TROPZIE MCCLUNEY

Transcript
TRANSCRIPT – TROPZIE McCLUNEY
[Compiled October 14th, 2010]
Interviewee: TROPZIE McCLUNEY
Interviewer: Dwana Waugh
Interview Date: August 9th, 2010
Location: Shelby, North Carolina
Length: Approximately 65 minutes
DWANA WAUGH: This is Dwana Waugh. Today is August 9th, 2010, and we are at Township Number Three School, and I am interviewing Mrs. Tropzie McCluney. Could you state when you were born and where you were born?
TROPZIE McCLUNEY: I was born in York County, South Carolina on November the 29th, 1948.
DW: Okay. Thank you. I guess, just to get started, we could talk a little bit about your early childhood and what some of your earliest memories were.
TM: I was born in Rock Hill, South Carolina. My early memories until I was seven years old, during that time I attended West End Elementary School for first grade. I do remember playing and having lots of fun. I lived on Bynum Avenue in Rock Hill, South Carolina, so our activities were confined to children right there close to us, just playing different games. We would shoot marbles, ride bicycles, skate, tag, climb trees, and we would make our own swings with a rubber tire and swing from the tree. Those were memorable moments of my childhood. Church was definitely a big part of what we did, so any church activities, we were always there. My father was a minister, and if he had a church, then we would travel and still be involved in those activities. Otherwise, we went to our home church, which was Boyd Hill Baptist Church, and did activities there.
DW: Okay. So your father went from church to church, at least early on…
TM: …Yes…
DW: …when you were younger? And your grandfather was also a minister of Boyd Hill?
TM: No, he was a pastor of another church in South Carolina, but later pastored for a long time in Charlotte, a church in Charlotte.
DW: Okay. So your family moved to Cleveland County, or to Shelby, when you were going into the second grade?
TM: Yes.
DW: How did you feel about that move from Rock Hill to here? I guess having played tag and games with your friends and made relationships--?
TM: It was somewhat different, but we were used to moving and going wherever my father was. The difference, I think, for having to move this time, he would change churches but we never had to move because they were all in South Carolina. So now we were getting ready to make a transition to another state, so it was a little bit anxious, but excited somewhat, to be going to a new school. I was just seven, so it was kind of easy for me to make friends.
DW: When you came here to Cleveland County, what school did you attend?
TM: I went to Cleveland High School.
DW: What was that like?
TM: Very different. It was much, much bigger. It was still segregated at that time, but it was bigger, and it was a 1-12 school, and West End was smaller. I think it was 1-6, so it just seemed huge to me, the school building, and then all the people that were inside.
DW: Did you have any teachers that stood out in your mind as being particularly good, or not good? [Laughter]
TM: I had an excellent second grade teacher and I think that helped a lot in the transition to the county, and her name was Mrs. Small. I don’t remember her first name, but I do remember that she was excellent. She was very kind and very caring. I remember her. I also had a Mrs. Lee, was my teacher during that time because I stayed at Cleveland High School for second grade and third grade, and then moved to Washington Elementary School. It was in Cleveland County, but it was out--it wasn’t in the city--it was a county school.
DW: Okay. If I could go back just a little bit to the Cleveland School experience. What made Mrs. Small and Mrs. Lee so great as teachers?
TM: I think they showed a lot of caring, a lot of love. On my first day, I can still see myself walking in that classroom and how warm she was to me and made me feel very comfortable. She acknowledged any successes that I had in the way of participation. She made that known, so I began to feel very comfortable with her and understand that she cared about kids, and Mrs. Lee had that same type of demeanor. They were very, very strict; they both were very strict and very structured in that they had a certain way you had to do things, and you had to do it at a certain time, but it also helped us as we grew into adult life to know that we needed to meet timelines and do things on time and do it right.
DW: What was it like being in a school--you had mentioned that it was really
big--but to have, you being six or seven years old and then having seventeen, eighteen-year-olds in the same school?
TM: We didn’t see a lot of them. Our schedules were very different. We knew they were there and we would just see them maybe going in during the morning and coming out in the afternoon, but we had very little interaction. It was just the fact that I knew they were there and I knew it was a big place. Whenever we would dismiss or have an opening, then there were a lot of us. That was the only city school, so all the kids in Shelby in the city limits of Shelby went to Cleveland High School.
DW: I was talking with someone this weekend, a couple of people, and they were talking about in elementary school, these operettas, and how they were…
TM: …Um-hmm, yeah…
DW: …[laughter]. Did you ever participate in them?
TM: We did. We did, and then Mayday, you know, the pole. When I went to Washington School, that was a big thing where you wrapped the pole on May Day, but the operettas, yeah, that was big, like drama for Shelby High School now. It was like the drama team, or club, but we would each have our own part, and it was like a production.
DW: So it wasn’t really singing so much as acting?
TM: It was some speaking--yeah, both, some of both.
DW: Yeah. Wow. [Laughter] Did you attend the games when you were at Cleveland? And even after you left Cleveland to go to Washington Elementary, did you come back and go to any of the sport games or activities?
TM: I don’t remember sport games during that time. I know they had them, probably for the high school students, but I was still seven, so they didn’t have sports for the primary grades, I would say. So, any sports we did, we did on our own, outside our houses in the afternoon, the community, you know, maybe if there was something, but I didn’t get to leave home too far from home. If it was monitored, like scouts, 4-H, maybe, but as far as attending sports activities, no.
