In 1968, New York City Mayor John Lindsay supported a school decentralization plan. It was designed to fix situations such as those in Brownsville, where black students made up a large percentage in classrooms but school leadership remained overwhelmingly white. The plan, replaced decades later by Mayoral control, created local community districts and paved the way for items such as black history in curriculums.
Middle-class communities were fiercely opposed to the decentralization plan, but Mayor Lindsay wished to engage with its residents nevertheless. He chose to attend East Midwood Jewish Center (EMJC) for a meeting and a Q & A on the subject. With him was the late Rabbi Harry Halpern, the Center’s long-time leader.
Lindsay was greeted by anger and drowned out by noise. He tried to take down the fear and uneasiness over the plan and answer questions, but the crowd responded with epithets and slogans.
“This City of ours cannot exist or continue if there are acts of intolerance,” said Lindsay, to boos which were so loud that the Mayor had to stop talking before Rabbi Halpern finally ended the meeting early, saying it had gone on for long enough.
“I say this with a great deal of sadness in my heart. As Jews, you have no right to be in this synagogue acting the way you are acting,” said Halpern, who appealed to the crowd for calm several times. A news report describes how the Rabbi grew considerably emotional. “This is the spot in which for close to 40 years I preached to my people to be understanding and be respectable. Is this an exemplification of the ideals of Jewish faith?” he asked.
“Yes, yes!” audience members shouted in response.
There was however one line by Mayor Lindsay which resulted in the audience’s support. “Anti-white propaganda will not be a part of our school system, anti-Semitic epithets will not be a part of our school system,” said Lindsay to some applause.
“But they are, but they are!” others in the audience shouted in response.
After the meeting, the Mayor and his wife had to leave EMJC through a fire escape because an angry crowd of 5,000 was waiting for them outside.
Some years later, in 1973, the Board of Education (BOE) began building multiple new schools throughout the city. One of them was North Central High School on Avenue L and E 17th Street in Midwood, which would eventually be named after Edward R. Murrow. The local community was once again in uproar over the pending opening in late 1974.
After then-North Central’s planned student size was reduced from 4,000 to 2,500 that year, an unnamed BOE aide told The New York Times that “some people in the area,” referring to Midwood, were afraid that a large school would “be filled by bringing students in from other sections of the borough, making the racial distribution at the school more substantially different from that in the community.”
The same year, Times reporter Richard Peck wrote a profile on Flatbush and Midwood. When describing local High Schools, he didn’t fail to mention the current battle over what would eventually become Murrow High School. “There is worry about the standards of the secondary schools and fear that the new North Central will admit out‐of‐district students to correct the racial imbalance,” Peck wrote in his profile, referring to Midwood being overwhelmingly white.
It was right as school integration in local public schools in nearby Canarsie led to thousands of Italian and Jewish parents to pack their bags and flee their homes after fierce protests were not enough to prevent integration, as part of the nationwide phenomenon which would become known as white flight. In ’72, some Canarsie parents stood on the steps of local schools to prevent black students from entering the building.
Let’s admit it: Southern Brooklyn, and in particular Midwood, has a clear and obvious past of racist anxieties when it comes to new student populations.
This isn’t an exaggeration. This is well-recorded, relatively recent history. And as we know, history has a way of holding down its repeat button.
At a November 25 meeting on a planned charter school at the very same East Midwood Jewish Center Mayor Lindsay was screamed at, over a thousand people stormed into an auditorium meant to discuss Urban Dove, a charter-school for academically underperforming students which plans to lease part of the landmarked building for its 309 students after financial disagreements with their current tenant.
At the end, there was standing room only and some attendees were turned away due to safety concerns resulting from overcrowding. “It’s standing room only. They’re standing outside the doors. It’s not a safe situation,” said an EMJC member who stood on the steps to the meeting’s auditorium, explaining to angry attendees how there was simply no more room for them to enter.
The audience, which looked to be largely Orthodox Jews from Midwood, screamed, shouted and interrupted both Urban Dove and EMJC representatives. Eventually, the synagogue’s President Michael Schwartz abruptly ended the meeting. “Thank you very much, it was a pleasure seeing you,” said Schwartz as the crowd shouted him out with chants of “Membership now!”, attempting to collectively bribe the center into rejecting Urban Dove.
Remind you of something?
As in ’68, there were many colorful remarks by attendees. “They’re coming from all over,” shouted one lady, referring to Urban Dove’s students. “Can this be undone?” another, with audible worry in her voice. “What are you gonna do to ensure my security [so] my children can play outside at 4:15?,” screamed a third, who was also worried about a Jewish child being surrounded by taller non-Jewish children on the subway. (For the record: the New York City subway system has always been open to the public.)
After the meeting, journalist Shimon Gifter interviewed former Assemblywoman Rhoda Jacobs, born in 1937, who remembered the opposition to North Central. “I remember when everybody was screaming about Murrow. ‘Don’t establish Murrow’, ‘They’re gonna walk through the neighborhood’,” Jacobs recalled, shrugging.
