Brown v. Board of Education

  • January 12, 2012
    Guest Post

    By Tomiko Brown-Nagin, Munford Boyd Professor of Law, Justice Thurgood Marshall Distinguished Professor of Law, and Professor of History at the University of Virginia. She is the author of Courage to Dissent: Atlanta and the Long History of the Civil Rights Movement.


    Judge Robert L. Carter passed away last week. I had the honor of serving as a law clerk to the judge and found that experience profoundly rewarding. The judge, a brilliant man best known for his role as a chief strategist in Brown v. Board of Education, inspired me and many others. I share memories of my experience with him to shed light on his stupendous legal ability, his character, and his contributions as a mentor who taught invaluable lessons about life and the law. 

    As a NAACP Legal Defense Fund lawyer, Judge Carter litigated Briggs v. Elliott, the South Carolina case consolidated with four others as Brown. We initially bonded over my South Carolina roots: he had a hand in my life’s trajectory, and he knew it. I, in turn, saw in the judge a model of professional success and outstanding moral character. Each day, he made something extraordinary seem ordinary:  the idea that one individual could touch another’s life and radically alter its course. After spending a year in the presence of this great man — a lawyer who faced racial threats and insults merely for practicing his profession — a clerk for Judge Carter could scarcely contemplate disengagement from the world. The judge’s life and work taught social responsibility.

    Over the course of his career as a lawyer, Judge Carter earned a reputation as a man of strong convictions, unyielding principle, and great passion. Carter earned the reputation when, as Thurgood Marshall’s lieutenant, he consistently took the most “radical” view among LDF strategists, and when he resigned as General Counsel of the NAACP to support a colleague’s right to criticize the Warren Court. Yet, the judge, a Nixon appointee, taught me that success in the legal profession requires a clear head, a balanced and context-specific assessment of a problem, and a judicious temperament. He conveyed that passion for one’s work or causes can be productive, only if coupled with strategic thinking and professionalism.

    The judge taught this lesson in chambers on many occasions. In a long-running class action employment discrimination suit he once counseled that it would be counterproductive to coerce compliance with his orders, despite the defendant’s continued resistance to opening job opportunities to the plaintiffs. Sanctions might have been ordered in that case. But the judge had presided over the action for years. Knowing the parties and issues very well, he concluded that it made no sense to force this defendant into submission at that particular moment in time. Judges should neither look for, nor create, confrontations where they can be avoided. A judge might effectively invoke the full force of his powers on some occasions, but on others a thoughtful judge might choose not make a big show of his full powers. Good judging required knowing when to do which. 

    The judge also taught judiciousness through his writings about Brown. Not content to bask in the afterglow of his great achievement, the judge critiqued the legal strategy in Brown. He found a paradox. Brown served the U.S.’s geopolitical interests, and in many ways, propelled race relations forward in this country. But, ironically, in the public schools context, Brown proved a tremendous disappointment. The federal judges charged with articulating rights, and local officials charged with implementing legal remedies, ultimately bear the blame for Brown’s mixed legacy in the schools. However, Judge Carter also found fault with himself and his colleagues. The lawyers, he said, fixated on the constitutional dimensions of Brown, when the case also touched upon critically important matters of educational philosophy and pedagogy. The attorneys did not seriously contemplate, much less adequately define, quality education. That limitation left generations of black students adrift in schools, subject to social experimentation, or worse, educational malpractice.

  • November 16, 2011
    Guest Post

    By David H. Gans, Director of the Human Rights, Civil Rights & Citizenship Program, Constitutional Accountability Center; this analysis is cross posted at CAC’s Text & History blog.


    There are few areas of the law as deeply polarizing and emotionally heated as the application of the Constitution’s guarantee to all persons of the equal protection of the laws.  What is lost – all too often – in this heated and polarized discussion is the text and history of the Constitution’s Equal Protection Clause itself, along with the full sweep of our constitutional history: the principle of equality first stated in the Declaration of Independence, perfected in the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, and further illuminated in the Nineteenth Amendment and other Amendments.