DW: Were you a Girl Scout?
TM: I was a Girl Scout.
DW: Yeah. How long did you participate?
TM: I was a Brownie, and then a Girl Scout. I did not do Seniors, so I guess seven to twelve or thirteen, maybe five or six years.
DW: Okay. You said your father was pastoring a church at Mr. Calvary?
TM: Yes.
DW: How involved were you with the activities there?
TM: Very involved with the church activities. Anything that happened within my age range, we were involved in it. We had GAs, choir, Sunday school, any activity. Then during the summers we had a state camp, so I would always go to camp. At that time, they were having camp at Shaw University, so we would go down, and that was big because we would get to stay at the college campus, so that was really a big activity. During the summer, also, they would have conventions, so I was involved in that. So anything that was a part of the church, we were very active.
DW: Okay. Well, going back, just again, to when you were moved to Washington Elementary, did your family move so that you then were zoned for Washington School?
TM: Yes, we moved. Actually, my parents built a home, now where my mother lives in the Light Oak community in Cleveland County, so I was re-zoned to go to Washington. I was more anxious than I was at seven, I think because that’s such--you know, you begin to move into the more impressionable years, as far as middle school and things like that. I was in the fourth grade and my teacher was Mrs. Curry, an excellent teacher again. She was very, very good. She wasn’t quite as touchy-feely as Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Small, but she was a good teacher.
DW: Were the things that you learned, the curriculum, different from Cleveland School?
TM: No, I transitioned well academically, didn’t have any trouble, actually, was right on target and somewhat above a lot of the students that were in the class.
DW: How was it socially?
TM: It was fine. I think they had already established by the fourth grade, you know, you already have your friends, but I made some friends--not many at first, but just slowly. I’m not a person to--I try to put myself out there and be friendly, but I’m not saying that I’d make a whole group of friends at one time.
DW: Did you maintain your friendships with the people from Cleveland too?
TM: Yes. I knew them. We weren’t close, but when I would see them, or even as I’ve grown up now, I remember faces. Not quite as many names as I would from Washington School, but I attended there until sixth grade, and then went to Carver High School in Rutherford County for my seventh through twelfth grade years.
DW: Now, Light Oak, was that considered part of Cleveland County at that time?
TM: Yes.
DW: So how did you end up going to Rutherfordton?
TM: I figured you would ask me that. My mother missed this part. My mother taught at--well, she did mention she taught in Rutherford County--so I rode with her to Rutherford County and attended the high school there, and graduated there. They were having lots of transitions as I moved into seventh grade at Washington, and I just felt real adamant about not wanting to go. My parents allowed--I was really surprised because I wasn’t sure when I said, “I just want to go with Mother.” I’ve always been close to her and I think that’s part of it, and I felt comfortable, so it worked out. She would drop me off and then she would go to New Hope. She taught in Rutherford County, and when she finished her day, she would come back by and pick me up.
DW: Was New Hope close to Carver in proximity?
TM: No. One was in Forest City and one was in Spindale.
DW: Oh, okay.
TM: It’s a pretty good jump.
DW: Yeah, okay. I’m not sure geographically. [Laughter] So, once you finished Washington Elementary, that was a first through sixth grade school?
TM: No, it was one through twelve. I just chose--. Yeah, it was definitely, it was one through twelve. I just didn’t want to stay.
DW: So, the transitions that you were talking about in the seventh grade, what kind of transitions were they making?
TM: They were going to get almost a brand-new staff coming in, and some of those teachers, we had already known. I don’t know, for some reason I felt very anxious about going to seventh grade. I can just remember crying a lot about just not wanting to go. I said, [with trembling voice] “I just don’t want to go. I don’t want to go.” [Laughter]
DW: Yeah. And this was in the height of when schools were desegregating?
TM: No.
DW: Okay. Before that time?
TM: Before that time.
DW: Oh, okay.
TM: It didn’t have anything to do with race. It was just my uncertainty about what would happen with the teachers and all that.
DW: So just a whole new teaching--?
TM: Um-hmm.
DW: Hmm. Yeah, I could see how that could be a little anxious.
TM: I’m thinking, I don’t know how that’s going to--.
DW: Yeah. So your parents let you go to Carver, and how was that experience? Carver, was that a one through twelve school as well?
TM: It was seven to twelve, seven-twelve.
DW: How was that experience?
TM: It was wonderful, wonderful. Met a lot of friends, great teachers. The activities--I was involved in a lot--drama, band, public speaking, lots of activities. But my educational experience at Carver was wonderful. It definitely prepared me for college, and those teachers were a lot alike with Cleveland and with Washington, for the most part. They were very strict in what they did. They disciplined us; they didn’t ask our parents if something needed to happen, they took care of it at school and then told our parents. They didn’t ask; they just made decisions. They were very willing to tutor, help after class, do whatever needed to be done, but I remember that experience very well and it’s very positive. I still connect with my friends and go back for the reunion.
DW: How often do y’all have reunions?
TM: Every other year.
DW: Okay. How large was your class?
TM: We had [pause] twenty-five, thirty--not big, not big, not big.
DW: Of the twenty-five or thirty students, did most go on to some college?
TM: Or local business. Most of them did.
DW: I think, talking with your mother, education was something that was very stressed in the household.
