Michael Paul Williams: Closing John B. Cary would be tragic

John B. Cary Model Elementary School once represented the promise of a racially and economically integrated Richmond school system. It was a place where a middle-class kid could find himself flanked by classmates from Windsor Farms and public housing, to everyone's benefit.

Such diversity was part of the school's mission. Cary was designated as a model school in 1969, a year before crosstown busing was court-ordered to achieve what would be a fleeting racial balance.

Whatever turmoil plagued the school district at large, Cary was a glorious oasis of scholastic harmony. Parents clamored to get their children into the school across from Byrd Park on Maplewood Avenue.

"Cary was the school," recalled Kimberly Gray, a Richmond School Board member who was a Cary Cougar from 1975 to 1981.

In 1987 and 1988, Cary was recognized as one of Virginia's outstanding elementary schools. But beyond high achievement, it was Cary's uniquely diverse environment that its alumni fondly recall.

"I still have many of the same friends," Gray said. "It was an experience I still can't put into words."

Cary is not the school it was during its halcyon years. It has lost some of its diversity and is at risk of being closed because of an enrollment that has sunk to about 210 students. Joining Cary on the chopping block under this school rezoning proposal are Fisher Elementary (322 students) and Summer Hill Elementary. (Two new schools are under construction nearby.)

Cary made federal Adequate Yearly Progress and is fully accredited by the state Education Department. Fisher, historically, has been among the city's higher-performing elementary schools. Why would a school district striving to improve student achievement cut off two of its stronger limbs?

Cary's closing has more resonance because of what it once symbolized. To close it would be an expression of defeat.

Perhaps Cary and Fisher are being offered up as a gambit, since both schools have constituents powerful enough to ward off closure. But even the threat sends a discordant signal.

"Closing any school is difficult," Gray said. But more factors need to be taken into consideration than enrollment and capacity. "We need to look at socio-economics, and we need to look at the performance of the schools," she said.

"What I don't want to see happen is white schools getting whiter and black schools getting blacker," Gray said, nor does she want anything done to widen the school district's economic and academic disparities.

In the two decades since the retirement of Principal Russell Cooley, Cary has experienced occasional internal strife. Some in-zone parents have pulled their children from the school. Fewer than 39 percent of the kids in the Cary zone attend the school.

Increasing that percentage should be a priority. Cary's attendance zone includes the neighborhoods of Byrd Park, the Carillon, Carytown and the Museum District. There's no reason it shouldn't be able to sustain a viable school.

Instead of closing undercapacity schools, school officials need to focus on filling them. Nothing transformational will happen in the city until middle-class families regain confidence in its school system, rather than a few select schools.

In the meantime, closing Cary would be a tragic mistake, akin to closing Maggie L. Walker as a Richmond public high school. Walker — a proud symbol of black achievement in the face of segregation — was allowed to fade away with barely an acknowledgement of its historical significance. It sat empty and vandalized before its rebirth as a regional governor's school.

Cary once glowed with the realization of what we can achieve when we come together. It can be a model for a resurgent school system.