A state Senate committee will take up a bill Tuesday that could reduce the minority representation on school boards in Lynchburg, Martinsville, Roanoke and perhaps elsewhere.
That’s not the intent of the bill, of course, but that could be the unintended consequence.
I write this column not to make a case for or against this bill, but to alert legislators to some sensitive local racial dynamics that may not be immediately apparent in Richmond.
The bill in question is SB 1404, by state Sen. Stella Pekarsky, D-Fairfax County. It would require that all school boards in Virginia be elected. In practice, this would apply to only 12 localities and 11.5 school boards, because that’s how many still have appointed school boards. The one-half comes from the combined James City County / Williamsburg school system where Williamsburg appoints its members while James City County elects theirs. The only 11 localities that still appoint school boards are: Franklin city, Galax, Hanover County, Hopewell, Lynchburg, Manassas Park, Martinsville, Poquoson, Richmond County, Roanoke and Salem.
The key word here is “still” and before we get to the present, we should deal with the past. Historically, all school boards in Virginia were appointed, and they were appointed in a somewhat convoluted way that in some cases involved court-appointed selection panels. Politically, this was a way to keep school board choices as far away from voters as possible — and in the hands of the political machine of U.S. Sen. Harry F. Byrd Sr., since those judging appointing the school board panels owed their appointments to the legislature, which was firmly in the grip of the Byrd Machine. This system was set up long before integrated schools were even an issue in Virginia, but its continuance was very much tied up with integration — and the Byrd Machine’s “Massive Resistance” to it.
In 1947, the General Assembly granted Arlington County the right to elect its own school board. Even then, Arlington, peopled by a growing number of relative newcomers to Virginia, had different ideas on how things should be done. Therefore, it should not come as a surprise to learn that when the U.S. Supreme Court ordered schools be desegregated, the Arlington school board voted to defy Byrd’s Massive Resistance and do so. The result: The state took away Arlington’s power to elect its school board. All this is ugly history but it’s history nonetheless.
Fast forward through the Civil Rights Movement. Not until 1992 did the General Assembly approve elected school boards again — if localities approved one in a referendum. Over the years, virtually every such referendum put before voters has passed, until we get to today — with those 12 holdouts.
I tried to reach Pekarsky last week to talk about her bill, but we didn’t connect. However, in presenting her bill to a subcommittee of the Senate Education and Health Committee, she did a fine job of explaining her rationale for the bill: People ought to be able to elect their school board. She pointed out that Virginia is just one of four states that still have appointed school boards. “People love democracy,” she said.
That they do, which is why almost all those referendums have passed. However, “almost all” is not the same as all. Some speakers pointed out that her bill would invalidate the will of voters in Hanover County, who in 2023 voted 52.3% to 47.7% to keep their appointed school board. Pekarsky wasn’t impressed by that vote. “Referendums fail all the time,” she said, “because people with money control the process.”
Perhaps so, but here’s what the speakers opposing her bill didn’t mention and maybe couldn’t mention. I am most familiar with Roanoke, which has never had a referendum on whether to hold an elected school board, and where at least one recent petition drive to force a referendum didn’t muster enough signatures.
The unspoken reason — at least unspoken on the record — why Roanoke doesn’t have an elected school board involves racial politics. However, they are exactly the opposite of the racial reasons decades ago.
Roanoke is a majority white city: 57% white, 28.7% Black, the rest various other racial identifications.
However, a majority of students in Roanoke’s school system are non-white: 41.5% Black, 26.4% Hispanic or other, and 32.1% white, according to the school system.
This creates a potentially touchy situation: A majority white city with a school system where minorities predominate. More to the point, a majority white city government. Roanoke has always had at least one Black member on its seven-member city council since Noel Taylor was elected in 1970, but it’s often had only one Black member. That’s the case now, where the council consists of one Black member, one Hispanic member, and four white members with one seat vacant.
However, in my memory, that majority-white Roanoke city council has always been careful to make sure there were multiple Black members on the school board. At times, a majority-white council has appointed a majority-Black school board. At present, while five of seven council members are white, only two of the school board members are.
The concern about an elected school board in Roanoke is that an elected board would wind up looking more like the council — with a white majority administering a system of mostly non-white students.
That’s hardly something that Alan Seibert, who spoke on behalf the Roanoke School Board last week before the Senate subcommittee, could say in public, but that’s the local reality. What seems a good philosophical idea in Fairfax County or Richmond — that all school boards should be elected — could inadvertently upset some delicate balances in Roanoke.
I’m less familiar with the unspoken protocols in other communities but I can certainly count. Right now, Lynchburg has two Black members on its seven-person city council, but six of its nine school board members are minorities. In Martinsville, two members of the five-member city council are Black, but four of the five members on the school board are Black. I notice, too, that Hopewell has a majority white city council but has appointed a Black majority to its school board. That’s certainly not the case everywhere: Hanover County’s all-white Board of Supervisors has appointed an all-white School Board in a county that’s about 16% non-white.
Perhaps the principle of electing school boards should override local customs and traditions, even if they are meant to boost minority representation. That’s up for legislators to decide. However, one of the speakers last week, Stephanie Kim of Hanover County, said the bill would affect “only 11” school boards (not counting that hybrid situation). That’s true, but in those cases, “only” seems like a code word for “someplace other than where I live.” What seems a small number in Richmond could have big impacts in Roanoke and elsewhere.
Want more politics and analysis?
I write a weekly political newsletter, West of the Capital, that goes out every Friday afternoon. Last week I looked at the constitutional amendments the legislature has passed (and might send to voters next year). I gave an update on the governor’s race. And I looked at how Virginia’s two senators voted on some legislation before Congress. This week? Too soon to tell, but you can sign up for West of the Capital or any of our other free newsletters below:
