History is never still. It sits in classrooms, whispers in textbooks, hides in family stories, and shadows the daily routines of students who cross thresholds into buildings meant to educate but also to discipline, to uplift but also to sort. Noliwe Rooks’s Integrated refuses the tidy narrative we were taught to memorize. It does not accept Brown v. Board of Education as the unequivocal dawn of a better day. Instead, it asks what was sacrificed, who was silenced, and how communities once rich in their own educational institutions were undone in the name of progress.
To read this book is to encounter a difficult accounting. It begins in the celebratory register of May 17, 1954, with judges in black robes proclaiming the end of “separate but equal.” Yet almost immediately the texture thickens, the promises unravel. Rooks documents the closures of Black schools, the dismissals of thousands of Black teachers, the unraveling of a professional class that had anchored communities. She shows how schoolhouses were bombed, how classrooms were desecrated, how the very structures that once held generations of Black students were burned to the ground. And she does this not as a detached historian, but as the descendant of educators, activists, and children who lived through those changes. Her family is woven into the argument like a thread that ties theory to blood.
One of the great strengths of Integrated is how it marries rigor with intimacy. Rooks cites legal opinions, court transcripts, and sociological studies with the discipline of a scholar who knows the archives inside and out. But she also returns to her father’s experiences, her grandmother’s classrooms, her son’s present-day encounters with tracking and subtle exclusion. The reader cannot mistake the stakes: this is not abstract. It is generational. It is embodied. It is the record of what happens when policies are made at the level of principle but lived at the level of neighborhood.
Consider the story of Detroit, where literacy became not only a constitutional question but a battlefield. Rooks shows us activists like Helen Moore, fighting to demand that children had not only the right to a seat in a building but the right to read, to imagine futures. She pulls us into lawsuits, emergency manager laws, and the indignities of neglected infrastructure. The detail is harrowing, but the pattern is clear: integration without investment produced abandonment, not equity.
Or look at San Francisco’s Potrero Hill, where “integration” meant placing students into hostile environments without support, where the language of opportunity cloaked realities of surveillance and criminalization. Rooks names the schools, the principals, the neighborhood organizations, even the television shows that told children what they were worth. She does not flinch from recounting the moments when white resistance turned violent, or when policies coded as neutral entrenched division.
The chapter on Black teachers is perhaps the beating heart of the book. We learn how thousands lost their jobs after Brown, how communities lost role models and advocates, how the absence of same-race teachers rippled into lowered expectations and diminished opportunities for Black children. Rooks pulls from oral histories, newspaper accounts, and the scholarship of others to demonstrate that integration did not mean equality; it meant displacement. Here the book is devastating in its clarity: the victory of access came at the price of institutional loss.
Rooks also insists on drawing connections to health, to poverty, to the everyday environments in which children grow. She notes that structural racism is not only educational but medical, environmental, psychological. Noise pollution, segregated housing, unequal healthcare—all of these shape the learning lives of children. This holistic approach makes Integrated more than an education history; it is a cultural history of how America defines worth and opportunity.
And yet, the book is not only an autopsy of failed promises. It is also a search for possibility. Community schools, Rooks argues, offer a model rooted in accountability and collaboration. She highlights the work of the Black Panther Party’s Oakland Community School, the vision of Mary McLeod Bethune, and the more recent efforts like LeBron James’s I Promise School. These examples are fragile, contested, sometimes uneven in results, but they point toward a different paradigm: schools as community anchors, places where parents, teachers, and children are bound together in shared responsibility.
The writing itself demands attention. Rooks’s sentences often carry the rhythm of oratory, with repetition and emphasis that recall both sermon and speech. She shifts between historical narration and personal recollection without breaking stride. The effect is cumulative: by the time you finish, you are not only persuaded by the data but also moved by the insistence of memory.
Still, there are limits. Some readers will wish for a more sustained exploration of integration’s successes—moments when children did flourish across racial lines, when resources truly did expand. Others may want a more detailed roadmap of how to scale community-based models, how to resist the forces of privatization and segrenomics that Rooks has charted in earlier work. These gaps do not undermine the achievement, but they do leave the reader hungry for more practical scaffolding.
What Integrated achieves, however, is a reframing so powerful that it cannot be ignored. It asks us to reconsider one of the central myths of American progress and to see instead the costs that myth has hidden. It insists that we remember the teachers who lost their posts, the children who faced violence in unfamiliar schools, the communities that were told their institutions were inferior when in fact they had been lifelines. It shows how policy, however well-intentioned, can wound when it does not listen to those it purports to serve.
The book resonates because it is honest. It does not claim that segregation was preferable. It does not argue for nostalgia. Instead, it presses us to ask: integration at what cost, and for whom? What might have been achieved if investment had flowed into Black schools rather than away from them? What models can we imagine now that honor community knowledge rather than erase it? These are questions that will not fade with time.
In my reception, the book earns a rating of 90 out of 100.
That number is less important than the weight of what remains after the final page: the images of lost schools, the voices of silenced teachers, the resilience of families still fighting for dignity in education. Rooks has given us a work that is both archive and testimony, both critique and elegy. It belongs not only on the shelves of scholars of education and history, but in the hands of parents, teachers, and policymakers who must confront the unfinished business of equality.
To read Integrated is to sit in a classroom where the walls hold memory, where the chalkboards bear names of the forgotten, where every lesson is an invitation to see clearly. It is sobering, unflinching, and necessary. And it ensures that when we talk about education as the path to freedom, we do so with eyes wide open.