We Philadelphians have a special kind of love for this old city. It is a love rooted in family, food, neighborhoods, and, yes, our schools. As a “lifer” in the Philadelphia School District, from 1999 to 2012, I have a vested interest in its future.

Over the last two years, I’ve observed the District’s budget crisis from the comfort of my computer screen in my dorm room at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. But this past May I traveled 400 miles back home and took action alongside hundreds of other Philadelphians who refuse to accept the meager hand being dealt to Philly students.

The sounds of young, hopeful voices echoed through municipal halls during City Council sessions this spring. Philly’s children understand that the state is depriving them of a high-quality education and they are eager to do their part.

On May 22, I marched the few blocks from City Hall to the governor’s office with more than 100 high school students. They gave speeches with their teachers looking on proudly, witnessing the fight as it moved into young hands.

Teenagers from every corner of the city marched behind a drum line of their peers down Broad Street. Out of the music rose chants of “No ifs, no buts, no education cuts!” muffling the sound of pouring rain and street traffic. It was then that I was struck by the connection to a powerful movement of the past.

The palpable emotion and unwavering unity of the students paralleled images and stories of the 1963 Birmingham Children’s Crusade. Thousands of children in Birmingham had watched the noble actions of their parents and decided that they, too, had a place in the fight for civil rights. Much like advocates in the 1960s, Philly’s parents and students have turned their anger, fear, and frustration into action. Every day, they model responsible, peaceful, and necessary activism. In 1963, parents and children were catalysts for change in Alabama. In 2014, Pennsylvania families are again organizing for the restoration of the most basic of civil rights.

Not long after the student march, City Council adopted the legislation that would send the lion’s share of revenue from an extra 1 percent sales tax to schools. The public proved their power on a local level, but with a deficit still too wide, advocates swiftly shifted their focus to our state’s capitol, the primary target of the fight.

We live the serious and frightening struggle of our schools every day. For the last few years, this financial and educational hole has only gotten deeper. Philly can often feel like a fishbowl, but we are not alone and our stories have not been silenced. After long days in City Hall and the Capitol, I felt instantly recharged when I read emails or Facebook posts from friends eight hours south of the city, who were equally concerned about the state of Philly education. From the comfort of my computer screen, I realized we were being heard.

When the children of Birmingham made their voices heard, they began to stir uninformed Americans through images and television clips. Philadelphia today is no different. Every day, news media coverage of our crisis grows, and our message is loud: Philadelphia is here, we are hurting, and we cannot be silenced.

Our stories are difficult to share, but we must continue to exercise our democratic right to be heard. Across the nation, schools are more segregated than ever, and too many are unsafe and under-resourced. I want to see these dark days end.

I see the way Philadelphians mobilize, the way we defend our neighborhood schools with remarkable persistence. The way we never give up hope, no matter how hard the fight may get. Our power will only grow if we take the time to celebrate our small victories and use them to propel us forward to make real, tangible change for our schools. I urge every concerned Philadelphian – whether you are a parent, a student, a teacher, an advocate, or a product of Philly schools like me – to take a moment and reflect on the influence this city has.

Come November, I am optimistic that Philadelphians will use their voices and their votes to advance the fight for high-quality education. I’ve seen Brotherly Love up close, and it is powerful.

Judy Robbins is a former Philadelphia School District student. She is entering her junior year at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where she is studying public policy and education. Judy is also a former intern at PCCY.
Philadelphia Public School Notebook – August 19, 2014 – Read article online