Pretty Little Rich Kid With Long Hair

By W. F. Twyman, Jr.

Virginia Tech Homecoming Queen Marva Felder

A chilly good morning from San Diego!

The more I write about race and the human condition, the more I bump into the dimension of generations. How we perceive race is a factor of the times we knew in our youth. Last night as I researched the changing demographics in Chesterfield County, Virginia public schools, I felt part of a Lost Generation. Salem Church Junior High is now Salem Church Middle School. Why the name change? The American Soviet Mentality In the fall of 1972, I entered sixth grade in a brand new, never knew segregation, 3.74% black school nestled among middle-class subdivisions. We were the manifest destiny of a New South. The expectations were high as we brought a better way of being into existence. Today, Salem Church is 34% Hispanic and 31% Black and plagued with below average academic performance. The lowest possible rankings can be found at the Great Schools link. 80% of students are from low-income families. Salem Church Middle School These children will perceive the universe differently from me. Same physical school, different generation. I entered Thomas Dale High School in the 10th grade in the fall of 1976. Principal J. Wilson Crump had shepherded Thomas Dale from segregation through the portal of desegregation to a southern, small-town integrated school by the spring of 1979. We were a 9.8% black school and I was Student Council President. My Vice-President James B. Friend III, grandson of the real estate developer James B. Friend, Sr., was a smart scion of the Friend family respected by all. ( One sister of James became a prominent graduate of the University of Virginia and a doctor. Another sister graduated from the University of Virginia and became a lawyer. Normal life outcomes for a smart and gifted family.) Our Sophomore Class President was Barry West, a character. And then there was Senior Class Vice-President Marva Felder.

Today, Thomas Dale is an underperforming 36% black and 20% hispanic school. There is security at the front desk. Car break-ins are a known thing. Thomas Dale High School This generation will never perceive race as my generation perceived race.

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To understand the importance of generations in race space and time, we have to let go of dogma. All black Americans are not the same. Even in the 1960s and 1970s in a southern small-town, kids came of age ambitious and self-confident and smart. High intelligence was valued as a thing. Family was cherished as a Roman virtue, pietas. One’s family name was one’s calling card in the county. Were you a Friend? Well, I know your people. A Twyman? Your people have been around for generations. Let’s examine the experience of my high school classmate, Marva Felder. We can avoid abstractions and focus on the life of one concrete, specific black American teenager in the New South a stone’s throw from Richmond, Virginia.

As you read about Marva, a child of the 1970s, remember these were the times when one could ride one’s bicycle to Harvey’s Supermarket on Jeff Davis as a big adventure. One didn’t lock one’s bicycle. Why should one? One left the house unlocked. Why would one lock the house? One trusted everyone around, black or white did not matter.

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The granddaughter of a doctor and the daughter of Tuskegee College and Spelman College graduates, Marva’s earliest memories are of life in Germany. Dad was in the military. On one fateful day, the young Marva reached for an iron and burned her arm. Her first memory which all parents can relate to.

Marva began her public school life in Richmond City public schools. These schools were predominantly black. Marva’s experience was not pleasant. She never felt challenged to learn. Her parents made the command decision to move to the suburb of Chester. Marva entered middle school as a sixth grader in the fall of 1972. The difference between county schools and city schools was very big for Marva. In the city schools, Marva did not recall studying. Here grades were ok but she never brought homework home from school.

This non-sense ceased down in Chester.

Marva had a very hard time adjusting to county schools. Her first semester grades were poor, especially in math and science. High standards compelled Marva to look within and reassess. The days of coasting in school were over. She had to go home and study. She was the only black student in her class. Who among us cannot relate to being the only black in one’s class? For me and my family members and others of my generation, place and time, this was a given. A given and we were stronger for it but I digress.

Did Marva stumble under the pressure? Did Marva develop low self-worth in the face of evil white expectations in the classroom? You know, Marva came of strong people like me and my cousins and neighbors. Marva bent her destiny to her will. In other words, Marva enjoyed her experience! The atmosphere was different from city schools. No longer did Marva have to navigate people who didn’t like Marva because she was attractive. Pretty Privilege Students in the city perceived Marva as rich because of the clothes she wore. No one cared in middle school in Chester in 1972. No one.

There is no one black culture. Some people care about clothes. Some people care about smartness.

The city kids perceived Marva as a pretty little rich kid with long hair. In middle school in Chester in 1972, Marva could just be. She had no problem with race. So many black parents were making decisions in the 1970 to 1972 era. The parents were choosing one future and experience over another future and experience for their smart and gifted children. More writers, scholars and intellectuals should write about these times of transition.

Marva learned how to study in Chester schools.

Marva is my kind of people in many ways. We knew the same generational experience. Once while in the city schools, Marva recalled two white kids who came out of private school. They were incredibly smart. They would get straight As without studying or trying (just like my Mom who would tease me because I had to study to get top grades.) Marva learned to associate private schools with smarts just like me. She vowed in school that her kids would always go to a private school because that is where you really learn. I was the same way as I admired the energy coming out of St. Christopher’s and St. Catherine’s schools from afar.

We don’t talk about how our generation valued smarts and private schools as we led small-town lives in the 1970s. But we should.

Another dimension of our generational experience would be the best friend. Both Marva and I had best friends who happened to be white. Our respective best friends were smart at the top of the class. We became competitive with our friends which made us smarter. Marva’s competition with her straight A friend meant Marva moved up from being a C average student to an A student. Competition upped her game. She learned how to study in the New South.

Conclusion: Race was never an issue in Marva’s life in Chester schools. She was taught to move along in the presence of prejudice and bigotry. She was never confronted with racism in the 1970s in a southern suburb. Our schools were stronger than city schools but less challenging than private schools. Because we all valued achievement and intelligence, the number of blacks in our classes was beside the point. Marva today is a veterinarian.

The generations today at Salem Church and Thomas Dale are of a different cast.

Marva’s Experience in City and County Schools