Table Of ContentFirst Strike
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First Strike
Educational Enclosures in Black Los Angeles
Damien M. Sojoyner
University of Minnesota Press
Minneapolis • London
The University of Minnesota Press gratefully acknowledges financial support for the
publication of this book from Scripps College.
“Fear Not of Man” words and music by Dante Smith. Copyright 2000 EMI Blackwood
Music Inc., Empire International Music Inc., and Medina Sounds Music. All rights ad-
ministered by Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 424 Church Street, Suite 1200, Nashville,
Tennessee 37219. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Reprinted by per-
mission of Hal Leonard Corporation.
Copyright 2016 by the Regents of the University of Minnesota
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy-
ing, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published by the University of Minnesota Press
111 Third Avenue South, Suite 290
Minneapolis, MN 55401- 2520
http://www.upress.umn.edu
Printed in the United States of America on acid-f ree paper
The University of Minnesota is an equal-o pportunity educator and employer.
22 21 20 19 18 17 16 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Sojoyner, Damien M., author.
First strike : educational enclosures in Black Los Angeles / Damien M. Sojoyner.
Minneapolis : University of Minnesota Press, 2016. | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016019157 (print) | ISBN 978-0-8166-9753-3 (hc) | ISBN 978-0-8166-9755-7 (pb)
Subjects: LCSH: African Americans—Education—Social aspects—California—Los Angeles. |
Educational sociology—California—Los Angeles. | Racism in education—California—
Los Angeles. | Discrimination in criminal justice administration—California—Los Angeles. |
School discipline—California—Los Angeles.
Classification: LCC LC2803.L6 (print) | DDC 371.829/96079494—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016019157
To Elaine and Godfrey, whose love has always been unconditional.
To Shana, whose love has enabled me to reach levels
I never thought possible.
To Naima and Nesanet, whose love gives my life true meaning.
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Contents
Introduction: The Problematic History between
Schools and Prisons ix
1. The Problem of Black Genius: Black Cultural Enclosures 1
2. In the Belly of the Beast: Ideological Expansion 33
3. Land of Smoke and Mirrors: The Meaning of
Punishment and Control 71
4. Troubled Man: Limitations of the Masculinity Solution 117
5. By All Means Possible: The Historical Struggle over
Black Education 147
Conclusion: Reading the Past and Listening to the Present 189
Acknowledgments 197
Notes 203
Bibliography 239
Index 251
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Introduction
The Problematic History between Schools and Prisons
I sat on the hard, black rubberized seat feeling the tight coil of the en-
meshed springs wanting to release years of pent-u p tension upon my
legs. The bus driver, towing a group of rambunctious teenagers who were
all- too- excited to get out of the confines of school, took very gently to
the precarious conditions of our route. The circuitous road curved and
twisted along a path that led us to an area known as Rancho Palos Verdes.
Although a mere ten miles from my hometown of Carson, California, I
had never ventured along these streets and was slowly taking in my new
surroundings. We were on a field trip to study the various life forms that
inhabited the Pacific Ocean, and I for one was excited; though I had lived
relatively close to water all of my life, it was a rare occurrence to go to the
coastline other than to play along the beach. As the bus driver nimbly took
the mass of yellow steel along an avenue that cut through a valley of small
hills, I was awestruck by the size of huge houses that sat along the hillside.
With massive windows that provided panoramic views of the ocean, the
homes rested in a fashion that gave the appearance that they had been
built in isolation. From my vantage point there was no access road that
led to their location, and there definitely were not any street markers that
provided directions to these monstrosities on the tiny mountain.
As the bus slowly pulled up to a stop sign for what felt like forever, I
was stuck in a momentary feeling of confusion. Outside of the thick pane
window I saw what I thought to be a large park. It had all of the signifi-
ers of what a park in a neighborhood of such wealth should be— a series
of very well- kept buildings outlined by a large, painstakingly manicured
landscape. Flanked by children play areas on the property, I looked to the
sign posted along the street to find out the name of the park, only to be
shocked to read that it was not a park. It was a school. My first and most
long- standing memory of the event since then was one of befuddlement:
there were no gates, no fences, no large imposed barriers. These had been
the signifiers of a school in my childhood and early teenage years. Every
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