In a clip from her interview with Bad For The Community Podcast, guest Catherine T. Morris delivers a raw and powerful account of her time in the METCO (Metropolitan Council for Educational Opportunity) program—a voluntary desegregation initiative that transports students of color from Boston to predominantly white suburban schools. Sharing deeply personal stories, she unpacks the racism she faced, the challenges of navigating two worlds, and the complex reality of code-switching.
Morris, the youngest of five siblings, was introduced to METCO through her older brother. Thanks to the program’s then-existing “two-for-one” entry policy, she gained access to a suburban school system—entering Lincoln School District in second grade after leaving Boston Public Schools (BPS) in Roxbury. Though the transition promised academic opportunities, it came at a cost.
The daily grind was relentless: waking up at 5 AM, catching a bus by 6:45 AM, and enduring a long commute before a full school day. Afternoons often stretched into late evenings with extracurriculars, leaving little time for rest. Yet, the biggest challenge wasn’t the commute—it was the racism.
Morris recalls one of her first encounters with discrimination when she was called the N-word in second grade—not by a white student, but by a Hispanic peer. Ironically, her first defender was a white classmate named Jessica, who later became a lifelong friend and host family member. However, racism wasn’t just among students—it was ingrained in the school system itself.
A particularly harrowing experience involved her second-grade teacher, Ms. Rosen, who actively deprived Black students of education. Instead of classroom instruction, Morris was assigned to clean cubbies and wipe floors while her classmates went to recess. When her mother challenged the school, the METCO director initially dismissed her concerns.
The breaking point came when Morris, frustrated with the constant belittlement, pushed a chair across the room. The school’s response? Labeling her an “angry Black girl” and placing her in special education.
Despite being unfairly categorized, Morris excelled academically. Her mother fought tirelessly to keep her on track, staying in constant contact with the METCO administration. By ninth grade, she was removed from special education, proving the system wrong. But the struggle wasn’t just academic—it was also social.
As a student living in Roxbury but attending school in an affluent, predominantly white town, Morris felt the weight of class and racial divides. Wealthy peers lived in multimillion-dollar homes with endless freedoms, while METCO students commuted long hours and battled constant microaggressions. She recalls incidents of bullying, food theft, and isolation, which made her feel like an outsider in both worlds.
Yet, one of the few bright spots in her journey was her host family, who provided unwavering support. While some METCO students had difficult experiences with host families, hers was deeply aligned with civil rights values, offering her a sense of belonging in an otherwise hostile environment.
Every year, her mother asked if she wanted to continue in the program, and every year, she chose to stay. For Morris, METCO wasn’t just about access to a better education—it was a test of resilience and a commitment to breaking barriers.
The podcast wraps up with a discussion on code-switching, questioning whether it’s a survival tactic or an invaluable skill. Morris’ story embodies the broader debate: in spaces that demand assimilation, how much of yourself do you compromise to succeed?
