West Charlotte High and the Price of Desegregation

This Black History Month, I sat in a room filled with living history.

At the Sarah Stevenson Tuesday Forum, five former students and educators from West Charlotte High School gathered to reflect on what the school once represented — and what was lost in the name of desegregation.

They spoke not only about integration, but about value.

About what Black educational spaces built when they were allowed to thrive. And about the emotional, cultural, and academic cost that came when those spaces were disrupted.

Why it matters: West Charlotte High wasn’t just a school. It was a pipeline for Black excellence in Charlotte — and a frontline in the city’s battle over desegregation.

Girls in Shorthand 1 class in 1966. Courtesy of Charlotte Mecklenburg Library and Digital NC. Acquired from Museum of the New South.

The Backstory

• Founded in 1938, West Charlotte was one of the first public high schools for Black students in Charlotte.

• It quickly became known as a hub for children of educated and professional Black families — doctors, teachers, pastors, business owners.

• Alumni describe it as academically rigorous, culturally affirming, and deeply rooted in community pride.

Mary Johnson, an alumna, said West Charlotte began as a school for the children of Black professionals — a space where excellence wasn’t accidental, it was expected.

The Integration Flashpoint

By 1970, Charlotte became a national testing ground for desegregation after the landmark Supreme Court decision in Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg Board of Education.

• 1970 marked the first year of full desegregation through busing.

• Students were transferred across the city — including from West Charlotte to schools like Independence High School.

• Emotions ran high. White families protested. Black students walked out when civil rights attorney Julius Chambers addressed integration efforts.

David Belton remembers the first day of desegregated school. There was a wreck on Central Avenue that morning. He thought it was an omen.

A racially integrated group of students at WCHS in 1972. Courtesy of Bloomberg, Harold L. Valentine, and AP. Acquired from Museum of the South.

Tension in the Halls

Panelists recall what integration actually looked like on the ground:

• Black students entering through back doors in the early morning darkness.

• White parents greeted warmly at the front entrance.

• A 1972 riot in which white students reportedly arrived with chains wrapped around their arms, knocking out windows.

• A white girl’s hair set on fire amid escalating tensions.

Wilma Leake, then a teacher, says she was reprimanded for speaking up in staff meetings. She described Black students as dignified and prepared — “They looked like students. They didn’t come looking like Jezebels.” I audibly gasped at the descriptor, but understood what the elder was communicating.

Her husband pastored Little Rock AME Zion Church — another pillar of the Black community supporting families through turmoil.

Friendships were strained by forced busing. Communities fractured. Many white families fled.

Excellence Under Pressure

Despite unrest, alumni insist on this: West Charlotte’s academic rigor stood out.

Belton described Independence as physically impressive but “cold” — lacking the academic intensity West Charlotte fostered.

Dr. Donna Benson:

• Grew up in Charlotte.

• Transitioned from West Charlotte to Independence.

• Earned a Ph.D. from Duke University.

• Built a long academic career.

She described herself as moving “from campus to campus putting out fires” — navigating racial tensions while pursuing scholarship.

For many, West Charlotte built the foundation.

The Deeper Context

Reuben Flax, who grew up in Brooklyn before relocating, said segregation in Mecklenburg County felt deeply Confederate — rigid and entrenched. He lost interest in school amid the tension and later joined the force.

The pushback against integration wasn’t just about proximity. It was about power.

West Charlotte represented:

• Black institutional strength.

• Cultural pride.

• Intellectual development outside white validation.

Integration threatened both white control — and Black autonomy.

The Big Picture

Charlotte is often praised as “the city that made desegregation work.” But alumni of West Charlotte tell a more layered story:

• It worked on paper.

• It came at emotional cost.

• It dismantled a thriving Black academic ecosystem.

And yet — from that ecosystem came scholars, pastors, civic leaders, and professionals who shaped the city anyway.

The Legacy — And the Question Now

Because here’s the tension: The history of West Charlotte High School is inspirational.

But when many Charlotte residents hear “West Charlotte” today, the reaction isn’t always pride.

Some hear decline.

Some hear reputation.

Some forget what it once was.

That contrast raises a harder question:

How do we return to Black excellence, presentation, and academic rigor in the very spaces that once defined it?