FLAG FUROR.

THE CONFEDERATE COLORS FLYING ATOP THE SOUTH CAROLINA CAPITOL REIGNITE OLD RACIAL TENSIONS

Three flags adorn the top of the flagpole outside A.C. Flora High School in Columbia, South Carolina: the United States Stars and Stripes, the Palmetto tree and crescent moon of the South Carolina state flag, and the red, white, and blue of the Flora Falcons' school banner.

Just a few miles away, at the South Carolina Statehouse, another red, white, and blue banner flies alongside the state and national flags. But that six-foot standard, the Confederate battle flag carried by Southern troops during the Civil War, doesn't inspire quite the same loyalty among Flora's students.

"I don't think it's right that black people should accept the Confederate flag as their flag, because it really wasn't," says Rasheed Jones, 17, a senior who is African-American. "When it comes down to it, the Confederate flag represented white people. I say, put it in a museum."

But Matt La Schuma, 18, who drives to Flora each day in a car adorned by a Confederate flag vanity plate, thinks the flag should remain atop the Statehouse in honor of the soldiers who died fighting for the Confederacy. "Their memory's getting stomped on," Matt says.

And he plans to keep his Confederate license plate, no matter what fellow students think. "It can go down (from the Statehouse), but it's going to stay on my car," he says defiantly.

REOPENING OLD WOUNDS

The students' diverging views mirror a debate raging throughout South Carolina, the only state left in the South where the Confederate flag is flown on the capitol. South Carolina's governor, major business groups, and African-American organizations want the flag removed, but the state legislature, which controls the flagpole, has refused to do so. The dispute has become a national spectacle and a staple of the presidential election campaign. For the state's teenagers, many of whom thought issues of race had been settled in the last century, the debate has been a stark reminder of how far race relations have yet to go.

A DEBATE OVER HISTORY

The fight over the flag is the latest episode in a long history of tension and discord between white and black citizens in South Carolina. The flag has flown over the Statehouse dome since 1962, when it was hoisted during a Civil War centennial celebration. But that year was also a time of renewed racism, as many whites reacted angrily to court-ordered school desegregation.

Still, integration was relatively peaceful in South Carolina, although not entirely successful. When black and white schools were merged, it was the black schools that lost their mascots and team colors. And thousands of white parents yanked their kids out of the public schools. Between 1964 and 1977, nearly 200 new, mostly white, private or parochial schools were established throughout the state.

In Columbia, the state capital, 45 percent of the city's residents are African-American, but few of its schools reflect the city's racial balance. In the city's largest district, for example, 75 percent of the public-school students are black and 22 percent are white. At Flora, one of the most racially balanced high schools in the city, 52 percent of the students are white and 42 percent are black.

For most black students, and many white students, the flag is a symbol of racism and slavery. "It's a reminder of a dark period in South Carolina's history, and an ignorant period that we need to move on from," says Tyler Bax, 18, a senior who is white.

Most people in the state agree. Opinion polls show that around 60 percent of South Carolinians want the flag o taken down or moved. With the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, a national civil rights organization, calling for a boycott of South Carolina tourism until the flag comes down, pressure to remove the banner is as great as it has ever been. In January, 46,000 people, including many students, marched on the state capitol to demand, the flag's removal.

But to many white students, the flag symbolizes their Southern heritage and independence from the federal government. South Carolina was the first state to secede in 1861, partly to preserve slavery, but also to assert its independence from Washington.

"It's not a racial, black-white thing to me," says Peter Muller, 17, a senior, whose ancestors fought in the Civil War. "It's not a hate thing. It's more of a heritage thing. I fly it on my vehicle to honor them, and to honor the heritage of the South."

But Karen Wilson, 17, an African-American, doesn't buy it. "When you fly a flag, you're in support of whatever that flag symbolizes," she argues. "When you see someone flying a Nazi flag, I mean, sure, German people died fighting for what they believed in. By flying the Confederate flag, they're sending out the message that they're in support of what was going on back then."

Like Muller, Carl Ellsworth, 18, has ancestors who fought in the Civil War. "The flag means a lot to me for that reason," he says. But he agrees that the state capitol is the wrong place for it. "It should be taken down and put in a respectful place, like a museum," he says.

INTEGRATED LIFE

Until the flag became an issue, many students at Flora considered racism a problem of their parents' generation. They describe a world where teens of different races join the same clubs, play sports and go to dances together, and where interracial dating still raises eyebrows, but is not unheard of.

Black students say they do still encounter instances when the color of their skin matters. Karen Wilson, for instance, the only black student in her AP English class, says her teacher singled her out to explain the African-American. holiday of Kwanzaa. "It doesn't really offend me, though, because I guess he figures that none of the rest of them really know," she says.

But the flag debate has again put race front and center. Many students are embarrassed by the actions of their legislature, one which has also made South Carolina the only state without an official holiday marking the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr.

"It makes our state as a whole look bad," says Mary Reames Sawyer, 17, a white senior and vice president of the student body. "By leaving the flag there, we're basically saying that we're not sorry for what we did. I think by bringing it down and putting it in a place where people can still respect it and all that kind of stuff, then we're saying, `This is something we're not proud of, but it's part of our heritage. And we've learned from that."