Michael Johnston’s memoir of teaching in an underresourced school in the Mississippi Delta follows in the footsteps of Herbert Kohl, Jonathon Kozol, and this book’s foreword contributor, Robert Coles. In the Deep Heart’s Core is the story of Johnston’s two-year tenure as a Teach for America (TFA) corps member teaching high school English in the Mississippi Delta. Teach for America is a national organization that recruits recent college graduates to teach for two years in underserved school districts in twenty urban and rural communities across the country that have experienced teacher shortages.

While his efforts fall short of re-creating the archetype of teacher memoir, Johnston does succeed in following the well-worn territory of well-intentioned young White teachers who meet with moderate success with their students. His stories of students who triumphed and failed academically and personally provide detailed accounts of how we, as a nation, have not done enough to provide a quality education for all students—particularly those that are poor and Black. Unfortunately, these stories are told with Johnston as spectator instead of participant.

Most poignant, though, are the moments when Johnston recounts his stories of being a Yankee in the South. His attempts to live in a Black neighborhood are thwarted by a landlord portrayed by Johnston as a likely racist who disapproves of his desire to cross the color line. Ultimately, Johnston is selected as a tenant for a house wanted by Black families in an all-White neighborhood. The second landlord hesitantly admits to Johnston, “You’re single, you’re young, you’re a school teacher, you’re white. I gotta tell you I jumped at it when I got your call” (p. 22). This was one of several glimpses into the context in which Johnston tries to be a good teacher and good person invested in the lives of his students and their families.

The book has four parts. Part One focuses on Johnston’s arrival in the Delta, setting the scene of an America stuck in a time warp at least twenty-five years behind. In the Mississippi Delta, Johnston finds country living, extreme poverty, and segregation marked by the age-old railroad tracks in the middle of town. His first day of school begins with a daunting walk to the cafeteria where teachers collect their homerooms. Faced with a fight between two high school girls, Johnston is forced to “impose a teacher’s authority” (p. 30) on the situation, but fails miserably.

Part Two begins the chronicling of individual student stories. There is Corelle, Johnston’s nemesis and the most poignant example of a teacher’s triumph and failure; Jevon, a hard worker who had fallen through the cracks of a failing public school system; and, finally, Larry, a rebellious yet quiet student turned class clown.

After playing a game of chess during a late afternoon detention, Larry and Johnston gain a quiet respect for each other:

“Larry,” I said, “do you have a ride home?” He turned back toward me but could not look up. “Yes, sir. I’ll be alright.” He raised his powerful hand and weakly waved good-bye, then shuffled out the door. I had heard Larry call me “Mike” and “punk” and “weak” and “cracker” and “dumbass” and even “fucker” under his breath. Usually, when he wanted something he just said “Hey,” refusing to offer the perfunctory respect that would accompany the title “Mr.” I never imagined that he would call me “sir.” I fell back into my chair and stayed there until I was jarred by the rattling of the chains across the door downstairs.

When I drove out of the parking lot and started home, I saw Larry walking north toward his house in patient strides — eyes fixed straight ahead. I knew he didn’t have a ride when I asked him back in the classroom, but that was the way he wanted it. (p. 97)

Part Three further elaborates on the social challenges of living in poverty faced by his students. An honor student at Greenville High is shot and killed, and Johnston details how he and his students deal with grief while life goes on. The narrative reveals Johnston’s deep personal feelings of grief for the fallen student. Substance abuse, teenage sex, and the allure of dealing drugs all challenge the lives of Johnston’s students. In telling the stories, Johnston is both bystander and intimate participant at any given moment. His story of grief gives way to a detached recounting of those students who are also parents. At a loss for words, we see Johnston hearing about the sex lives and moral dilemmas of his students without hearing his personal reactions. Part Four condenses his second year of teaching into a few short vignettes of successes, as if the trials of the first year disappeared in a puff.

Despite some pitfalls, Johnston’s book puts a face to the plight of underfunded rural public schools. The stories Johnston became privy to during his two-year teaching stint are the stories that illustrate the need for policy interventions that bring financial and human resources to an outdated school system that relies on local taxes and is built on generations of racial segregation. Much of the difficulty faced by Johnston’s students was exacerbated by a public school system that further complicated the lives of students with teachers and administrators that were ineffective or unsupportive.

Johnston’s book is among the first teaching memoirs of Teach for America corps members. It is important to note that this story comes from the rural perspective, while the majority of teachers placed by TFA serve urban schools. Powerful education advocates, including Kozol, have been longtime supporters of Teach for America. One goal of the organization is to encourage its alumni to be lifetime advocates for educational equity for all children. Johnston makes a valiant attempt to do just that in his book.

H.H.