Nikole Hannah-Jones’s Daughter Was Right

Last week, Nikole Hannah-Jones, one of the most prominent racial grievance mongers of the past decade, set the internet ablaze with a bombshell essay detailing the fallout of her decision to send her daughter to underperforming inner-city schools. In the lengthy missive, Hannah-Jones ponders whether she “betrayed” her daughter by forcing her to attend them, ultimately sacrificing the education of her only child in the service of a murky and unquantifiable racial justice framework.

Hannah-Jones’s heartfelt and candid confessions, such as the discovery of her daughter’s inability to produce basic writing or even solve fractions, ignited a flurry of discourse among the commentariat. Some praised Hannah-Jones for being so transparent about the failures of her parenting decisions. Others lauded the writer for actually living by the “diversity” and “equity” principles she publicly champions. However, others lambasted her for ignoring her daughter’s repeated pleas to leave the school, which she described as a chaotic madhouse replete with fighting students and teachers who did not grade homework.

Hannah-Jones’s decision is not unique. Black families across the United States are often confronted with similar choices about their children’s education: Do we send our child to the “best” school, or to a “diverse” one? The former would likely provide a superior education, though the child might feel isolated among their peers. The latter would place the student in an environment with less social friction, but typically at the expense of educational rigour, and amid a dysfunctional culture.

There are no perfect choices here. However, Hannah-Jones certainly had more options at her disposal than the low-income black parents at her daughter’s elementary school. Further, black families with far less money and social capital than Hannah-Jones have managed to figure out how to ensure their children receive a solid education.

Although I was raised on the South Side of Chicago, a perilous crucible notorious for gun violence and fatherless children, my mother prioritised my education above all else. My mother, keenly aware of the lacklustre quality of local schools, read to me from birth to ensure my literacy. Though she was no maths whiz, she bought cheap arithmetic workbooks from the local bookstore and set me dozens of problems to complete each day. When I struggled with a concept, my mother forced me to redo the problems until I demonstrated comprehension and mastery.

Though I found this work tedious, it paid dividends during my academic career. My scores on state-mandated standardised tests were often several years ahead of grade level, and I quickly became the shining star of my inner-city school, held up as a role model for the other students.

Given my own experience of navigating the treacherous terrain of the inner-city school system, it is easy to see why I find myself confused by, and largely unsympathetic towards, Hannah-Jones. According to reporting by the New York Post, Hannah-Jones commanded a staggering $33,350 for a single one-hour speech to the Fairfax County Public Library. She also raked in an eye-popping $55,000 to lead a seminar at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. There is no doubt that Hannah-Jones could have afforded to send her daughter to the very best schools in New York City.

Brimming with resentment, and keenly aware of the absurdity of her situation, her daughter, Najya, repudiated the decision to relegate her to a terrible school in the name of racial justice. Najya, whom Hannah-Jones depicts as precociously bright and desperate to learn, rejected her mother’s ideology outright, wishing instead that her mother had prioritised her education and wellbeing over her heartfelt commitment to pro-black racialism. It is hard to blame Najya. Parents have an obligation to place the needs of their children first, not those of their broader racial “community”.

The vast majority of black families do not possess the financial or social capital that Hannah-Jones could have used to provide her daughter with the best possible life outcomes. I reckon that most of the families at her daughter’s middle school would have departed for greener pastures immediately if they had had a fraction of Hannah-Jones’s options. Even setting aside the obvious private-school option at her disposal, Hannah-Jones learned in fourth grade that her daughter was behind in maths—almost every problem in Najya’s schoolwork was wrong, though her teacher had ticked them all—yet she kept her in the school and arranged a tutor at home instead. That is a dereliction of her duties as a parent.

That said, what I find even more revealing is Hannah-Jones’s misunderstanding of the lower-class black people she believes she knows so well. Amid the avalanche of think pieces that followed her essay, Hannah-Jones hopped on the Contraband Camp podcast to share her frustration and surprise that black parents agreed with the sharp criticisms levelled at her.