Beasley: In the aftermath of Emanuel massacre, comprehensive healing key to racial healing

I am not a native South Carolinian, but one of the first things I learned when I moved here in 1980 was that race relations were different than what I had experienced growing up in North Carolina. I did not like the fact that the Confederate flag flew over the State House, and I feared that this symbolized a type of racism I would encounter in everyday life. I was wrong.

I became a teacher at A.C. Flora High School. The new principal, Maurice Waddell, was an African-American, and he was the best boss I ever had. Mr. Waddell understood the dynamics of a high school that was located in a predominantly white part of town but was populated largely by African-American students who were assigned to attend Flora through a gerrymandered labyrinth of required busing. He led faculty and students in an egalitarian manner; race was not a factor in Mr. Waddell’s school leadership. You received his respect when you did the right thing; you experienced his disappointment when you did not.

The best thing I recognized in my Flora teaching career was that black and white students worked together, respected each other and were real friends. I had not seen this in the suburban school where I had taught in North Carolina. At Flora, student leaders came from both races; faculty leaders did, too. I came to think of Flora as a model microcosm, one that demonstrated that both black and white students, and their faculty members, could live and work together as true friends and colleagues, where one’s race was not a factor.

I had always had black friends, but at Flora, I developed deep personal and professional friendships with my African-American colleagues, and I learned much from them about the history of this state, and the sometimes unusual dynamics that had propelled it through the years since the Civil War. Mr. Waddell taught us all that if you truly believe that the races are equal, then everyone deserves your fairness: your respect if they earn it and your disapproval if they need to make some improvements. This is the best philosophy any of us could ever embody.

I have long since left my teaching career, but I think often about all that I learned at A.C. Flora and the truly comfortable, natural environment that existed among all of its students and faculty. During the aftermath of the tragedy in Charleston and with race relations in our state once again under the national microscope, I hope South Carolina can follow Mr. Waddell’s A.C. Flora model, one that calls for comprehensive fairness in dealing with others. I hope South Carolina can emerge from the tragedy with open minds and realistic, inclusive visions for our state’s future.

The citizens of Charleston have impressed us mightily with their measured calm, their sense of forgiveness and their amazing ability to attempt true understanding in the midst of this profound tragedy. The forgiveness that the victims’ families so generously gave to the man who caused them such profound grief is the epitome of strong character and grace. They elevate us all through their actions.

As South Carolinians, we are left to ponder the question: What can we do to ameliorate situations and conditions in our state that allow for the creation of such schisms and hatred? I am a firm believer in taking first steps, and we have taken one such step in initiating action to remove a flag from our State House grounds that continues to cause hurt and sadness to both black and white South Carolinians. Our leaders have demonstrated both insight and understanding. Mr. Waddell would have approved wholeheartedly.

This story was originally published June 28, 2015 at 11:12 PM.