Should We Return to Black Schools?

American tech firms are facing a growing conflict between profit and the values they espouse at home.

It only took Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg a few hours to publicly criticize President Donald Trump’s January 2017 executive order banning the U.S. entry of travelers from certain Muslim-dominated nations. His response — soon echoed by several other Silicon Valley CEOs — was in keeping with the traditionally liberal principles promoted by American tech companies: pro-immigration, pro-freedom of expression and supportive of rights for the LGBTQ community and women. Look beyond the U.S., though, and their stances seem less consistent.

The international outrage following the brutal murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, allegedly on the orders of the Saudi Arabian regime, made multiple technology leaders pull out of Riyadh’s 2018 Future Investment Initiative (FII) conference last month. But Khashoggi’s murder is just one of a growing series of tests American tech giants are facing globally that reflect a deepening divide between businesses and the principles they espouse at home.

Howard Fuller wants to cure the education system of its racial biases. For that, he doesn’t mind segregation.

At age 77, Howard Fuller strides along Center Street with the gait of a former standout basketball player while recalling the vibrant community of Black homeowners and entrepreneurs that used to define this once-bustling stretch of Milwaukee’s North Side. “We had businesses and nice homes all around this area,” says Fuller, who grew up here.

A block dominated by houses with peeling paint and patched shingles gives way to the massive dull-brick facade of North Division High School, Fuller’s alma mater. The former Milwaukee schools superintendent and longtime school choice advocate pauses. “It’s hurtful to see what’s not happening here with these kids,” he says.

The school used to be a source of pride for the city’s Black community, a stepping stone to middle-class achievement as its graduates went on to become doctors and businesspeople and win election to Congress. In 2016, not a single child at “North,” as locals call it, tested proficient in math, according to the state’s education department. Enrollment has declined from roughly 1,400 students in 1996 to about 350 students today, says the school’s principal, Keith Carrington.

Living through conflict doesn’t necessarily mean you lose your optimism, a survey has found.

In 2016, five years into the Syrian war — when more than a quarter of a million people had already died and more than 11 million were displaced — Harriet Lamb, CEO of peace and conflict charity International Alert, visited a school for Syrian refugees in Lebanon. In spite of the bloodshed and upheaval, she quickly learned these Syrians hadn’t lost hope. As she walked into a classroom, she caught one teacher in fits of laughter as the class clown explained to him the meaning of diversity: “My cousin always gets good grades and I always get bad ones …”

The class is being taught as a way of building peace. It’s one of several efforts by various organizations to start planning for a Syria no longer at war, in neighboring countries like Lebanon and within Syria itself. Lamb went on to ask another Syrian organizer, Why now? A fair question — at the time the third iteration of international Geneva peace talks on Syria were around the corner, and the country was a complex battleground involving proxy elements and a violent Islamic State. To date, the future of Syria is precarious, even if the war ends and the government remains in power. But in thinking about that positive future, Syria doesn’t appear to be alone.

According to an unprecedented survey by International Alert, the British Council and global research agency RIWI, of 100,000 ordinary people in 15 countries, people living amid conflict are more optimistic about peace than those living in more peaceful countries.