Indeed, Edward R. Murrow never became a nest of crime but rather one of the most flourishing High Schools in the City, educating even Yvette D. Clarke, the local Congresswoman who represents the area today. Thousands of students share sidewalks around East 17th Street with local white Midwood suburbanites every day, without complications.
They have done so since 74, even with Murrow maintaining over 3,500 students, more than ten times the amount Urban Dove plans to educate at EMJC’s facility. Urban Dove’s goal of educating those who are academically lagging also doesn’t make it stand out much from its future Avenue L neighbor, as 26% of Murrow’s students are special needs or English Language Learners.
But sadly, not everyone shares the wisdom of Assemblywoman Jacobs.
I have previously written two op-eds on here, one calling out anti-Semitic campaign literature in a Flatbush City Council race and another defending the ancient Kaparot practice against misleading activists. The Orthodox Jewish community in Midwood and Borough Park is accused of lots of nonsense, and I will always be happy to debunk that nonsense. It’s a community I reside in, am familiar and reasonably close with and one that I value for the tremendous amount of charity and good that it produces. But I won’t deny a situation in which that same community is being unreasonable, giving in to its worst fears and visibly repeating awful errors of the past.
First, let’s clear up a few things.
Urban Dove is a charter school that is free to any student who maintains less than 11 credits at age 16. Anyone who fits that requirement may enter the school, including Jews, for that matter.
The school is being called a place for “at-risk students”. This is a misleading term. “At-risk” is a term which, to a Midwood suburbanite, immediately implies criminality, drug use or other things which make a person ‘not normal’. In reality, the “at-risk” at Urban Dove merely refers to people who are academically at risk, as in at-risk of not reaching their next grade level.
The kids at Urban Dove are not there because they failed a drug test, they’re there because they failed the Algebra Regents.
During the meeting, an attendee called out “Hasidim!” while the school’s credit requirements were being explained, to laughter from the angry, but mostly Jewish crowd.
While it’s merely an off-color joke, it’s actually shows an understanding of Urban Dove’s mission. The school caters to those who have issues with academic coursework, not necessarily to those who have struggles at home or with the law.
“They don’t have to be at-risk?” an attendee asked.
Some opponents I’ve talked to have even been misled to thinking that Urban Dove specifically seeks out students from violent backgrounds, which is false and would be against the law.“It’s illegal for us to ask a student if they have a history of violence,” said Urban Dove’s Founder and Executive Director Jai Nanda.
Being academically at-risk is not defined by drugs or crime, it’s defined by with pencils and scantrons. The students Urban Dove seeks out have a history of failed exams, not background checks.
Granted, sometimes that may co-align with trouble at home or in their local communities, but Urban Dove’s kids are those who have decided to escape that trouble, not migrate it. As an example, one student was bullied in her local school in The Bronx and decided to leave and commute to Urban Dove instead. These kids are refugees, not terrorists.
Third, the reason EMJC was selected by this non-Jewish charter school is because the building is ideal for Urban Dove’s sports program. The charter school considered Aviator as a location close to a decade ago, but was shut down by similar community opposition.
Urban Dove is a school of 309 students (possibly less by the time of opening at EMJC), which makes its population about the size of a full movie theater auditorium at UA Sheepshead Bay, with students who are in no way determined “special” other than having had trouble with academic coursework.
Three-hundred-and-nine students. 309 teenagers. 309 kids. This is what is causing hundreds upon hundreds of Midwood locals to leave their homes, fear for their neighborhood, scream, shout and interrupt a meeting. More people showed up to oppose the school at November’s meeting than the number of students who would learn in it.
And it’s beyond obvious why: Urban Dove’s previously recorded student population was 78% black and 20% Hispanic. So suddenly, in the mind of a Midwood suburbanite, the argument isn’t about 309 kids, it’s about 309 black and Hispanic kids.
This is led by the same energy that drove thousands to protest black curriculums in public schools at EMJC in ‘68, the same energy that drove locals to oppose Murrow High School in ‘73 and the same energy that led to tens of thousands of southern Broolynites to abandon their homes and move to other neighborhoods due to school integration between the 60s and 90s.
This Sunday, EMJC installed Rabbi Sam Levine, a community event at which hundreds protested. Protest to prevent what, you ask? You read correctly, 309 kids from using a local gym.
Protesters were reciting sacred prayers, begging their creator to respond to their racial anxieties. Those weren’t “fake” prayers — those calls were real. While hate is undoubtedly a factor, a major one is fear. The community is legitimately afraid of 309 black and Hispanic kids. Afraid of them coming in and bringing drugs, crime and destroying their neighborhood. And there is no one within the community to claim otherwise.
In fact, Midwood’s leaders are actively pouring salt into the wound, establishing the resistance: local elected officials and the influential Flatbush Jewish Community Coalition (FJCC), led by Josh Mehlman who is rumored to have political ambitions, sent out an email blast to rally troops to the original meeting. The email called Urban Dove a “controversial school” that caters to “highly at risk public high school teenagers” and urged readers to “express opposition to this lease that will drastically change our residential neighborhood for decades to come.”
