By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
But Campos never fixed anything. His story now is that the parents never told him about segregation at Preston Hollow. Instead, he says, they mainly griped about Parker and how she couldn't speak Spanish. Campos, who also hasn't read the judge's ruling even though he's in it, later told his LULAC colleague that the parent's concerns were not credible.
Even after the judge's ruling, local LULAC chapters largely remained silent. The local district director for LULAC, the otherwise vigilant Coty Rodriguez Anderson, has been practically invisible. Of course, Anderson has the same dilemma as her LULAC peers. She works as a school counselor for DISD.
But while Flores and Campos seem relatively apathetic about the judge's ruling, Anderson at least expresses outrage over what happened. About LULAC's surprisingly low profile in the wake of the judge's ruling, Anderson admits, "It's on me."
The theme of split allegiances seems to run through the entire saga. When Casey Thomas was sworn in as the new president of the local chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, The Dallas Morning News quoted him as saying, "We ain't going to take it anymore." But the NAACP has not exactly raised hell about why two-thirds of all black children at Preston Hollow somehow wound up in ESL classes. Of course, Thomas is a DISD teacher.