Marching On: The Fight for School Integration in Hillsboro, Ohio

When their school district refused to integrate after Brown v. Board of Education was decided in 1954, a group of Black mothers in Southwest Ohio marched their children to the white school, demanding admission, only to be turned away every day for two years. Their activism resulted in one of the longest sustained protests of the civil rights era. Today, their children remain committed to telling the story of their mothers’ activism and of Ohio’s role in the movement.
The story of the Hillsboro Lincoln School Marchers is an important one in America’s fight for racial justice. For years, it went largely untold. Ohio Humanities is proud to share this story in myriad ways, including a 20-minute documentary film, discussion guides and more.
Read the Story
Watch the Documentary
Meet the Marchers
Learn More
Discuss the Film
In the News
More Resources
In the summer of 1954, the nation held its collective breath as Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren took the center chair in the nation’s highest courtroom. America’s system of racial segregation hung in the balance as he prepared to read the Court’s unanimous opinion in Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka.
“Separate but equal,” he read, “has no place in the Constitution.”
School segregation was now, in theory, illegal. But as the Black community in Hillsboro, Ohio, knew, theory and practice are two dramatically different things.
Hillsboro was one of those Northern towns where officials approached integration cautiously. Although the community’s high schools were integrated by 1946, the elementary schools were still racially segregated. Black students attended Lincoln, and white students went to Webster and Washington. After the Brown decision, the school board announced that they would integrate the elementary schools only after they were finished remodeling the Washington school building, which they projected would take two years.

Lincoln Elementary School in Hillsboro
Although Hillsboro’s school officials were comfortable delaying integration, the Highland County engineer—a white man who believed segregation was wrong—was furious about the injustice. The week before the fire, Philip Partridge listened to his minister preach in defense of those who break the law in pursuit of just reforms. If there is no school for Black children to attend, Partridge surmised, then the white schools must allow the Black children in.
In the early morning hours of July 5, Partridge broke into Lincoln Elementary and set it on fire. He was eventually found guilty of arson and served nine months in prison. But he always defended his actions as justified.
Partridge, it turns out, had ignited not just a structure but also a movement that would eventually place this quiet, rural town at the epicenter of the battle to desegregate schools nationwide.
Despite the Brown decision and Partridge’s arson, which had irreparably damaged Lincoln, Hillsboro’s school board still planned to keep Lincoln open for the town’s Black elementary students. The school board made minor repairs, slapped on a fresh coat of paint and declared Lincoln Elementary ready to welcome Black students for the year.
In response, a group of 18 Black mothers and 37 children marched to the white school, demanding admission. Upon being rejected, they woke up the next morning and marched again. And again. And again. For two years, they marched. Even their eventual win came at a cost. Theirs is a story of pain. Of passion. Of determination. And of love.

Marchers outside Webster Elementary
THIS PROJECT is supported in part by OHIO HUMANITIES' generous Conversation Starters:
John M. Glaze
in honor of the Lincoln School Marchers
David Descutner and DeLysa Burnier in honor of Ada Woodson Adams and Dr. Francine Childs

in honor of Kim Eckert and Shelley Rogers
Dr. Rustom and Mary Khouri
in recognition of Susan Smith
Doreen Uhas-Sauer and John Sauer in memory of Cathy D. Nelson (1951-2022)
Susan Ferraro Smith and Bob Smith in honor of Mary Jane Ferraro, Mary Margaret Smith, and Carmella Mazzella Ferraro


Rebecca Brown Asmo
in honor of Marisa Brown
Jerolyn Barbee
Kathy Sue Barker
Anne and Tim Bezbatchenko
in honor of Jack and Sarah Bezbatchenko
Douglas and Marisa Brown
in memory of Beryl Force and Faustina Cenci
Kathleen Burgess
Judith and Richard Bryan
Brodi and Andrea Conover
Mr. and Mrs. Richard R. Cook
Becky and Ward Cornett
Patricia Diller
Deena Epstein
Katherine Fell
in honor of Winzer and Vivian Andrews
Shellee Fisher
in honor of Marqus, Jr. and Camille Crawford
Ivy Freeman
Amanda Hayes
Betsy Hedler
Ann Heffernan
Ted Inbusch
John and Carolyn Kellis
Catherine and Steve Kennedy
in honor of Seyla Kramer
Emil and Jean Kmetec
Vicki Knauff
Philip Kuceyeski
Rebecca Lash
Thomas and Kathryn Law
Louis Levy
Lisa Lopez Snyder
Kelly Mezurek
Dan Moder
in honor of Susan E. Chenault
MJ and Jim Pajk
in honor of Janice Pajk and Shirley McLean
Kevin and Carla Miller
Dan Moder
in memory of Susan E. Chenault
Dennis and Karen Moriarty
Heather Ness
Harold and Suzanne Niehaus
Frances Penn
in memory of Gary M. Penn, Sr.
Diana, Chris, and Scarlett Rebman
in honor of Delores "Dee" Rebman
Kevin R. Rose
Ann Schenking and Michael Herrlein
Carey Schmitt
Faye Sholiton
Matthew Schott
Sarah Sisser
in honor of Barb Lockard
William and Susan Trollinger
Amy Grace and Doug Ulman
in honor of Diana Ulman and Johanna Roussell
Paul Watkins
Megan Wood

Many of the Lincoln School students who marched are still alive today. By sharing their story, the marchers hope to inspire other to remember their mothers and continue the work they started.
Their commitment to keeping the story of the march--and their mothers--alive reminds us of the importance of education and of how recent the civil rights movement is in our past.