For one, “highly at-risk” implies being highly at risk of something such as overdoses or repeated arrests. In reality, the only thing Urban Dove’s students are “highly at-risk” of is not reaching their next academic grade level. Second, the school is open to all teenagers, from public or private schools, of all economic, religious and social backgrounds. As a matter of fact, any Jewish teens who have failed ninth grade may take advantage of Urban Dove’s small class sizes and lack of tuition too. The term “at-risk”was never defined in the FJCC’s email, casting doubt over how many of the school’s opponents actually understand its meaning and how much FJCC wanted them to.
Second, the FJCC claims that the school will “drastically change our residential neighborhood for decades to come”. In what world, in what universe, can 309 kids possibly change a neighborhood of tens of thousands of people for decades to come?
EMJC is a Conservative Jewish congregation, its religious practices are more liberal and different from that of Orthodox Judaism. Yet, Orthodox attendees began offering to purchase membership to the congregation to somehow make EMJC change their mind and prevent the school from opening. As they don’t share the same Jewish orientation, we can assume they’d never visit the Center as members.
Think about that: hundreds of people are afraid enough of 309 black and Hispanic kids that they are willing to collect millions of dollars and take money out of their monthly salaries for no reason other than to try to keep those kids away from their blocks. Almost as a “racism tax” or a “fear tax”. And that fact scares me more than any 16-year old.
What is worse than white suburbanites with racial anxieties is the complete lack of lack internal leaders who are willing to step up and do better. Every single Orthodox Jewish politician in Brooklyn and multiple of their politically-aligned colleges have joined the opposition and played into nonsensical anxieties about minorities rather than step up and try to curb it.
Even two black elected officials – Councilwoman Farah Louis and Assemblywoman Rodneyse Bichotte – signed onto a letter opposing the school. Arguably it isn’t because they’re afraid of black kids, but because they’re afraid of losing the support of the FJCC, which was instrumental in helping them electorally.
Today’s Midwood leaders were happy, even made it their task, to build up irrational fear and anger and feed claims that a charter school of less than the size of a single movie theater auditorium was going to destroy Midwood.
“We asked East Midwood and Urban Dove to work with us to find a suitable religious school to locate in the Jewish Center’s school building. We believe that is the most appropriate solution and the most fitting legacy to the memory of Rabbi Halpern,” wrote those elected officials in a joint statement. That is an uneducated and offensive lie.
What is Rabbi Halpern thinking? Looking down at hundreds upon hundreds of local Jews afraid enough of a few hundred minority high school children that they were willing enough to protest installations of Rabbis, flood meetings, shout and heckle the same way they did back in ‘68 and even go as far as to offer their own wealth to prevent those students from ever coming there? He is rolling in his grave.
This isn’t merely an issue in Midwood’s Orthodox Jewish community. On Long Island and Upstate communities, the same-sized crowds gather whenever a new or expanded Hasidic village becomes the subject of a meeting. Over there, the fear isn’t tall black teenagers, it’s short Yeshiva bochrim wearing bekishes and black hats.
This is an issue of gutlessness. There were no major political, community or religious Midwood leaders trying to curb the irrational and racist fear over diverse public schools in ‘73. And with deep sadness I have to admit that there are none today. Instead of telling their constituents that 309 kids who might have failed a math exam won’t bring havoc on the neighborhood, local politicians are busy trying to convince EMJC leadership of “Jewish options”, lying in their statements, ignoring history and playing into the very same awful and false fears that have plagued the neighborhood and local community for decades.
As a graduate of Orthodox Jewish education, I’m not opposed to a Yeshiva taking Urban Dove’s place. But let’s not lie: the reason there is a “push” for a Jewish school to lease at EMJC instead of Urban Dove is not because of a terrible demand for more Yeshivas in the neighborhood, it’s because of the fear over a non-white school in it.
Let’s instead be honest: had a white Catholic school offered to lease EMJC’s facility, there would not be nearly the same level of opposition. The Church of Scientology could offer to lease the Center today and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear sighs of relief from many of Urban Dove’s opponents.
And thus, the loop continues. In terms of secular social attitudes, Midwood in 2019 has not changed an iota from the Midwood in 1973.
History teaches a lot, but only to those who are willing to be taught by it. Let’s let it teach us. Throw away the lies and the toxicity and replace it with the truth.
I see both Canarsie’s white flight and opposition to New Central as perhaps the darkest parts of southern Brooklyn’s history. White flight led to the creation of one of the most racially segregated neighborhoods in the city and opposition to New Central, based entirely on race, almost prevented an educational gem to the city from ever being built and seeing the light of day.
Think of everything great that Murrow High School has allowed to happen to its students, parents and the world. Think about how all of that would never have existed if the racial fears and anxieties had won.
Had the same crowd trying to stop Urban Dove today had its way back in 1973, the site of Edward R. Murrow High School would now be a parking lot.
Urban Dove is not a dangerous nor a controversial place. It’s a place for students who failed tests but don’t want to fail their entire academic life. And it needs a reasonably-priced place that can support its sports program, which EMJC can be. So let Urban Dove exist, let their students succeed.
Grab all the fear, anxieties, stereotypes and phobias from 1973 and throw them into the ash heap of history, so that they may never show themselves in Midwood again.