    That’s what makes a new study by Constitutional Accountability Center entitled Perfecting the Declaration: The Text and History of the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment required reading.   Perfecting the Declaration, the fourth in CAC’s Text and Narrative Series, tells the story of how the American people redeemed the Constitution from the sin of slavery and rewrote the Constitution to guarantee equality to all persons, bringing the Constitution back in line with the principle of equality laid out in the Declaration.  In the Equal Protection Clause, “We the People” perfected the Declaration by writing into the Constitution’s text that all “person[s]” are equal, not just that “all men are created equal.”  The story of this constitutional transformation is essential to the Supreme Court’s many landmark rulings honoring the Constitution’s promise of equality for all persons, including Brown v. Board of Education, Reed v. Reed, whose 40th anniversary is being celebrated this week at a star-studded panel in Washington, D.C., and Romer v. Evans.  As important, this story is critical to on-going efforts to persuade courts and, ultimately, if necessary, the Supreme Court, to take the next step and strike down state laws that deny gay men and lesbians the right to marry the person of their choice.  

  • November 3, 2011
    BookTalk
    Elbert Parr Tuttle
    Chief Jurist of the Civil Rights Revolution
    By: 
    Anne Emanuel

    By Anne Emanuel, a law professor at Georgia State University College of Law.


    Elbert Parr Tuttle. In his time his name was synonymous with integrity. That unassailable reputation -- hard earned as an Atlanta lawyer in the first half of the twentieth century and as the commander of an artillery battalion in the Pacific Theater in World War II -- served him well when he took over as Chief Judge of the Fifth Circuit in December of 1960. The next month, sitting alone, he lifted a stay only hours after it had issued. Because of his swift, decisive action, Hamilton Holmes and Charlayne Hunter registered at the University of Georgia that very day.

    The importance of that historic order can hardly be exaggerated. Six long years had passed since the Supreme Court’s decision in Brown v. Board of Education and nothing had happened. In five southern states – Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and South Carolina – public elementary and high schools remained totally segregated. In others there had been token integration; in North Carolina, for instance, 60 black students attended school with white students, leaving the remaining 319,000 in segregated schools. Even less had happened on the voting rights front; black voters remained almost completely disenfranchised across the south.

    As Chief Judge of the Fifth Circuit -- then covering Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and Texas – Tuttle led the way in enforcing the constitutional rights of black Americans, in dismantling the American apartheid known as Jim Crow. The task was dangerous and difficult. Tuttle dealt not only with the massive resistance of  demagogues in high and low office, but also with the obstructionism of federal judges committed to protecting the southern way of life, to prohibiting “race mixing,” in the parlance of those troubled times.

  • October 4, 2011

    by Nicole Flatow

    In the third session of the American Constitution Society’s webcast series, “What the Constitution Means and How to Interpret It,” former NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund President Theodore M. Shaw will delve into the Constitution’s principle of equality.

    During a 30-minute live-streamed discussion, Shaw, a law professor at Columbia University and of counsel at Fulbright & Jaworski, will discuss the seminal case Brown v. Board of Education, gender equality, and congressional enforcement of civil rights. Following a 15-minute presentation, Shaw will take questions for 15 minutes.

    Other webcasts in the nine-part series on understanding the Constitution will focus on democracy, criminal justice and liberty. Each session, led by a preeminent scholar, mirrors a chapter in the ACS-published book, Keeping Faith with the Constitution, by Pamela Karlan, Goodwin Liu and Christopher H. Schroeder.

    Both lawyers/law students and non-lawyers are encouraged to participate and interact with questions, tweets and Facebook comments. If you are on Twitter, please join ACS both during and after tomorrow’s session at the hashtag #ACSclass.

    The Oct. 5 webcast will occur at 12 p.m. EDT and is free and open to everyone.  To see the full schedule and accompanying readings, visit the web page for “What the Constitution Means and How to Interpret It.”

  • April 15, 2010
    BookTalk
    Mendez v. Westminster
    School Desegregation and Mexican-American Rights
    By: 
    Philippa Strum

    By Philippa Strum, Senior Scholar, Woodrow Wilson Center

    In 1943, a decade before Brown v. Board of Education was decided by the Supreme Court, Soledad Vidaurri walked up to a schoolhouse door in Orange County, California. Mrs. Vidaurri had come to the Westminster Main School, in the heart of citrus-growing country, to enroll her two daughters and her niece and two nephews-Sylvia, Gonzalo Jr. and Jerome Méndez -in the neighborhood public school.

    The Vidaurri girls were welcomed to the school. They were light-skinned and their part-French father's last name sounded acceptably European. The Méndez children, however, were visibly darker and had a Mexican name. They would have to go to the "Mexican" school a few blocks away.

    "No way," an outraged Mrs. Vidaurri exclaimed, and marched all the children home to the farm on which they lived. Her brother and sister-in-law, Gonzalo and Felícitas Méndez, after petitioning school authorities unsuccessfully, brought suit against the school district. Mendez v. Westminster became the first case in which a federal court declared that "separate but equal" was not equal at all.