In Durham, outcry over a racial slight vs. tolerance of more urgent concerns | Opinion

In recent days, the Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People and several Black elected officials have called on the president of the Durham Association of Educators (DAE) to apologize for referring to Superintendent Dr. Anthony Lewis by his first name during a meet-and-confer session.

The moment occurred after Lewis abruptly ended the meeting once it had run past the agreed -upon time limit, cutting it off while DAE President Mika Twietmeyer was still providing remarks. Frustrated, she responded by using his first name, which since become a flashpoint in the broader tensions between Durham Public Schools leadership and the teachers’ association.

Titles matter. Credentials matter. Respect matters, especially in a country where Black achievement has historically been minimized and denied. No one should dismiss the significance of Black academic and professional accomplishment.

But many in the community are asking why has this particular slight generated such swift, coordinated indignation when far more urgent crises affecting Durham have not produced the same unified response?

If intentionally omitting “Dr.” warrants public statements and demands for apology, where is this same organized moral urgency when Black youth are killed by gun violence? Where is the coordinated outcry over literacy rates that continue to lag for Black students? Where is the sustained pressure around long-term achievement gaps?

Families across Durham are burying children. Parents are struggling to ensure their sons and daughters can read on grade level. Teachers and students are still navigating post-pandemic learning loss. Yet the loudest collective outrage we have seen recently centers on a title.

And let’s be real about the broader political context that cannot be ignored. For more than a decade, organizations like the People’s Alliance and the Durham Association of Educators have played a disproportionate and outsized role in shaping Durham’s political landscape. Their endorsements often determine which candidates are viable and which are marginalized. Campaigns are literally structured around securing their approval, and enormous political capital and financial resources are invested in winning their support.

At the same time, many Black leaders and candidates have described experiencing dismissiveness from segments of Durham’s white progressive political class. That disrespect has surfaced on the campaign trail, in endorsement meetings, and in organized opposition to Black community leaders who refuse to conform or who challenge prevailing narratives. Some have faced coordinated opposition and been labeled divisive simply for asserting independent Black political priorities.

When outrage erupts over a missing title while longstanding patterns of dismissiveness toward independent Black voices go largely unaddressed, it forces an uncomfortable question. Is this about principle or about protecting a political hierarchy and caste system?

Consistency matters. Dignity must be defended everywhere, not only when it is politically convenient.

If language matters, and it absolutely does, then we must also revisit moments when language has diminished Black youth. Where was the same coordinated outrage when the current mayor, Leo Williams, referred to Black youth as “YNs”? If the improper use of a professional title warrants public demands for apology, then references that stereotype or trivialize young Black people warrant equal concern. We cannot be fierce in defending professional titles while silent in defending the humanity of Black children.

There is a difference between respectability politics and responsible leadership. Respectability politics focuses on optics, including titles, decorum, and presentation. Responsible leadership focuses on outcomes, such as safety, literacy, graduation rates, and opportunity. Black Durham deserves leaders who prioritize outcomes over optics.

Black families are not asking for theatrical disputes over etiquette. They are asking why their neighborhoods feel unsafe. They are asking why classrooms feel unstable. They are asking why economic displacement and gentrification continues. They are asking whether the next generation will inherit more opportunity or less.

If this moment is truly about respect, then it must expand. We must apply the same intensity to youth violence prevention, demand measurable benchmarks for Black student achievement, and confront dismissiveness wherever it appears.

Durham does not need selective outrage. Durham needs leadership that shows up the same way in every room.

Yes, titles matter. But lives matter more. If we are serious about justice, we must use our loudest voices for the crises threatening the future of Black children and not just the etiquette of a single meeting.

Donald Hughes is a Durham resident and community activist.