Stephen Ray:  

A good story always begins with some introspective soul gazing at the clouds as the pass by, or listening to the sea crashing on the rocks below. My story begins on New York Blvd., right across the street from the shoe shop and next door to Tony's soda shop. P.S. 52, one of the best in the city, back in the days when a public school education New York could get you anywhere. I, we, had the great fortune of having Ms. Davis, one of the first Black female principals in New York City, as our fearless leader. Being kids, we had no idea how special that was. Nor do I believe did we have any idea how special our little world was there at 52. For Black folks, I don't know that it got any better. Props to Mrs. Deele, Mrs. Cohen, Mrs. Payne and Mrs. Bloch, but especially to Delia Deele. She busted our butts in the 6th grade because she believed in us. That was a wonderful gift. From there it was on to 231. Tri-Community at the high of the social experiement called integration. Kids from Springfield Gardens, Rosedale and whatever that neigborhood was on the other side of the Belt Parkway (just kidding). One thin I never could understand though, why was it that they could find enough seats in the SP class for the kids from Rosedales, but the kids from 52 got a class of their very own 7H? Things that make you go hmmm. Anyway, 231 was an interesting time. Who could forget Mr. Stoesell and the Goober Peas song? Or, Mr. Bernstein and his terrible jokes. Or, Mr. C. What was his real name? I may be betraying a bit too much here, but I have to give props to Felice Tannenbaum. God, that girl was a godess in her low-rider hiphuggers. I digress. How did the experiemtnt that was 231 turn out? Was it overtaken by the forces of history? I drove by it a few weeks and wondered what it is like now. Anybody know? I think the thing that remember most is that we, the kids, were trying to figure ou...Expand for more