TM: Very important. We knew we were going to college. We didn’t know how, but that was never an “if”; it was always “when.” “When” you go to college, not “if” you go.
DW: So how did you make the decision of which colleges to apply for? Did you get assistance from teachers or guidance counselors?
TM: No, I don’t think I did. I really wanted to go to Appalachian State University and North Carolina Central were the two universities that I always--those were the two choices, so I was accepted to both. Because my mom said it got too cold in Boone, so I ended up at North Carolina Central. Appalachian at that time, that would have been different for me because I had never attended an integrated institution for school at all, and it was at the height of integration and colleges opening up to all students. But I ended up at a predominantly, historically black college, so it was great. It was a good choice. I wouldn’t give anything for it. Again, I began to see role models in positions where I had never seen them before, to see them have responsibilities and be able to lead young people and talk to them, and I had never seen that at that level, so North Carolina Central was the place for me. I loved being an Eagle, and I don’t regret not having gone to Appalachian. I don’t regret that.
DW: Now what made you even think about Appalachian State? How did you learn of it?
TM: I saw it somewhere, and I’m not sure. I was trying to remember how that university came into my mind as a consideration. Unless I heard someone talking about it, I’m not sure, but it was just two, the only two that I thought well, if I don’t get in one, I’ll go to the other, but I did get accepted at both, but then went to North Carolina Central.
DW: How was the experience, after applying and getting in? I’m not asking this right.
TM: I was in culture-shock once I got there because I lived a sheltered life, so going to that campus on my own, making all the decisions for myself, basically, once I was enrolled, was shocking. I could come and go as I wanted to and I had an opportunity to make decisions, do the right thing or not do the right thing. At that time, we did have dorm mothers--they called them mothers. They controlled the hours that we could be in and out of the dorm, but it didn’t control what we could do while we were out there, so we did have some structure as far as girls had to be in at ten-thirty, and the doors were locked. Nobody could come in and out except--well, really, we were all in and we shouldn’t have to be coming in. They would check the rooms, and if you weren’t in your room you were put on probation, so it was very strict.
DW: Did you adjust well?
TM: I adjusted. Now, that part, because I had already had rules at home, that wasn’t hard for me as far as following rules. It was just what I saw and the experiences that came with the university because I wasn’t the only student there, so I began to see different cultures, people believing different things, doing different things that I had never done or seen or heard. So it was, like, I was taken aback by what people would do and how they would do it with no thought. Alcohol was--I mean, it was there then--you could make a choice to do that or not, so it’s all about making choices when you get in a situation like that, when you’ve never experienced it, and I hadn’t. It was different; it was very different.
DW: Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine the--well--. [Laughter] TM: Loud music. You know, living on the hall, I went into a brand-new dormitory with nine stories, nine hundred girls, and I lived on the ninth floor, so they would tell us we were in heaven. Anybody knew if we said that, they knew we lived on the ninth floor, so they thought well, our dorm mother won’t ever come to the ninth floor; we’ll just do what we want to do, and so some of them did do it, but they got caught. Some of them got caught.
DW: Did they get kicked out?
TM: Yeah. I guess the impressionable experience about that was some girls had stayed out past curfew, and their friends on the ninth floor tied their sheets together and were going to pull them up the side of the building, which was not smart.
DW: I know. [Laughter]
TM: Unfortunately, one of the sheet links broke, and they were sent home. I mean, it was just--they weren’t hurt--it broke down far enough so that they could fall and not get hurt, but then they got caught.
DW: That’s lucky.
TM: But then they got caught anyway, so--.
DW: Wow.
TM: We had panty raids. I don’t know if you had those in your college.
DW: No, no. Well, I went to an all-women’s college. [Laughter]
TM: Well, the boys, they would do that. But anyway, that was different; I learned a lot. I learned about life when I went to college, because I knew absolutely nothing. Nothing, huh-uh. I hardly knew how to have a baby, and I learned real fast.
DW: On a curve? [Laughter]
TM: Yeah, those girls on ninth floor, they trained me well. They started talking about things and I’m going, “Really?” They never knew I didn’t know as little as I knew, because I listened a lot and learned a lot. Didn’t do what they were saying, but I learned a lot.
DW: Did you stay on the ninth floor all four years?
TM: Actually, my sophomore year, I moved to another dorm and then went back to the dorm as a residence counselor in my junior and senior year. I went back.
DW: Oh, so you were catching the ones with the…
TM: …I said, “I know what you’re doing because I’ve been over here.” I could only report it, and then the dorm mother would have to decide if they did something that was not in the rules. That was a good experience for me. It was wonderful. I learned about life. I learned about life.
DW: So did you come back home in the summers?
TM: Yes. Then, for my freshman year I went home, and my sophomore year, but my junior and senior, I stayed there for summer school, and I worked throughout my college career. I worked in the English Department on campus.
DW: What did you do?
TM: File papers, answer the phone, type, clerical, ran errands. You know, something they didn’t want to take, they’d send me to take it to this department, run here and there.
DW: Yeah.
TM: Go-fer. I’m a go-fer. Go for you and go for you.
DW: What was it like, having been in heaven and seen everything, and coming back home where there were tight rules? How was that?