Eleanor Curtis Cumberland, 79
Mother: Imogene Curtis
“People would come to my mother for a lot of different things, like if they were having housing discrimination or job discrimination or even problems with the courts. My mom wrote letters to prisons and lawyers and to judges on people's behalf. So I know what my mom did. With every fight, you have to have somebody leading it.”

Joyce Clemons Kittrell, 80
Mother: Gertrude Clemons
“At that time, the parents were very strict about learning. My dad always told me, ‘You do 100%. If you can do 150%, you do it.’ And so that kind of helped a lot, you know? We knew we had to do it because we'd have been right back where we were before if we didn’t—not allowed to go places and not allowed to do things.”

Myra Cumberland Phillips, 74
Mother: Zella Mae Cumberland
“We've still got a long way to go, but I hope children today learn what we actually, really went through. And really, I never sat down and explained it all to my boys until after this (documentary) film came out. I didn't think they would be interested. I never did explain it to them when they were little. I just would say, ‘You better get an education.’ ”

Teresa Williams, 79
Mother: Sallie Williams
“I have often been asked, how did we get along with kids after we got into Webster School. We would tell the difference from the kids who knew about the desegregation problem in Hillsboro. Because the kids who didn’t have a problem playing with us, it wasn’t being talked about in their homes. The kids who had a problem with the Black students knew about the desegregation problem in Hillsboro.”

Virginia Steward Harewood, 76
Mother: Elsie Steward Young
“I mean, two or three months (of marching) was something. But we went for two years every day, rain or shine. I thought, ‘Why do we have to continue to do the same thing over and over when we knew they weren’t going to let us in?’ So, at 8, you can imagine what that was like.”

Carolyn Steward Goins, 74
Mother: Elsie Steward Young
“(Being held back) wasn't nice. It wasn't fun at all. We already knew all that we had learned from the kitchen schools when they put us back. So we knew everything they were trying to teach us. It still bothers me. It makes me mad. But, you know, we met so many nice people. I wasn't fond of going back to school, but I enjoyed all the kids that I got acquainted with.”

Ralph Steward, 72
Mother: Elsie Steward Young
“I appreciate everything my mother did, because she made it easier for the Black kids to go to school. And we've had several that have graduated college. And it all stems from what happened in '54 to '56. I don't want people to feel sorry for me, but sorry for the way that we were treated. There's so many things we were not able to do because of our skin color. And it's not right. I would hope that they wouldn't ever want to go backward. We need to continually go forward.”
Civil Rights Queen: Constance Baker Motley and the Struggle for Equality by Tomiko Brown-Nagin
An African American Dilemma: A History of School Integration and Civil Rights in the North by Zoë Burkholder
Why Busing Failed by Matthew Delmont
“Early Boycotts of Segregation Schools: The Case of Springfield, Ohio, 1922-23” by August Meier and Elliot Rudwick
The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America by Richard Rothstein
Sweet Land of Liberty by Thomas Sugrue
"The Long Walk" by Sara Stankorb
"Essay B" from This American Life
"The Forgotten Mothers of Civil Rights History" from Throughline
The Three Mothers: How the Mothers of Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and James Baldwin Shaped a Nation by Anna Malaika Tubbs
"Picturing Black History: Marching Mothers" by Jessica Viñas-Nelson
Self-Taught: African American African American Education in Slavery and Freedom by Heather Andrea Williams
"Fire of Justice: The Battle for School Desegregation in Hillsboro" by Pat Williamsen
What connections can you make between the Hillsboro march and the larger context of other social protests, past or present?
Philip Partridge’s decision to burn the Lincoln School had unintended consequences for the Black community. What actions do you think are appropriate for non-marginalized members of society to take to help a marginalized social group?
Why do you think the Black families were so intent on changing segregation in the educational system rather than other social spaces like, for example, diners or movie theaters?
After Brown v. Board of Education was decided, the Hillsboro school board rezoned the school districts to keep Lincoln an all-Black school. In what other ways has redistricting or rezoning affected race relations in other American communities?
Why do you think it was important for the mothers to challenge segregation both in the courtrooms and on the streets of their local community?
Why do you think some parents chose to keep their children at the Lincoln school, despite the efforts of others in Hillsboro’s Black community to boycott the public school system?
The Civil Rights Movement is typically characterized as being led by charismatic Black men, but the march in Hillsboro was headed by Black women. How does that change the way we think about the Movement?
In what ways did this protest act as a model for future social action against racial inequality? In what ways might this protest inspire social change today?