40 years ago, Germantown-King pairing marred by neighborhood rivalries
by Benjamin Herold, video by Kimberly Paynter
Martin Luther King High opened in 1972 as part of an unusual experiment. To make sure the new school in West Oak Lane enrolled a mix of poor and middle-class students, the Philadelphia School District decided that every student from the city's Northwest would attend King for 9th and 10th grades, then move on to nearby Germantown High for 11th and 12th grades.
It was called the "paired school" model.
"I think the experiment was to try to bring us together to bridge the gap of the cliques, the gangs that were out there," said Elisha Morris, a student in King's inaugural 9th-grade class.
"It seemed to have worked — for a minute."
Today, District officials are pursuing a massive school-closings plan that has some parallels with their predecessors' experiment of 40 years ago.
Germantown is one of 37 city schools targeted to be closed. If the School Reform Commission approves the plan, hundreds of students from across the Northwest would be thrust together inside King.
Germantown's 99-year-old facility is now two-thirds empty, but many students, parents, and community leaders are worried that merging the two schools will spark violence between youth from rival neighborhoods.
Morris, now 55, shares those concerns.
"I think it's going to be ugly," he said.
A brand-new school
King opened its doors on Feb. 8, 1972.
A photo in the old Philadelphia Bulletin shows about a dozen teens lined up in the snow outside the building. The young man closest to the camera has a notebook under his arm and a pencil tucked between his ear and his Afro. His friends are smiling.
"We were happy as all get out," remembers Morris. "We're like, 'Wow, we got a brand-new school to go into.'"
As a middle schooler, Morris served as a student representative on a committee that planned the "paired school" experiment. But he quickly turned against the idea.
"As soon as you started feeling at home, they started saying you're going to Germantown for 11th and 12th grade," he remembered.
Morris started organizing his classmates to fight the District's plan.
They took their protests all the way to the school board.
Al Banks was one of the students who caught the "four years, not two" fever.
"We were going to take over," said Banks.
The King students wanted their own mascot and school colors. They wanted a single school's name on their diploma. They wanted to stay with their teachers.
Being uprooted after 10th grade, Banks said, "just didn't feel right."
District officials held firm, but the idea of sending every kid in Northwest Philly to both King and Germantown was losing support.
"The adults still wanted the experiment," Morris said. "The students were like, 'Heck, no. Enough of this crap.'"
Before long, the "bring kids together across neighborhood lines" part of the District's plan fell apart, too.
Deborah Cunningham Alexander knows as well as anyone about Northwest Philly's longstanding neighborhood rivalries.
"I was from Dogtown. My boyfriend was from Haines Street. And we were right there on the cusp of Somerville," said Cunningham Alexander, ticking off the names of three of the biggest — and most notorious — neighborhoods in the area.
The fourth is known as the Brickyard.
"Brickyard, you just didn't want to be in," she said. "They were crazy."
Most kids just tried to avoid trouble.