TM: That wasn’t hard. I’ve never been one to defy the odds as far as rules. When I came home, I knew my parents were in charge. I never tried to break their curfew or tell them “I’m in school and I’m grown and I can do,” I never--and it never came to me to even say. If I came home and I was going somewhere, I had to ask for permission just like I did if I had been home all year, so--. It was a little bit different in that I’d like to do this; are there any conflicts? Which was still, in a sense, getting permission, but I never tried to come home and say, “I’m going to do this because I’m in school.” I’ve never been one to try to do that.
DW: Did you work while you were here in the summer, too?
TM: I did.
DW: What did you--?
TM: I worked at a mill, the old Sackville Mill, down off South Lafayette Street, a cotton mill. I was a loomer, I think is what they called it. Cotton looms, and you had to put them in this machine, and it was on production.
DW: The raw cotton?
TM: If you haven’t seen that--. They had them in these looms and we’d have to put them on the machine. Sackville Mill probably was (26:58) because it’s one of the oldest mills in Cleveland County, down South Lafayette. But I learned when I worked that one summer of my sophomore year, at Sackville Mill, that I would definitely be a college graduate, and that I would never, ever work in a mill. I wanted to do something different and something better for my life. It was a good experience, but it taught me what I didn’t want to do.
DW: If you could talk a little bit about what was it like, working and doing the looming that made you so sure that that’s not what you wanted to do?
TM: It was hot, it wasn’t air, it wasn’t always clean. I came home with cotton all in my nose and my head. It was just [pause] and then the people that worked there made me feel like I was less of a citizen. It was still during that integration-segregation kind of thing, so they kind of looked down on you, tried to talk down to you because they didn’t know that I was--everybody in the mill didn’t know that I was going to school, a college student or whatever. I was just home for the summer. I just applied for work. I knew that the way they looked and treated me, I didn’t want that for my life, especially if the money was--it was good for college, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and be able to live and have goals that I had set. But it was different. It was different.
DW: So that was your sole job, was to put the cotton in…
TM: …In the looms? No, I would put it in and the machine would move down and make the cotton. It was kind of raw at that point and it would make cloth. I was up at a machine, and you had to keep moving because if you missed a loom, then it messed up something down the line, so it did help me for detail, eye-hand coordination. I mean just--and pacing and paying attention. You definitely couldn’t goof off. If you were talking to somebody else, you definitely had to be focused, so it taught me a lot about tenacity, just staying with the task. It taught me a lot. The biggest thing it taught me is what I don’t want to do for the rest of my life, but it taught me a lot of other things too. It taught me how to treat people because we were taught at home you don’t treat--you know, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I didn’t like it. I wasn’t ugly; I let them know that. I didn’t let people--that is not the right thing to do, but I didn’t try to get revenge or anything like that.
DW: Was this a line that you were sitting beside someone else?
TM: Standing, so I had to stand all night.
DW: Oh.
TM: It’s a second shift job, from two to ten, so you didn’t sit, you stood.
DW: The whole time?
TM: Yeah.
DW: Did you get breaks?
TM: We got breaks, and then somebody would--what they would do is have the machinist come and cut your machine off, or either have somebody cover your machine. See, the whole line would have to do that so that you wouldn’t stop somebody else’s work down the line. You’d have this line that could take a break, so that when we came back everybody would start up together.
DW: So did you have friends that were working there as well?
TM: Huh-uh.
DW: Yeah.
TM: I just spoke when I came in, did my job and left. I cannot remember the supervisor’s name. I cannot remember any of the people I worked with.
DW: Wow.
TM: I remember the machine.
DW: Yeah. [Laughter]
TM: That was my friend. I remember the machine and that was it. I don’t even remember the manager or anybody. I don’t remember their names.
DW: So, on breaks, you kept to yourself mostly?
TM: Um-hmm.
DW: And all summer long.
TM: All summer. And the heat. I said, “I won’t do this the rest of my life.”
DW: Wow. Standing--I can’t imagine.
TM: Standing up for eight hours, sure did.
DW: How did you hear about the job?
TM: In the paper? I think I read about it in the paper. They were looking for loomers for summer work.
DW: And this was in your sophomore year?
TM: The summer of my sophomore year.
DW: Okay. And your freshman year, did you work when you came back?
TM: I baby-sat.
DW: Okay. So, after your sophomore year…
TM: …I was in summer school, so I didn’t have to come back home to work. I worked on campus.
DW: Okay, okay, in the English Department.
TM: Yes.
DW: I know your family, at least through your mother, religion through your father and education through your mother, did you have any aspirations of what you wanted to be when you were an adult?
TM: Before I became an adult?
DW: Yes.
TM: I did. I wanted to be a media supervisor. I loved books; I loved reading; I always have, and I continue to love to read. I wanted to be a librarian, and I wanted to be the best librarian. I wanted to motivate kids to love to read, to teach them how to love reading in different ways in the media center, rather than just coming in, so I tried to be very innovative when I was a media specialist. I wanted to be a supervisor. I wanted to supervise librarians and show them how they could just open the eyes of children for reading. You know, my life ended up in a totally different direction. I never aspired to be a principal, never. I never aspired to be a principal or an administrator at all, but they had an administrative intern opening at the central office in Cleveland County, and I applied and I was accepted. I actually got to see all aspects of administration, as well as supervision. So, when I finished that intern, there was an opening for an assistant principal at Elizabeth School, and my superintendent asked me if I would consider going to Elizabeth. She actually told me I was going. I think she just restated it just so I could think I was making a decision. It was like she said, “I’m sending you to Elizabeth.” I had a hard time deciding to leave the media center. I had a really hard time, but at that time I was married and we had no intentions of moving. My husband had a secure job, so if I wanted to advance in Cleveland County, supervision was not it, not for media because they didn’t and they still don’t have a media supervisor. It falls under the elementary curriculum supervisor. Now they do it through the technology because everything is so high-tech, but at that time, the elementary curriculum director would supervise the media specialists, so there was no position or no place for me in supervision, so I said yes to the Elizabeth job for assistant principal, and loved it.
