Preface
Dr. Byas has been my mentor and friend since 1968. Our paths first crossed when I took a job with the Georgia Teachers and Education Association (GTEA). At that time, two teachers associations still existed in Georgia: the Georgia Education Association and the GTEA, which was started by black educators at a time when they were excluded from the Georgia Education Association (GEA). I was a white teacher looking for work in Atlanta after two years of classroom teaching, when I met Dr. Horace Tate, the executive director of the GTEA. After conversing awhile, he offered me the position of director of research and publications at GTEA. I was young, white, naïve, and idealistic. Green as grass. Ulysses Byas was also a new employee at GTEA, and he was a black, middle-aged, experienced school administrator who was “seasoned” in the ways of segregation politics. He became my colleague, mentor, and
Over the next two years, we worked together on various projects, including the coauthoring of magazine articles about educational issues facing black teachers and the association. In 1970, the GTEA and GEA merged, becoming the Georgia Association of Educators. Mr. Byas left shortly after the merger to accept the position of superintendent of schools in Macon County, Alabama—Tuskegee is the county seat—and I left to work with the nascent Atlanta Street Academy as a teacher and college prep advisor. Three years later, with the status of the Street Academy in jeopardy, I went to Macon County, Alabama, and applied for work with my former mentor. There I worked with three federal projects, assisted with Mr. Byas’s research for his doctoral dissertation, and resumed our friendship. In 1977, we again went in different directions, with him moving to a superintendency in Long Island, New York, and me getting married and becoming a teacher in Columbus,
Years later, when Dr. Byas retired, he and his wife moved back to his first hometown, Macon, Georgia, and we embarked on this project soon after. Beginning in 2002, Dr. Byas and I recorded several interviews in which he reviewed his years in Tuskegee, how he arrived there, what he found, what happened, and why he ultimately left. Having been there for the last three years of his tenure, I was aware of some of this story but had never known all of the details. In fact, the real reasons behind his decision to leave Tuskegee were not known to anyone until many years later. The story is rather dramatic and is detailed in 5.
Dr. Byas’s tenure at Macon County Schools, 1970–1976, was critical to the health of that school system. The issues he tackled were manifold and tricky. Some he attacked directly, but many required other tactics. The white students had exited the system to attend the new “segregation academy” supported and encouraged by the George C. Wallace government. Many of these students had family members still working with the public schools. Supplies and materials purchased with public funds were disappearing, and it was strongly suspected that they were being siphoned to the private school. Rather than attack this problem “head on,” Byas started instituting badly needed systems of accountability: systems that were fiscally wise as well as politically wise. By this flanking tactic, the problem of disappearing supplies was drastically curtailed. In the light of current practice, Byas’s policies and innovations may seem obvious, but at that time and in that place, these policies instituted large and small changes, which many people supported and applauded. No doubt, others felt the sting of losing their hold on practices and powers that they had enjoyed for years.
Another tactic that Byas used to the advantage of the school system was his penchant for networking. Byas gained many admirers inside and outside the educational establishment. Some of these people were vital links to the US Department of Education and assisted in getting grants for Macon County. As he describes it, the first few years in Tuskegee were also years of strong support from the Alabama Department of Education. Nevertheless, the Macon County School System was under scrutiny. Even the superintendent’s salary was limited by state restrictions. When the issue of the Alabama Educational Television Network came up, things took a decided turn. This story is still only dimly understood, but the shadowy influence of opposition and oppression became more visible. With auditors in perpetual attendance and with women picketing the administration offices day after day, the employees were aware that something strange was happening. However, we did not know why this was so. Not until Dr. Byas told his story to a group of supporters in the 1990s did anyone know the context of this opposition and his decision to leave Macon County without a fight.
Dr. Byas brought all the necessary skills and attitudes to his role as superintendent. How many others would have known how to examine a school as a carpenter would? How many would have crawled under the building as he did at the Prairie Farms School to observe the termite damage? How many people had the ability to also create accountability systems and to work with his opponents without either bullying or caving in? How many could come up with a strategy to test the honesty and loyalty of employees without confrontation? How many would have had the spiritual guidance and strength to speak out in spite of knowing his job could be jeopardized? How many could hold their own counsel for more than twenty years? Who would be so concerned about the welfare of a couple who had deceived him thirty years ago that he would withhold their names to this day? How many black people could accept and work with white people, knowing that many white people were racists and unwilling to
Dr. Byas possessed all these abilities and more. That is why I admire him as one of the greatest mentors in my life.
NOTE: Dr. Byas died in 2012.