A School Bombing, A Steady Leader, And A Message Of Hope

In times of uncertainty, we know leadership matters more than ever. I see this from leaders firsthand every day – leadership in improving health outcomes, in driving better policy, in rising to the moment to solve tough challenges – from conservation to economic mobility. Recently, I have been reflecting on the power and importance of great leadership in education, and marking the anniversary of a painful event in Nashville where leadership mattered.

This Saturday, September 10^th, 2022 marks the 65^th anniversary of the tragic bombing of the Hattie Cotton School, which occurred just after midnight following the very first day of mandated integration at six elementary schools in Nashville in 1957. This major cultural advance was spurred by the landmark Supreme Court decision in 1954, Brown v. Board of Education.

On that first day of school, Hattie Cotton had just one six-year-old black girl enrolled, Patricia Watson. My aunt Margaret Cate, who we lovingly called Aunt Bonnie, was the principal at Hattie Cotton and she had led the school since the day it opened seven years prior in 1950. Never married, her life was centered entirely around educating children, teaching with high values and high expectations, always gently and humbly — and later leading as principal in the style of servant leader. She was gentle but strong. Her convictions were ahead of the times.

From old letters, we know a close friend sensed an air of worry and concern when visiting with Aunt Bonnie the day before the opening of school because of planned, organized, community-wide protests. Little did she know that soon her beloved, tiny school would be making national headlines, and she would be called upon to unify and courageously lead the Hattie Cotton community after a vicious, violent attack.

First Day of School

No black children had pre-registered at Hattie Cotton School, so that morning on the first day, the school children were not met by pro-segregationist protesters like at some of Nashville’s other schools. Patricia Watson and her mother quietly slipped in and enrolled in the first grade class.

As news spread of her arrival that morning, several carloads of protesters made their way to the school with plans to demonstrate and intimidate at noontime dismissal. Cars with segregationist propaganda and symbols circled the school, while more than twenty mothers individually trickled in to remove their children – either fearing violence or in protest, or both.

As the school day came to a close and most of the children had gone home, Principal Cate saw that no one had come to collect Patricia Watson. She later told the police, “I decided to take the child home in my own car. As I paused before backing into the street, one of the men standing beside the car verbally protested my transporting a Negro child.” Aunt Bonnie discovered Patricia’s mother had been too frightened to return to the school, and had sent a taxi to pick the child up, which drove away after seeing the angry men at the entrance. Aunt Bonnie drove Patricia home safely. Relative quiet so far.

A Bombing Spurred by Hate

Then a devastating explosion. Just past midnight on September 10^th, 1957, an estimated 100 sticks of dynamite tore through the east wing of the school in protest of the presence of this one black child. Due to the late hour, the building was empty and there were no injuries or deaths – but scores of parents across the city of Nashville kept their kids home from school, suddenly fearing for their lives. Hate and racism were threatening our children’s desire and right to learn.

My Aunt Bonnie, Principal Margaret Cate, seamlessly responded, instantly assuming roles of responder, consoler, commander, counselor, organizer, and communicator. The children remained her focus. She was the steady, calming, reassuring hand in the midst of the chaos. She was there at the school nonstop, answering phones among the rubble, arriving just hours after the massive midnight blast. The bombing was estimated to have inflicted as much as $150,000 in damages (approximately $1.6 million in today’s dollars).

LIFE Magazine, chronicling the turmoil and violence experienced by several southern cities as their schools integrated, published a large, poignant photo of Principal Cate sitting in the bombed-out school library, thumbing through mangled books. The photo graphically reflects the Aunt Bonnie we knew: she embodied courage, fortitude, and powerful leadership in the face of great adversity.

The Power of Optimism

“They tell us the damage was not too great in the nine classrooms in the west wing. We are doing nicely, considering what we have left,” Aunt Bonnie, always coupling positivity and the goodness of life with reality, recounted to The Tennessean that fateful day. The newspaper described her voice as bright, cheerful and full of optimism as she explained, “We hope we shall be holding classes here by the end of the week.” And indeed, a week later on September 18^th, all but a handful of the 393 Hattie Cotton students were back in class, making the best of what they had.

Despite the danger and an environment of fear created by pro-segregationist protestors that had descended on Nashville, all of Hattie Cotton’s thirteen teachers “had reported on schedule – every one of them,” reported The Tennessean. Following the steadfast example set by Principal Cate, they would not let their students down.

It took a herculean effort, and the broad support of the Nashville community, but the Hattie Cotton School, its students and staff, showed their resilience, stood up to hate, and again walked through the doors just days after the terrifying attack that damaged not only the school, but blew out the windows of nearby homes.