DW: Yeah.
TM: Immediately, I said, “This is it. This is what I want to do.” I was not looking for a principal’s job. I had been there two years and I thought I was just in the best place ever. I said, “I can do this for the rest of my life,” and then she said, “I’m sending you to Township Three,” and I went, “Oh, no! Please!” The largest elementary school in the county, they had never had an African-American principal here at Township Three, not even in this community doing much of anything. So I thought this cannot be happening, but she said, “You either go now or it will be a long time before you get an opportunity,” so I said, “Yes, I’ll do it.”
DW: And this was just two years after Elizabeth school?
TM: I had been an assistant principal only two years.
DW: Well, that’s impressive.
TM: So we met the challenge, so we’ve been here since then.
DW: So after finishing at Central, what did you major in?
TM: Library Science.
DW: Okay.
TM: Well, actually English. I wanted to teach school. That was another aspiration. If I couldn’t get a media specialist job, I wanted to teach high school English. I didn’t get either one of those. Well, I got the media specialist job, but I really wanted to teach English. I love English. I love writing and things like that. I went to North Carolina Central, got my B.S. in English and Library Science, and went to UNC-Charlotte and got my supervision. I went back to North Carolina Central, got my master’s in Library Science, just still hoping that maybe something was out there. I went to UNC-Charlotte also and got my administrative certification.
DW: Was that at the same time you got the supervision?
TM: Uh-huh, I had an add-on. I really went for supervision, but then I added on administration, so I thought it doesn’t look like--I might better get that so I’ll have it, so it proved to be favorable for me because I had the credentials. I went back to Converse College and got my EDS, Education Specialist Degree in Administration. A few hours from my doctorate, just didn’t get it finished, but I’m okay.
DW: Were you married at the time when you were doing the graduate work and the supervision?
TM: Um-hmm.
DW: Okay. So what you were saying, your husband had a secure job, the moving, y’all were located in Cleveland County, so moving to…
TM: …I traveled back and forth to classes. I’d go after school to Charlotte at night, Saturday, summers, and I also traveled back and forth to Durham--summers, Saturdays, but actually, our household was here. We never actually moved.
DW: Wow. Yeah, I remember your mom and she did similarly, so…
TM: …She did…
DW: …you had a role model, I guess, in a way.
TM: To just make it happen. Whatever it takes, just make it happen. I have a very supportive husband. It wouldn’t have happened if he had really not supported me. It might have, but it would have been much more of a struggle.
DW: So your first job was a media specialist. At what school were you?
TM: Guess where? Washington. Back where I had left.
DW: Oh.
TM: Washington Elementary.
DW: Okay, was it still--? Well, by that time, it…
TM: …It was integrated.
DW: Okay.
TM: And it was not going through…
DW: …And it stayed open?
TM: That is the only African-American school that’s open that was of the original schools, and they kept their original name; it wasn’t changed.
DW: That’s very unusual.
TM: The other schools that they used, they changed their names. Now, all of them are closed except Washington, in the same community with the same name.
DW: Was it still a predominantly black school even though it had integrated?
TM: I wouldn’t say not, but maybe even, sort of--sixty-forty, kind of like it is here. We’re about sixty-forty.
DW: Wow. That’s really unusual.
TM: That’s the only one, and a lot of people haven’t thought about that.
DW: Yeah.
TM: Because they closed all the other black schools or they changed the names if they used them. They wouldn’t keep their names, so the community members up at Washington fought to keep the name of their school. The land had been donated. There’s a lot of history in that too, and they wanted to preserve that.
DW: Yeah, that’s very, very unusual.
TM: It is.
DW: So you were there as a media specialist. Were some of your old teachers still working there?
TM: No, the principal, Mr. Howell, was there, so I had him actually as a principal, and then again as a principal, [laughter] as a student and an employee.
DW: Was he the same from what you remember?
TM: Oh yeah, he didn’t change. All black principals, they stay the same. They were hard then and they were hard then. [Laughter]
DW: So how long did you stay there?
TM: Eleven years.
DW: Then assistant principal.
TM: At Elizabeth and then came here.
DW: Wow. So when you came here, you had mentioned that you were the first black principal…
TM: …In this community.
DW: Okay.
TM: Let’s see, maybe the second. Mary Accor was principal, and I was the first in Cleveland. I’m trying to think of who else, if anybody had come before me in Cleveland County. See, we were county schools. We had county schools, city, and then Kings Mountain, so we had three districts actually in this county. I was in the county. Maybe not all over Cleveland County, but the first in Cleveland County (school system).
DW: So did you feel any sense of responsibility in that position?
TM: Well, I always have felt responsibility if I take a position. I always want to do my best, and I always wanted to make my parents proud, so then now I had a family. I had a son and I was married, so I wanted to do whatever I could do to be respectful and be a role model in the community.
