SYLVIA HAD ON HER BLACK SHOES. They were shiny-new. Her hair
was perfectly parted in two long trenzas. It was her first day at the Westminster
school. The halls were crowded with students. She was looking for her locker
when a young white boy pointed at her and yelled, “Go back to the Mexican
school! You don’t belong here!”
2
For the rest of the day, Sylvia did not speak or introduce herself in her classes.
She kept her head down when walking in the halls. When she got home that
afternoon, she told her mom, Felícitas, what had happened. “I don’t want to go
to that school anymore. The kids are mean.”
“Sylvia,” said her mother. “¿No sabes que por eso luchamos?” “Don’t you know
that is why we fought?”
3
4
Three years earlier, in the summer of 1944, Sylvia and her brothers, Jerome
and Gonzalo Jr., and their parents had moved from the crowded city of Santa
Ana, California, to a farm in nearby Westminster. Her father, Gonzalo Mendez,
had labored for years as a field-worker, picking grapes and oranges. Now he was
leasing a farm. He was going to be the boss. On their new farm they were going
to grow asparagus, chilies, and tomatoes.
5
6
As the summer came to an end and the first day of school neared, Aunt
Soledad drove Sylvia and her brothers and their cousins, Alice and Virginia, to
the local public school on 17th Street so they could enroll. Sylvia was going to
enter third grade. Gonzalo was going to enter second, and Jerome first.
What a handsome building, thought Sylvia as they pulled into the parking lot.
Tall trees lined the street in front of the school. There was a playground with
monkey bars and a red swing. When they walked into the school, they noticed
that the hallways were spacious and clean.
7
“I’m here to enroll the children in school,” said Aunt Soledad when they
arrived at the principal’s office.
The secretary gave Aunt Soledad two enrollment forms, one for Alice and
one for Virginia. But she did not give her enrollment forms for Sylvia and her
brothers.
“They cannot attend this school,” said the secretary. “They must go to the
Mexican school.”
8
Why do I have to go to the Mexican school? Sylvia wondered. She was not
Mexican—she was American. She spoke perfect English. Her father was from
Mexico, but he had become a U.S. citizen. Her mother was from Puerto Rico,
which was a U.S. territory.
Aunt Soledad was upset. “But we all live in this part of town!”
Sylvia looked at her cousins. They had light skin and long auburn hair, and
their last name was Vidaurri—their father was Mexican, but of French descent.
Then she looked at her brothers, and at her own hands and bare arms. She
wondered, Is it because we have brown skin and thick black hair and our last name
is Mendez?
10
“Rules are rules,” said the secretary. “The Mendez children have to go to
the Mexican school.”
“I will not be enrolling any of them, then,” said Aunt Soledad, and she
stormed out of the office, taking Sylvia and the other children with her.
11
When they arrived home, Aunt Soledad told Sylvia’s father what had
happened. Mr. Mendez told her not to worry—it had to be a mistake. He would
take care of it. He was a businessman, and he was used to dealing with people.
The next day, Mr. Mendez met with Mr. Harris, the superintendent of the
Westminster school. Mr. Mendez explained that his family had just moved to a
nearby farm. “The public school on 17th Street is the closest school to our house,
and my children should attend it.”
“Your children have to go to the Mexican school,” said Mr. Harris.
12
“But why?” asked Mr. Mendez.
He was not given an answer other than, “That is how it is done.”
In the following days, Mr. Mendez met with Mr. Atkinson, the county
superintendent—Mr. Harris’s superior—and then with the school board, which
oversaw all of the schools in Orange County. But they all said the same thing:
“Your children have to go to the Mexican school.”
“But why?” Mr. Mendez kept asking.
No one would give him a satisfactory answer.
13
14
That fall, Sylvia and her brothers had to attend Hoover Elementary, better
known as “the Mexican school,” on Olive Street in the city of Westminster.
The building was a clapboard shack, and the halls were not spacious or clean.
A cow pasture surrounded the school. The students had to eat their lunch
outside, and flies would land on their food. There was an electric wire that
surrounded the pasture to keep the cows in. If you touched it, you received a
shock! The school did not have a playground—not even a swing.
