
- 1996
Abandoned Education: Tunica’s Schools Struggle with Leftovers and Neglect
Photos by former APF Fellow William Prochna TUNICA, Mississippi – Nobody in Miss Mitchell’s Algebra I class learned much in 1993 because Miss Mitchell quit in October. No replacement could be found. The principal at Rosa Fort High School neglected to mention these facts to Miss Liimatta when she was hired the following year to teach Algebra II. An abandoned filling station in Tunica County, Mississippi advertises the area’s neglect. Miss Liimatta soon learned that the all-black public schools in the impoverished Upper Delta of Mississippi had great difficulty recruiting teachers. Rosa Fort rarely found substitute teachers, even for a day. After Miss Mitchell’s abrupt departure, her students had sat, more or less, unattended in the room at the end of the hall for the rest of the school year. Janet Liimatta was at the time 21 years old. She was fresh out of college and had signed on with Teach For America to teach in the rural South. She had grown up in suburban Baltimore, the daughter of a community college instructor, and believed
Mississippi Misery: Residents Can’t Cash in if They Can’t Read
TUNICA, Miss. – Graduation at Rosa Fort High School here is one of the biggest social occasions of the year. It is usually held on the last Sunday in May, and this year, the Class of ’96 went forth at precisely 5 p.m., marching two-by-two into the gym and across the stage. Lakesha Smith, left, and Annette Conley prepare to lead the Class of 1996 into the graduation ceremony at Rosa Fort High School. Conley was the class valedictorian and plans to attend Howard University in Washington this fall. Smith graduated an honor student and will attend Rust College, the oldest black college in Mississippi. In years past, the graduates marched back out of the gym, took off their caps and gowns in the parking lot, turned onto Highway 61, the main route out of the impoverished Upper Mississippi Delta, and headed out of town. “On graduation day, your brother or your sister or your uncle would come down from Chicago or Detroit, and as soon as graduation was over, you’d be loaded up to
Gamblers’ Needs Focus a Town on its Reading Failures
TUNICA, MS. June, 1996 – A teacher stands before a blackboard in an otherwise barren room. Eleven faces stare back passively. Most are in their twenties, a few in their forties. They are newly hired cashiers at the Sheraton Casino. On Monday, they start work. They are gathered to bone up on decimals, since they will be dealing with dollars and cents. Sounded like a good idea, but after 30 minutes, the teacher has increasing doubts. She wants them to work problems containing decimals, but they are having trouble doing simple math. She bites into the silence that has enveloped the room. “Okay. What’s five times five?” No one says a word. The teacher turns to a woman who has come with her 21-year-old son. “Charlotte?” she asks. Charlotte hesitates. “Ten?” The Tunica County Literacy Center is housed in a small, green corrugated metal building, the last structure on the black-topped road before the outer reaches of this small town in the Mississippi Delta give way to cotton fields and catfish ponds. Betty Jo Dulaney