DW: How was it, dealing with parents and teachers? Did you feel accepted?
TM: It was very hard. Oh, no. Oh, no. There was very little acceptance, very little. It was very hard, at first, to get them to be receptive that I was here to help kids, and as a team, we should all work together. But I think they could not get past the color part, and then the age, because I was probably the youngest on the staff. So I come in with veteran teachers, and it’s hard for them to be receptive to what I have to say when they think they’re in charge.
DW: I don’t want to assume, but I will, that things have changed.
TM: Things have changed greatly. They really have, and I think it was because I didn’t--I have a very calm nature about myself. You know, I don’t go up against people and their views, I just try to do my job and I try to do it fairly. So if a parent comes, and they’re critical and they’re saying, “Well, you did that because you’re black,” or the child was of one race or another, I just simply try to stick to the facts. I don’t try to get into things about telling people about “No, it wasn’t about race.” I know it wasn’t, and so I give them the facts about “This is what happened with your child and this is the consequence.” I do that for all children; it doesn’t matter. So I’m not one to start screaming at people when I talk to them. We have a “no yell” policy in this building; nobody yells.
DW: Is that something that you created?
TM: Um-hmm. And the staff that was here said it wouldn’t work. I said, “It will work or you won’t work here. You will not yell at children.” I just think that’s the most disrespectful thing you can do.
DW: So that was common?
TM: Yes, yes, very common. So we won’t raise our--you won’t yell. I’m sorry. So when I interview, even now, I tell them if they are hired, before they are hired, in the interview if they’re one to be considered, I say, “We have a ‘no yell’ policy. Do you have a problem with that?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, we don’t yell. You don’t yell at kids, you don’t yell at your colleagues, parents. We don’t yell.”
DW: Wow. That you have to have a policy like that is--.
TM: It is, but you do, because some people think the only way to settle things would be to yell, and you get nothing done. Kids don’t respect you; they’ll yell back. So then, they get in trouble for yelling. I say, “Well, you yelled at him.” “I’m bringing you to the office.” “You need the referral because you yelled at him first.” You know, let me write you up for yelling. When kids, if they come and they sit in those chairs, and they start to raise their voice, I’ll say, “What’s our rule? We don’t yell.” They know we don’t yell. I say, “So don’t raise your voice at me.” “Yes, ma’am.” “You might do that at home, but we don’t yell in this building.” “I know, I know.” Unless they’re new and they just moved in, they know, so I’ll have to teach my kindergartners coming in that we don’t yell. We don’t yell. The thing about it is, I don’t have to say it a lot because it’s a model. If I find that a staff member is not doing that, I’ll walk up to them and say, “You need to lower your voice.” Most of the time, the kids don’t even hear me. “Okay, okay, okay,” and if they do it a second time, I do call them in. I’ll say, “Now, remember, you’re a role model in this building. We don’t yell. If you feel like you can’t do that, then we need to talk about something else.”
DW: Did you start this policy how soon after you were here?
TM: A year. After I observed that we had adults who were treating children in a disrespectful way. I’m not taking up for what they did, and they may have done something wrong, but I think there is a respectful way that we can treat children and they will respect us back. Whether the consequence is severe or minor, they will still respect your decision and they will remember that. I have students now who will say, “Mrs. McCluney, I remember when you spanked me,” and I appreciate it. You know, it was fair. Whatever was done was fair, and it was not that everybody in the class knew. I just think respecting people--that’s big to me. We need to respect each other and treat each other fair.
DW: Did you ever experience any problems with black parents?
TM: They do the same thing. “You did him like that because he was white.” They try to pull that, and I say, “These are the facts. This is what your child did, and guess what? He told me he did it, so he’s guilty. We’re going to talk about how we can correct this problem and keep it from happening again, and I’d like your support in this.” But yeah, we’ll have some who’ll try to do that reverse. I always treat it the same way; It didn’t matter.
DW: Across the board.
TM: Across the board, the race of the parent or the child; we just do it right, do it fair and they can’t say anything. I mean, they may not like it, but we just do it that--.
DW: Well, shifting gears just a little bit--well, a whole lot, I guess, [laughter] I wanted to talk about, or have you talk about, rather, the social life. I know you were talking about Rock Hill, playing outside, and the different games that you played, and in schools and churches that had different activities. I’m curious, when you came back from Central your freshman and your sophomore years, how had you seen Cleveland County or Shelby change in that time frame since you left in that year?
TM: I didn’t begin to see a lot of changes in our county, because we still kept to ourselves. Holly Oak Park was the park where we went. We weren’t allowed to go to Shelby City Park, so--.
DW: Even after you came back?
