one campus, two schools.
the staircase marks a division between more than just the schools.
national merit scholars roam the halls of the second floor, while students on the first floor struggle to pass STARR testing.
in french class upstairs, a predominantly white student body gathers, while one floor down, the student body comprised of minorities isn't even offered the opportunity to take french.
historically, segregation in schools was declared unconstitutional in 1954, with the brown v. board of education ruling, yet in one northeast austin campus, segregation continues to rear it's ugly head.
the staircase marks a division between more than just the schools.
national merit scholars roam the halls of the second floor, while students on the first floor struggle to pass STARR testing.
in french class upstairs, a predominantly white student body gathers, while one floor down, the student body comprised of minorities isn't even offered the opportunity to take french.
historically, segregation in schools was declared unconstitutional in 1954, with the brown v. board of education ruling, yet in one northeast austin campus, segregation continues to rear it's ugly head.
the location.
an overview.
student stories.
historically speaking.
segregation in statistics.
in their words, through their eyes.
a student solution.
A gaggle of students file through the school doors each morning. Like any other high schoolers, they dread tests and papers, look forward to gossiping with friends at lunch and ready themselves for athletics after school. But there is one thing strikingly different on the LBJ Early College High School campus: there are two distinct student body populations.
The segregation is palpable. It’s seen so clearly in the skin color of students and felt as groups of students from each school rarely interact with one another. Yet it's not the students' fault.
“We’re the experts on it," LASA student Emily Yi said in an interview with KUT. "We live this life every day. We know what the tensions are. We know where things are complicated, and we know things we need to fix.”
With their knowledge and expertise, LASA and LBJ students responded to the segregation with a set of solutions and one common goal: to expand learning opportunities available to all students.
“We do not want to force interaction between schools,” their plan states. “Rather, we want to dismantle the barriers that currently prevent LBJ/LASA from sharing resources and experiences.”
In hopes of bridging the divide that exists in their community, students began with short term goals. These include aligning bell schedules and UIL activities, as well as lunch periods. The students call for allowed participation in clubs from both student bodies and the creation of common spaces that students from both schools can share.
In terms of longer-term goals, the solutions recommend that students should be able to take classes in both schools, so long as they meet academic prerequisites and requirements.
Yet, long term solutions are largely unknown as the future location of LASA is uncertain.
A recent bond proposal suggested to increase the size of LASA would move the school to Eastside Memorial, ending their relationship with LBJ entirely. The price tag ranges from $946.1 million to $1.02 billion.
But the cloud of segregation still looms overhead, begging the question: does relocating LASA only serve to make segregation worse? For Trustee Ted Gordon, that answer is a clear yes.
“I’m pretty bitter about the whole thing,” said Gordon in an interview with the Austin American-Statesman, as the removal of LASA leaves LBJ vulnerable to closure due to under-enrollment.
The segregation is palpable. It’s seen so clearly in the skin color of students and felt as groups of students from each school rarely interact with one another. Yet it's not the students' fault.
“We’re the experts on it," LASA student Emily Yi said in an interview with KUT. "We live this life every day. We know what the tensions are. We know where things are complicated, and we know things we need to fix.”
With their knowledge and expertise, LASA and LBJ students responded to the segregation with a set of solutions and one common goal: to expand learning opportunities available to all students.
“We do not want to force interaction between schools,” their plan states. “Rather, we want to dismantle the barriers that currently prevent LBJ/LASA from sharing resources and experiences.”
In hopes of bridging the divide that exists in their community, students began with short term goals. These include aligning bell schedules and UIL activities, as well as lunch periods. The students call for allowed participation in clubs from both student bodies and the creation of common spaces that students from both schools can share.
In terms of longer-term goals, the solutions recommend that students should be able to take classes in both schools, so long as they meet academic prerequisites and requirements.
Yet, long term solutions are largely unknown as the future location of LASA is uncertain.
A recent bond proposal suggested to increase the size of LASA would move the school to Eastside Memorial, ending their relationship with LBJ entirely. The price tag ranges from $946.1 million to $1.02 billion.
But the cloud of segregation still looms overhead, begging the question: does relocating LASA only serve to make segregation worse? For Trustee Ted Gordon, that answer is a clear yes.
“I’m pretty bitter about the whole thing,” said Gordon in an interview with the Austin American-Statesman, as the removal of LASA leaves LBJ vulnerable to closure due to under-enrollment.