15
The Mendez family did not give up. Time and time again, Sylvia heard her
father talk with coworkers, friends, and other parents. “It’s not fair that our
kids have to go to an inferior school,” he said. “It’s not only the building that’s a
problem—the teachers at the school don’t care about our children’s education.
They expect them to drop out by the eighth grade. How will our children
succeed and become doctors, lawyers, or teachers?”
16
Mr. Mendez created a group called the Parents’ Association of Mexican-
American Children. He tried to collect signatures for a petition to integrate
schools so that all children, regardless of their skin color or background, could
have the same opportunities. But every time he asked someone to sign the
petition, he would get the same answer. “No queremos problemas.” “We don’t
want any problems.” Many of the parents worked on farms owned by white
families and feared they would lose their jobs if they supported the petition.
17
One day, a truck driver overheard Mr. Mendez trying to convince a worker to
sign his petition. “You know,” said the truck driver, “you could file a lawsuit.”
The truck driver told Mr. Mendez about a lawyer named David Marcus, who
had filed a lawsuit on behalf of people in San Bernardino and had helped them
integrate the public pools there. At that time, not only were schools segregated
but also other public places as well, such as pools, parks, and movie theaters.
Some businesses even had signs that read, NO DOGS OR MEXICANS ALLOWED.
Mr. Mendez decided right then and there to hire Mr. Marcus, even if it meant
having to spend all of his savings to do so.
18
19
Over the next few months, Mr. Mendez and Mr. Marcus traveled all over
Orange County looking for people who had experienced similar problems.
Sylvia watched her father leave early in the morning. Sometimes she saw him
come home in the evening, but often she only heard his footsteps
when he got in
late at night.
20
While he was away, Sylvia’s mother had to take care of the farm. Mrs. Mendez
would get Sylvia and her brothers ready for school, and then she would go out
to the fields. She started the irrigation system, drove the tractor, oversaw the
workers, and solved any problems that arose.
21
With the help of Mr. Marcus, Mr. Mendez found and talked with other
families who were dealing with segregation. One of them was the Estrada family.
Mr. Estrada had fought in World War II. He had risked his life next to Americans
of all races and backgrounds. But when he returned to America from the war,
he found out that his children were not allowed to attend school with white
children. “Es una injusticia,” said Mr. Mendez. “It’s an injustice.”
22
The Estrada family joined the Mendez case, and so did three more families.
The families were from the different school districts in Orange County:
Westminster (where Sylvia lived), Garden Grove, El Modena, and Santa Ana.
Mr. Marcus wanted to show that the segregation of students affected not only
Sylvia and her brothers but more than five thousand children in the public school
system all over Orange County.
On March 2, 1945, Mr. Marcus went to the courthouse and filed the lawsuit.
23
The trial was held at a courthouse in Los Angeles. Sylvia and her family dressed
in their best clothes and sat in the courtroom to listen. The hearing lasted five
days. Each day, Mr. Marcus called to the stand parents from the different districts
in Orange County, and the superintendents from each district too.
24
On the first day, Mr. Kent, the superintendent of the Garden Grove district,
was questioned. He said that he sent children to the Mexican school to help
them improve their English.
That is a lie! thought Sylvia. Her English was as good as the English of any of
the children at the Westminster school.
“Do you give the children any tests?” asked Mr. Marcus.
Mr. Kent claimed he did. “We do so by talking to them.”
That is another lie! Sylvia wanted to yell. No one had questioned her. They
rejected her from the Westminster school without asking her a thing.
25
“For what other reasons do you send children to the Mexican school?” asked
Mr. Marcus.
Sylvia and her family braced themselves to hear what Mr. Kent would say next.
“For their social behavior. They need to learn cleanliness of mind, manner,
and dress. They are not learning that at home. They have problems with lice,
impetigo, and tuberculosis. They have generally dirty hands, face, neck, and
ears.”
The Mendez family and others in the room stared at Mr. Kent in disbelief.
What he was saying was not true! It was degrading.
“How many of the two hundred ninety-two children at the Mexican school are
inferior to whites in personal hygiene?” asked Mr. Marcus.