TM: Very little. I came back here--they had opened the park, but I was older, so some of the things they were doing out there didn’t interest me. When I was growing up, going to the park and swimming, we had to go to Holly Oak. We could see very clearly that the services were very different, so we didn’t have the opportunities to do, but we loved playing softball, and that’s what we did at Holly Oak Park, so there were things for us to do. We would go out there, so it was our spot, and it was huge and big to us. It was real special. We went to the gym; we could play different games up there once they had that park. I guess, maybe my senior year when I came back, and I was an adult then and I got married. I graduated in May and got married in August, so I began to see clearly, but I had talked about my experience even growing up in Shelby for going downtown and shopping. We couldn’t shop; we couldn’t park in certain places; we couldn’t--. You know, they still had the signs that said “Colored Water” and I remember very distinctly my mother taking us to the back of Frazier’s Shoe Store. I know exactly where it is right now, and we would have to choose from the shoes at the back of the store. There would be white people at the front, buying and shopping out there. There was a Mack’s Shoe Store on Carolina Avenue, right in the flat where this gentleman--and I kept thinking they must have put him out from downtown because he would let anybody come in and you could shop anywhere in his store. I said, “I bet they wouldn’t let him shop uptown, so he got his own place,” and he probably felt like everybody should be treated fairly, so he said, “I’m going to provide a place where anybody can come in and shop.” He was the kindest man; he was so very kind. But socially, I didn’t do a lot. My mother didn’t let us go a lot of places without her supervision, and Holly Oak Park was about it.
DW: So no movies?
TM: We went to the movie occasionally, to Rogers Theater downtown. I don’t know if they’ve shown you, those were the two theaters. They have not remodeled that one or restored it. It’s over across from the courthouse, actually a little piece down. We would have to go in the back door upstairs--couldn’t go in downstairs.
DW: And that was Washington? Was that Washington Theater?
TM: Washington was the theater just for blacks, so you could go in and do whatever, but these were the two white theaters that were downtown. If you got to go, you’d have to go in the back to go upstairs, and you couldn’t get the concessions until they finished. They’d tell you when you could. It was never cleaned up there, hardly ever. It was a mess. It was really ironic because we had our administrative retreat at the Don Gibson Theater, so some of my colleagues, we were sitting around the table--and I’m the most experienced principal in Cleveland County. He had us line up and I was at the front of the line, which was a good thing because I got to eat first at lunch, so, in front of another hundred-and-thirty people, so that was good.
DW: Oh, yeah.
TM: They were talking about how pretty it was, and they have done an excellent job with it, and they were talking about how they used to come there to the theater. They said, “The movies were good, weren’t they, Tropzie?” I said, “You wouldn’t let me come,” and they went, like, “Are you serious?” Their parents had talked about coming to Don’s theater. I said, “We couldn’t come to Don Gibson’s. It wasn’t Don Gibson--it was Webb Theater then,” and I said, “they wouldn’t let us in.” Now, that one, we could not go. Now I don’t know if (52:27) had a chance to go to that one, but my experience was--and I told them, I said, “This is my first time in Don Gibson Theater, and I have lived here all my life.” They were just floored, and I said, “It was back during segregation. They wouldn’t let us in.”
DW: Not even through the back door?
TM: We could go to Rogers. I never had an opportunity to go to Webb Theater.
DW: Wow.
TM: Never have, and so that was my first time being there. First time, historically being in that place. It’s a pretty place. I can just imagine if it was an old, run-down theater. They’ve done an excellent job doing it up.
DW: And you paid the same ticket price as--?
TM: Um-hmm. Yeah.
DW: Yeah, different times.
TM: So, socially, it was confined to Holly Oak Park and whatever activities they had there because the other activities that were on the streets on down on Carolina Avenue was hot. It was a hot place down there. They had all kind of stuff going on, but my parents never allowed us to go down there.
DW: Now, I heard of Holly Oak Park. Ray Cabaniss would have his productions.
TM: Yeah.
DW: Did you attend any of those?
TM: We would go sometimes with my mom. Really, I’m telling you, when I left here to go to college, I didn’t know what the world looked like without them, so I really was in culture shock. I was thinking oh my! What in the world are they doing?
DW: [Laughter]
TM: Don’t--definitely don’t record this--you probably know about, and all that stuff.
DW: Oh, yes, yes. Oh, Holly Oak, I think.
TM: That was a wonderful place. It was the spot. That was the spot, the highlight. That’s where you found people, black people. They would be at Holly Oak Park.
DW: Did you go much to the Negro Fair?
TM: Yes, some, with my parents. They would go. They’d have the fair, but they’d just give us a day or two. It was their fair; they just gave us a day, so it really wasn’t our fair.
DW: Oh.
TM: I mean, they called it that, but--.
DW: Okay. So, around this time, the civil rights movement, I guess the national civil rights movement and the local movement was happening. Were you aware of all of the movements that were happening?
TM: Oh, yes. Oh, yes.
DW: How did it impact Shelby?
TM: I think it brought changes immediately, with resistance to some because that set--my brother was one of the first that integrated Burns High School here in Cleveland County, so even in my household I was experiencing the fact that he’s going to be a part of history. Actually, my mom volunteered. They asked for volunteers the first year, and she volunteered him and said, “You’re going,” so he went and he was the first among few. Then the next year it wasn’t voluntary. I mean, everybody--they closed down, started transitioning schools, so it changed our county tremendously. It didn’t change all of the views and feelings of people, but it did change the actions of what needed to happen for kids and adults even. We were able to drink water downtown and go to the bathroom and park.
DW: So when you said there was separate parking, where could you park?
TM: We had to park on Washington Street on the side. There was a side parking lot over there. It was right near the hanging tree. They had a hanging tree downtown. [Laughter]
DW: And were there any stores with lunch counters?
TM: Rose’s. That was written up big because it was one of the marches here. They had a lunch counter in Rose’s.
