When you drive into Claiborne County, Mississippi, you get a sense of the area before you see any signs. The occasional gas station with a hand-painted price board, long stretches of cracked road, and nearby pine trees. The only high school in the entire county, Port Gibson High School, is located somewhere along that peaceful path. As you pass it, you get the impression that the building has witnessed too much to need an explanation.
When the school first opened in 1924, segregation lines in Mississippi were so rigidly established that no one dared to challenge them. Only white students were allowed to attend Port Gibson High. Black children, on the other hand, were sent to either the Claiborne County Training School, which did not even offer classes beyond the tenth grade until 1942, or Alcorn College High School. Official write-ups often overlook that detail, but it’s important. In the eyes of most Americans, a school is not truly a school if the last years of education are withheld. It is a pattern of holding.
Nearly all of the white students left after integration. That’s the line, stated simply and without drama, that can be found buried in history. A sentence like that carries a lot of weight, which is difficult to ignore. Currently, all students are categorized as economically disadvantaged, and 99 percent of the student body is African American. All of the children are eligible for the free lunch program. No one pays a discounted price. No one pays in full.
Approximately 358 students are enrolled in grades nine through twelve, with a discernible decline by senior year. By the time graduation draws near, the ninth-grade class usually shrinks to about 150. This pattern is well-known to educators in rural America, and it raises issues that cannot be resolved by test results alone. What causes students to vanish? Family responsibilities, employment, transportation, and the grind of poverty that doesn’t appear in a state assessment column.
Despite this, the graduation rate is 91%, which is close to the median for Mississippi. That number is worth pausing over. Getting nine out of ten students to earn a diploma is not insignificant in a county this small and under such financial strain. It’s possible that the figure represents sincere effort from educators who are overworked in 25 full-time roles. It might also represent the kind of administrative leeway that smaller schools are able to provide when a larger urban district is unable to. Most likely both.
The academic picture is more nuanced. The percentage of people who are proficient in mathematics is 60%, which is reasonable. The reading percentage is 20%. Science at age 23. It’s the kind of detail that makes you wonder what’s going on in those classrooms because of the unusual disparity between math and reading. An entire grade can be transformed by an algebra-proficient teacher. A generation can be left behind by a reading curriculum that never quite takes off. Both appear to be occurring simultaneously.
The middle school currently occupies the former Port Gibson High School building, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. You’ll see why if you walk by it. The brickwork has a dignity that contrasts with the modesty of the surrounding town. Thirty girls were taken to a Women in Science and Technology event in 1995 by a teacher named Glendora Alexander-Muhammad. Although this event did not make national news, it likely had a significant impact on the students. Small actions, in small spaces, frequently do.
Depending on how you count, Port Gibson High’s national ranking ranges from 13,427 to 17,901. It is located between 160 and 230 inside Mississippi. In contrast to the place’s reality, those figures seem icy. Seeing schools like this continue to operate gives me the impression that spreadsheets are never telling the whole story. In Port Gibson, something is taking place that is difficult to quantify. The question of whether the rest of the nation decides to take notice is quite different.