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“At least seventy-five percent.”
“And in their scholastic ability?”
“Seventy-five percent.”
“In what other respects are they inferior?”
“In their economic outlook, in their clothing, and in their ability to take part in
the activities of the school.”
“Do you believe that white students are superior to Mexicans in the respects
that you have mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“And is that one of the reasons they are being segregated?”
“Yes.”
Time and again, Mr. Mendez had asked, “Why can’t my children attend the
Westminster school?” Now he had his answer.
27
On the second day, Mr. Marcus called to the stand a fourteen-year-old
student from the Mexican school in El Modena. Her name was Carol Torres.
She spoke perfect English. It was clear that she had not been sent to the
Mexican school because she had problems speaking the language,
as the defense lawyers claimed.
Mr. and Mrs. Mendez were questioned on the third and fourth day, and so was Mr. Harris, the superintendent of the Westminster school. Sylvia was not called to the stand, but she was ready to testify if they asked her to. She tried
28
looking her best every morning, and she practiced what she would answer.
On the fifth and final day of the hearing, Mr. Marcus called to the stand
two education specialists to explain why it was bad to segregate children into
different schools. “Segregation tends to give an aura of inferiority. In order to
have the people of the United States understand one another it is necessary for
them to live together, and the public school is the one mechanism where all the
children of all the people go,” said one of them.
The judge nodded his head. He seemed to agree with this.
29
Judge Paul McCormick took almost a year to give his decision . . . but when
he did, he ruled in favor of the Mendez family! In his ruling, he said that “public
education must be open to all children by unified school association regardless
of lineage.” This meant that everyone must be allowed to attend school, no
matter what his or her race or background.
30
The Mendez victory made newspaper headlines. Sylvia’s family was ecstatic.
But they did not have much time to celebrate because the school board
appealed the case—that is, it asked for another trial. Sylvia and her family had to
go to the state court in San Francisco to argue the case again.
In the new trial, the Mendez family received support from the League of
United Latin American Citizens, the National Association for the Advancement
of Colored People, the Japanese American Citizens League, the American Jewish
Congress, and other organizations. These groups sent letters with information
relevant to the case and asked the judge to rule in favor of the Mendez family.
Sylvia was amazed that people of different backgrounds and from different
parts of the country who had never met her family were getting involved in the
32
case and trying to help them. But her mother said, “Cuando la causa es justa,
los demás te siguen.”“When you fight for justice, others will follow.”
On April 15, 1947, the judges in the Court of Appeals in San Francisco ruled in
favor of the Mendez family again.
That June, Governor Earl Warren signed the law that said that all children in
California were allowed to go to school together, regardless of race, ethnicity,
or language.
33
“So, remember,” said Sylvia’s mother, “we fought to make sure you could
attend a good school and have equal opportunities.”
Sylvia thought long and hard about what her mother said. The next day, she
returned to the Westminster school. This time she did not listen to any whispers.
She ignored the children who pointed at her and called her names. Instead, she
held her head high. Her parents had fought not only for her and her brothers but
for all their classmates.
Looking around, she saw that other children were smiling at her. By the end of
the day, she had made a friend. And by the end of the school year, she had mad
e
many friends of different backgrounds. She knew that her family had fought for
that.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
In the 1940s, segregation based on race or national origin was common throughout the United States. The Mendez v. Westminster School District case paved the way for the desegregation of schools in America. After the Mendez lawsuit, similar suits were filed and won in Texas and Arizona. In 1954, seven years after the Mendez victory, the landmark case Brown v. Board of Education desegregated schools in the entire country.
Two people who played key roles in the Brown case had also been involved in the Mendez case: Thurgood Marshall and Earl Warren. As a member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, Marshall had sent friend-of-the-court briefs to the judge in the Mendez case. In these letters he argued against segregation. He later used several of the same arguments when he became the lawyer in the Brown case. Earl Warren was the governor who signed into law the desegregation of schools in California after the Mendez victory. He later became the chief justice of the U. S. Supreme Court. He presided over the Brown case and ruled in Brown’s favor.
Separate Is Never Equal Page 1
