Forged By Love

I wrote this story about an East Texas woman several years ago. East Texas is beautiful, with its pine forests and spanish moss dangling off the branches of centuries-old live oak trees. I love it there because of the scenery, but it's also a region marred by racism. It's frightening, actually. I interviewed this brave woman who was the first black woman to work as a principal in Kilgore, Texas. I loved her story of determination. I'm posting it as a reminder that it's possible to turn your dreams into reality if you want. It's not easy, but it's possible, as this story demonstrates. Kayla, I'm posting this story for you. Keep dreaming, ballerina.

The well that nourishes Tracie Robinson’s confidence was filled early in her life by two strong women: her mother, Mary Malrey, and her mentor, Nerlene Faber.

Each word of encouragement from the women was a drop that slowly filled a reservoir of strength in a girl they were preparing for the opportunities denied them in the segregated South of their own youth. By the time Robinson was a student at Sabine High School, that well was the foundation of an emotional ecosystem where dreams took root and flourished.

At 28, Robinson is the first black woman to fill an assistant principal’s position in the Kilgore school district. Anyone watching her handle the demands of her job at Kilgore Heights Elementary School can see that her poise was forged by love. During a period of five minutes, she’s handed messages, takes calls and listens to a teacher’s account of a student’s misconduct. The school’s halls and the office outside hers rocks with activity. There are times when waves from that sea of movement spill into her office, but they are powerless against her composure.

"It’s not easy being a smart black woman in East Texas," she said frankly as she answered the phone and pasted cut-out animals to squares of construction paper. "It’s not easy to succeed in a society built on oil money, where power is inherited."

Robinson’s confidence is harnessed to reality. She knows that problems can’t be solved unless they are identified, and doing anything less is unacceptable to her.

"Of course racism exists," she said. "Who would deny that? But there’s nothing wrong with saying that blacks, whites and Hispanics are each different. We’ve fallen into this pattern where we’re afraid that if we celebrate our cultures and our diversity, we might have to admit we’re different. Well, you can just look at us and tell we’re different, and that’s not a bad thing."

Robinson is the third of four daughters, all of them college graduates. She and her sister, Yolanda, have master’s degrees.

"My parents always told us they wanted us to live better than they did," she said. "It was just understood that we would all go to college. It’s a compliment to my parents that all of their children graduated, but I think the fact that four daughters graduated really says a lot about them."

Robinson’s mother and Miss Nerlene knew early on that it takes a village to raise a child. Miss Nerlene looked upon the Malrey girls as her own, nudging them gently toward college. She and her husband, George, believe it’s impossible to succeed without an education, either formal or informal. Their children grew up hearing the mantra, and the Malrey girls heard it in a hundred different ways.

"I told Tracie that a high school education was better than no education," said Miss Nerlene, who taught at Kilgore Middle School for 25 years. "But I told them that a college education would open all doors."

The instruction Robinson and her sisters received was never invaded by talk of limitations. They weren’t told they could expect to reach a certain level and hope for no more, giving Robinson more reason to disregard gender and race in her pursuits.

"My mother didn’t have the opportunities I did," she said. "She’s my hero. I don’t know how she was able to be a mother, wife, friend, church member and work all at once. She struggled to keep her marriage together. Everyone who knows my family will tell you we aren’t perfect, but my dad always made sure we had what we needed," she said.

Otis Robinson worked for East Texas Water Disposal for 25 years, and he told his daughters about a time when black children attended schools where the books were hand-me-downs from the white schools. His stories were told without anger; they were simply articulated as fact. Mr. Otis’ daughter grew up believing the world could be theirs, but it wasn’t going to be handed to them.

"We were taught how to work for our money and to be responsible," Robinson said. "Because of what I’ve been able to do, I think I can be a role model."

Robinson and her husband, Harold, have three children. She taught English in Houston before taking a job as assistant principal at Maude Laird Middle School in Kilgore in 2001, and Harold is still adjusting to the move.

"He tells me I’m more image-conscious here," she said. "I know people are watching me, so I’m not likely to hold his hand in Wal-Mart. He’s still not used to life in East Texas."

Throughout February, Robinson has filled the curriculum at Kilgore Heights with black-history projects. Each week, the students complete work that exposes them to black men and women whose contributions changed American culture. The students will present a program at 9 a.m. Feb. 27 celebrating black history, with Kilgore Independent School district trustee George Faber as the master of ceremonies.

"Children need to know their history," she said. "Without history there is no forward motion, no future. Black History Month gives us the chance to celebrate diversity."

As she patiently handles the responsibilities of her position, she explains that she wants to be known as a fair administrator. She became an educator, she said, to give all children the opportunities she was given.

"When I look at some of the girls at school, I think, ‘Baby, I need to get ahold of you like Mrs. Faber got ahold of me.’"