Photo from New York Times article, January 4, 2006 in an piece entitled:  "Boys Choir of Harlem Vows that Eviction will not be its Finale"

   With less than two weeks before the new school year begins for New York public school students, Choir Academy of Harlem students face yet another year of uncertainty. Our leadership is questionable, programming incomplete, students don’t know who their teachers are or if they even have one. We do not know what type of school our children are attending and whether or not they will be wearing the same school uniform. In addition, there is news that we will now have to share our building with a local charter school. And the only correspondence received by parents has been a letter from a private charter group that parents reached out to last year that turned more hostile and unstable than our then current circumstances. This raises the newest concern that the Department of Education disclosed student records for the out-of-state private charter group to obtain the list of student addresses. To make matters even more complicated, neither our city’s education department leaders nor the new charter leaders who supposedly will share our building [according to media reports] have the courtesy to return our phone calls or email inquiries.

Last year families were criticized for holding student sit-ins and community rallies that insisted on equal services. Our requests for school necessities like, books, class schedules without duplications from previous semesters besides the possibility of classes held during actual school daytime hours and perhaps teachers in every classroom seemed reasonable to us. Instead of solutions, our parental concerns brought about friction with the city that made us seem unreasonable, labeling us as troublemakers. This academic year approaching seems to point toward even more public education apartheid.

The cultural deficiency in my own life, led to a new dream for my sons. It was Harlem that I believed would make my young men-in-training, grown up men of means. But the reality that I faced in the New York educational system created an even greater deficiency. My recent experience has brought new meaning to child-sacrifice.

In retrospect, I realize that much of my personal educational experience I took for granted, it seemed to be an effortless process, smooth sailing in my middle-America suburb. But to my surprise for urban minorities of humble means in New York City the experience can be ominous. The educational disparity that our children are facing is criminal.

Although we came from a lineage of distinction that was apparent at first glance, there was something even more captivating and dignified about the young men of The Boys Choir of Harlem. And that is what I wanted for my sons: a sense of self-worth, honorable, respectful, intelligent and dedicated to a pursuit of significance. I pressed toward that goal with assertion that tilted toward relentlessness. After home schooling my two sons the first year we moved to New York to help acclimate them to big city culture, my oldest son would make it in to the prestigious academy built around the Boys Choir of Harlem at his first audition and interview. My youngest son progressively built a personal desire to make it in to the school until his own determination granted him a seat in the school two years later.

During our first audition experience, seated in the hallway, I witnessed Girls’ Choir conductor Lorna Meyers lining up her female choristers for dismissal. She commanded perfection, and the group of 30 or so girls exhausted several attempts before they all got it just right. Each of the girls was required to gracefully stand erect with great poise, focused and in a straight line. If one failed to do so, they were all held accountable. I was sold. Even the first PTA meeting had an intimacy and sense of entitlement that let one know they belonged to something very special. Special, in deed, we were the parents of celebrity choristers, which outweighed all our circumstances. I remember the meeting being reasonably full, but mostly that we were all asked to make a circle around the auditorium for prayer. Without doubt, I had made it to my dream place. Finally, home.

But in 2003, four years into the dream and to our detriment, we were struck with a blow that would send us in a rapid downward spiral. The beginning of trouble started in the middle of my eldest son's senior year, December 2003. Now I pray that we have just seen the bottom and we are now on the road to recovery as my youngest enters his senior year 2006-07.

Before the much-publicized scandal plaguing the Boys Choir of Harlem, there were certain imperfections in the integrated school and choral program, but nothing that harmed the unrivaled benefits of the organization.  The resources were sparse, because like other low-income urban centers, the school was under-funded. Extracurricular opportunities, besides artistic possibilities were at times compromised. However, what the students were getting to build their mind, will, intellect and character through the Boys Choir of Harlem system outshined the shortcomings. My son also noticed certain areas that could be improved and he was always encouraged to find a way to be part of the solution not the problem, and to be a person to affect change and not the one to complain.

In fact, it was that same advice coupled with my determination to never let our dream die that led me to assist in preserving the Boys & Girls Choirs of Harlem legacy. In less than three years my involvement in several capacities relating to the Choir community has been astounding. What should have been easily solved turned out to be a battle of wills and nobody was willing to ease up. It appeared that some powerful bureaucrat wanted to sink this Boys Choir of Harlem ship and never considered that they were sinking our children as well.