DW: Could blacks eat at the lunch counter?
TM: Hmm-umm, and they didn’t want it to happen even after the integration. There was still big resistance.
DW: So, you were saying your brother went to--he’s older or younger?
TM: Younger.
DW: Okay. So you went to Carver, but your brother went to Burns?
TM: He was at Washington.
DW: Oh, okay.
TM: And when they made the transition, at that time, Light Oak was in the Burns District.
DW: Oh, okay.
TM: All of my brothers and sisters--well, my two older brothers--my brother and sister graduated from Washington High School. And then my brother would have graduated except integration. He went to Burns as part of that volunteer--after my mom volunteered him.
DW: I guess I’ll ask what, in spending most of your lifetime in Cleveland County, what have you seen as being the most significant changes to Cleveland County, if any?
TM: I think there have been some significant changes. I do think our schools--we still have a long way to go; we’re not there. But I think they are moving and trying to at least be open-minded about seeking out positions and giving people of all races opportunities to lead and to do some things. I do think the economic portion of what I would like to see has been the least. I really want to see our people just really take hold of their responsibilities as far as housing and education too. Again, I think we have a way, but I think they’re more open to allowing people of all races to at least be a part of government, a part of making decisions, but we definitely need to open some more holes in all of those areas.
DW: I know before, when we met, you were talking about a bank. Your talking about economics just made me think about, I guess, black businesses that were in existence that no longer seemed to be in existence here. Do you think that that’s an important component of the community to try to build up black businesses?
TM: I do. I think it is. I think more and more should take that part in being entrepreneurs or having a business. Or top management--I think it’s important that we train our people in different areas, so it’s important that when I leave and retire, that not maybe here, but somewhere, to continue to seek because then you’ve lost a spot. Not so much that it has to be at Township Three, but I think they need to continue to seek out minority administrators so that our kids can see in different places. You know, in our school system, when we think about my own children attended school and went through--a couple of my children never had a black, never had a minority teacher, never. All they saw were people of other color, so nothing was modeled for them in the field of education, so why would I choose that? Why would I want to be a teacher when I don’t see anybody that looks like me teaching?
DW: Yeah.
TM: So we definitely have a way to go with pulling in people of all races, and putting diversity--I think it’s just a word. It’s not about the racial; it’s about all the other components of that. Do you have diversity? Yeah, I have this percentage of this and this and this, and that’s not really what it’s all about. It’s that are those students in those different percentages getting an opportunity to lead and to do those things where they are put up front where others can see them lead?
DW: Yeah. Has the county changed in terms of not being just white-black any more?
TM: I think some, but I think some of that is still there. You know, Mary Accor was a commissioner, first black, and then a woman chair of the county commissioners in Cleveland County. That never happened in my lifetime and I wouldn’t even have thought of it, and my children have had an opportunity to see that, that it can happen. So what I want them to be able to see is, it can happen to me too. Guess what? I can do that too because I’ve seen it happen here in Cleveland County. I think we need more of that because she’s there now, but who’s coming up behind her? Who’s pushing for a seat on the county commissioner? Who’s trying to get on the school board? Who’s trying to--? And we need people to continue to do that. When Richard Hooker leaves, because he’s the only one on there now, where will we be? Who’s going to step up and take his place? I still think we need to open the eyes of our people and have them understand that they’ve got to keep their eyes open and they’ve got to keep moving. Some of them think oh, well, he’s there, that’s okay. No, you may have to take his place, so you need to be doing those things that will put you in a position where people will trust and respect you. I said when I retire, I think I’ll run for school board, and I think there are enough people in Cleveland County that I could probably win, but it has to be that they respect you and respect your opinion and what you’ll do for kids.
DW: Yeah. Have there been many non-black or non-white, as with Latinos or Asians or other cultures moving into the county, or that’s pretty minor?
TM: Well, no, I think it just depends on where you live. Up in the northern end there are a lot, but we have seen definitely an influx of Hispanics in our county if we look at it as a whole. There have been many.
DW: Well, I guess to close, I was just going to ask if there’s anything else that you would want to add that I haven’t asked?
TM: I think I could say I’ve enjoyed learning and living in Cleveland County. I always wanted to move away and go to some big city. I wanted to live in Connecticut, and I could see myself there, doing all of the things that I had aspired to do in my life. For the most part, I’ve been able to do those in Cleveland County, so I feel a lot of success, but I know that there are other things that need to happen in Cleveland County, and I truly would like to be a part of moving Cleveland County to its next phase of history, and maybe helping us to come together even more as a community, as a total community and not just separate.
DW: Okay, well, thank you. I appreciate it.
TM: You’re welcome.
END OF INTERVIEW
Mike Hamrick, October 14th, 2010
Tropzie McCluney was born on November 29, 1948, in York County South Carolina. Her father was the pastor of a church in South Carolina. The family moved to Shelby, North Carolina, when Tropzie was seven years old.
In this interview McCluney discusses her years growing up and describes the schools she attended, recreation at Holly Oak Park, and integration in the stores theatres, and schools. She also tells about her experiences as a college student attending North Carolina Central, working at Sackville Mill during the summer after her sophomore year, and her employment with the Cleveland County Schools as a librarian, then as assistant principal at Elizabeth School, and finally, as the first black principal at Township Three.
Profile
Date of Birth: 11/29/1948
Location: Shelby, NC