
By Lt. Ken Roland, Westside Gazette Newspaper Contributor
       FORT LAUDERDALE, FLâ Broward County schools implemented large-scale busing in the early 1970s to fulfill court-ordered desegregation, moving Blackstudents from predominantly African American neighborhoods into newly constructed or rebalanced schools in an effort to integrate education systems FIU Digital Commons. While some students and families adapted without incident, many communities experienced backlash and violence.
My vivid memories of the hateful graffiti, the televised-like chaos, and the solidarity in crisis reflect not just one isolated moment but a broader national struggle for justice, representation, and human dignity during a tumultuous chapter in U.S. history.
A brandânew high school, Boyd H. Anderson High, built as part of Broward Countyâs integration mandate erupted in racial unrest when Black students arriving by bus that morning discovered a hateful message sprayâpainted across its walls: âN**gers Go Back to Africa.â
Despite school staff efforts to repaint the wall with cream-colored paint, the spray-painted slur bled visibly through, an ominous reminder of the underlying tensions. As Black students disembarkedâmany of them newly assigned under the desegregation busing planâthey hesitated, choosing to remain outside rather than enter what felt like an unsafe environment.
Administrators, including the principal and deans, all urged the students to proceed to class. Yet the weight of the offense on that wall silenced much dissent. When one teacher, a pregnant white woman opened her classroom door amid escalating commotion, she shouted, âYou students need to go back to class!â In response, a chaotic mob formed: pounding lockers, tearing them from walls, and yelling, âF* them Crackers.â
Recognizing the danger, I pulled the teacher back inside. A white peer joined to help push and lock the door. We all remained inside until the disruptive noises subsided. When silence finally fell, we exited and made our way to the sanctuary of the schoolâs large band room.
Outside, police sirens echoed, and a helicopter circled overhead underlining the gravity of the incident.
This violent outburst underscored the fragile reality of integration: a program designed to uplift and unify, marred by hatred and fear. Over fifty years later, survivors and witnesses still recall the words on the wall, the solidarity among the students, and the terrifying escalation of events that day.