Principal Cate had come to the school every day to physically participate in cleanup and oversee construction. She believed demonstrating daily progress and return to normalcy as soon as possible was vital for the children and for the community (and by now the whole country) to see. But young Patricia Watson never returned to Hattie Cotton. Her mother moved her to a predominantly black school, understandably fearing for her safety.

The black parents and sixteen children who crossed picket lines, and suffered verbal taunts and intimidation tactics that threatened their lives, to achieve equal opportunity for education demonstrated tremendous courage and leadership – Patricia and her family included.

And the Hattie Cotton students demonstrated their love and caring for the principal, who had cared over the years so deeply for them. A remarkable collection of 30 letters of encouragement written by fifth and sixth graders to their principal Margaret Cate captured their love for her, their school, and their resilience in struggling to understand what had occurred.

The letters, preserved by the Nashville Public Library, include one from sixth-grader Delores Wilson, who praised Aunt Bonnie’s efforts in reopening the school: “We thank you for what you have done for fixing up our school. … I just can’t tell you how much we thank you. I could say this a thousand times we thank you so much.”

Student Jane McIntyre expressed how impressed she was by Cate’s leadership, reflecting, “I must say that I don’t think I would have held up over all this near as well as you have. (In fact I didn’t)!”

Another, Tana Frensley, thanked Principal Cate for always staying after school each day to get her work done so that during the school day she could spend time in each class, encouraging the students: “I don’t think I could thank you enough for all the times you’ve [come] around to our room and listen to the poems, because it seems like whenever you do I want to really learn the poems so you can say you’re proud of all the room.” Aunt Bonnie loved sharing poetry as a tool of understanding.

And student Pat Shelton wrote, “Miss Cate, this is hard to understand … but why would any[one] do a thing like that because of one little child.”

Principal Cate echoed this sentiment, sharing with The Tennessean, “It is a little bit difficult for me to orient myself to the sort of feeling we have seen in the past several days. But I have a tremendous lot of confidence in my school community.”

While the bombing was never solved, a national pro-segregationist organizer, John Kasper, was subsequently jailed for inciting riots in Nashville when the bombing occurred. The bombing, thankfully, became a catalyzing event for Nashville. From that day forward the city galvanized around unity and a peaceful transition to integration, unlike the course in so many other southern cities.

And the Hattie Cotton School still exists in Nashville, now as the Hattie Cotton STEM Magnet Elementary School, and the majority of its student body are students of color.

Lessons for Today’s Crises

Today we see education leaders responding to another momentous challenge: recovering from the shock of the pandemic on learning. Students have been impacted in so many ways – from academic performance to their mental health and wellbeing.

Results on the Nation’s Report Card, released just last week, show the damage that has been done. According to the Washington Post, “Test scores in elementary school math and reading plummeted to levels unseen for decades, according to the first nationally representative report comparing student achievement from just before the pandemic to performance two years later.”

For many students, the pandemic exacerbated long-standing gaps in outcomes and in opportunities. A recent documentary from the Nashville Public Education Foundation highlights the lingering policies and practices that still prevent students from accessing a great public education. John Friedman, co-director of Opportunity Insights and chairman of the economics department at Brown University, noted, “Less than one in 13 children born into poverty in the United States will go on to hold a high-income job in adulthood; the odds are far longer for Black men born into poverty, at one in 40.”

In 2021, Hattie Cotton’s students were more than two thirds African American and nearly 60 percent from economically disadvantaged families – they are the students who were most impacted by the pandemic and a reminder of how much more work Nashville has to do even sixty-five years after the bombing.

Just as we came together as a community to support Hattie Cotton in 1957, we can do more as a community in the wake of the pandemic to ensure all students have equal opportunity to thrive. And we will need the Aunt Bonnies and the Principal Cates of today. School leadership will matter in helping us recover.

The Wallace Foundation, an expert on educational leadership, says that “School leadership is second only to teaching among school-related factors in its impact on student learning, according to research. Moreover, principals strongly shape the conditions for high-quality teaching and are the prime factor in determining whether teachers stay in high-needs schools. High-quality principals, therefore, are vital to the effectiveness of our nation’s public schools, especially those serving the children with the fewest advantages in life.”

My aunt Principal Margaret Cate displayed determination, courage, and optimism in the face of major upheaval, creating a powerful culture where students felt secure, felt loved and felt prepared to learn against the odds. Her work remains unfinished.

Even though our educational challenges seem so monumental today, we can look back at this moment in history and see progress is possible — and, yes, maybe even probable with the right leadership — even in the darkest of hours. Like Principal Cate, we have a reason to be optimistic for our future.

Note from the author: I highlight the inspiration from one personal story here. I also want to pay tribute to the larger story of the sixteen six-year-old black children and their parents, who in 1957 led with courage and determination and grace to open the doors to the fundamental right of education opportunities for ALL at that time, and forever after.