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Chapter VI. Black Race And Red Race
During the year that I spent in Washington, and for some little
time before this, there had been considerable agitation in the
state of West Virginia over the question of moving the capital of
the state from Wheeling to some other central point. As a result
of this, the Legislature designated three cities to be voted upon
by the citizens of the state as the permanent seat of government.
Among these cities was Charleston, only five miles from Malden,
my home. At the close of my school year in Washington I was very
pleasantly surprised to receive, from a committee of three white
people in Charleston, an invitation to canvass the state in the
interests of that city. This invitation I accepted, and spent
nearly three months in speaking in various parts of the state.
Charleston was successful in winning the prize, and is now the
permanent seat of government.
The reputation that I made as a speaker during this campaign
induced a number of persons to make an earnest effort to get me
to enter political life, but I refused, still believing that I
could find other service which would prove of more permanent
value to my race. Even then I had a strong feeling that what our
people most needed was to get a foundation in education,
industry, and property, and for this I felt that they could
better afford to strive than for political preferment. As for my
individual self, it appeared to me to be reasonably certain that
I could succeed in political life, but I had a feeling that it
would be a rather selfish kind of success--individual success at
the cost of failing to do my duty in assisting in laying a
foundation for the masses.
At this period in the progress of our race a very large
proportion of the young men who went to school or to college did
so with the expressed determination to prepare themselves to be
great lawyers, or Congressmen, and many of the women planned to
become music teachers; but I had a reasonably fixed idea, even at
that early period in my life, that there was a need for something
to be done to prepare the way for successful lawyers,
Congressmen, and music teachers.
I felt that the conditions were a good deal like those of an old
coloured man, during the days of slavery, who wanted to learn how
to play on the guitar. In his desire to take guitar lessons he
applied to one of his young masters to teach him, but the young
man, not having much faith in the ability of the slave to master
the guitar at his age, sought to discourage him by telling him:
"Uncle Jake, I will give you guitar lessons; but, Jake, I will
have to charge you three dollars for the first lesson, two
dollars for the second lesson, and one dollar for the third
lesson. But I will charge you only twenty-five cents for the last
lesson."
Uncle Jake answered: "All right, boss, I hires you on dem terms.
But, boss! I wants yer to be sure an' give me dat las' lesson
first."
Soon after my work in connection with the removal of the capital
was finished, I received an invitation which gave me great joy
and which at the same time was a very pleasant surprise. This was
a letter from General Armstrong, inviting me to return to Hampton
at the next Commencement to deliver what was called the
"post-graduate address." This was an honour which I had not
dreamed of receiving. With much care I prepared the best address
that I was capable of. I chose for my subject "The Force That
Wins."
As I returned to Hampton for the purpose of delivering this
address, I went over much of the same ground--now, however,
covered entirely by railroad--that I had traversed nearly six
years before, when I first sought entrance into Hampton Institute
as a student. Now I was able to ride the whole distance in the
train. I was constantly contrasting this with my first journey to
Hampton. I think I may say, without seeming egotism, that it is
seldom that five years have wrought such a change in the life and
aspirations of an individual.
At Hampton I received a warm welcome from teachers and students.
I found that during my absence from Hampton the institute each
year had been getting closer to the real needs and conditions of
our people; that the industrial reaching, as well as that of the
academic department, had greatly improved. The plan of the school
was not modelled after that of any other institution then in
existence, but every improvement was made under the magnificent
leadership of General Armstrong solely with the view of meeting
and helping the needs of our people as they presented themselves
at the time. Too often, it seems to me, in missionary and
educational work among underdeveloped races, people yield to the
temptation of doing that which was done a hundred years before,
or is being done in other communities a thousand miles away. The
temptation often is to run each individual through a certain
educational mould, regardless of the condition of the subject or
the end to be accomplished. This was not so at Hampton Institute.
The address which I delivered on Commencement Day seems to have
pleased every one, and many kind and encouraging words were
spoken to me regarding it. Soon after my return to my home in
West Virginia, where I had planned to continue teaching, I was
again surprised to receive a letter from General Armstrong,
asking me to return to Hampton partly as a teacher and partly to
pursue some supplementary studies. This was in the summer of
1879. Soon after I began my first teaching in West Virginia I had
picked out four of the brightest and most promising of my pupils,
in addition to my two brothers, to whom I have already referred,
and had given them special attention, with the view of having
them go to Hampton. They had gone there, and in each case the
teachers had found them so well prepared that they entered
advanced classes. This fact, it seems, led to my being called
back to Hampton as a teacher. One of the young men that I sent to
Hampton in this way is now Dr. Samuel E. Courtney, a successful
physician in Boston, and a member of the School Board of that
city.
About this time the experiment was being tried for the first
time, by General Armstrong, of education Indians at Hampton. Few
people then had any confidence in the ability of the Indians to
receive education and to profit by it. General Armstrong was
anxious to try the experiment systematically on a large scale. He
secured from the reservations in the Western states over one
hundred wild and for the most part perfectly ignorant Indians,
the greater proportion of whom were young men. The special work
which the General desired me to do was be a sort of "house
father" to the Indian young men--that is, I was to live in the
building with them and have the charge of their discipline,
clothing, rooms, and so on. This was a very tempting offer, but I
had become so much absorbed in my work in West Virginia that I
dreaded to give it up. However, I tore myself away from it. I did
not know how to refuse to perform any service that General
Armstrong desired of me.
On going to Hampton, I took up my residence in a building with
about seventy-five Indian youths. I was the only person in the
building who was not a member of their race. At first I had a
good deal of doubt about my ability to succeed. I knew that the
average Indian felt himself above the white man, and, of course,
he felt himself far above the Negro, largely on account of the
fact of the Negro having submitted to slavery--a thing which the
Indian would never do. The Indians, in the Indian Territory,
owned a large number of slaves during the days of slavery. Aside
from this, there was a general feeling that the attempt to
education and civilize the red men at Hampton would be a failure.
All this made me proceed very cautiously, for I felt keenly the
great responsibility. But I was determined to succeed. It was not
long before I had the complete confidence of the Indians, and not
only this, but I think I am safe in saying that I had their love
and respect. I found that they were about like any other human
beings; that they responded to kind treatment and resented
ill-treatment. They were continually planning to do something
that would add to my happiness and comfort. The things that they
disliked most, I think, were to have their long hair cut, to give
up wearing their blankets, and to cease smoking; but no white
American ever thinks that any other race is wholly civilized
until he wears the white man's clothes, eats the white man's
food, speaks the white man's language, and professes the white
man's religion.
When the difficulty of learning the English language was
subtracted, I found that in the matter of learning trades and in
mastering academic studies there was little difference between
the coloured and Indian students. It was a constant delight to me
to note the interest which the coloured students took in trying
to help the Indians in every way possible. There were a few of
the coloured students who felt that the Indians ought not to be
admitted to Hampton, but these were in the minority. Whenever
they were asked to do so, the Negro students gladly took the
Indians as room-mates, in order that they might teach them to
speak English and to acquire civilized habits.
I have often wondered if there was a white institution in this
country whose students would have welcomed the incoming of more
than a hundred companions of another race in the cordial way that
these black students at Hampton welcomed the red ones. How often
I have wanted to say to white students that they lift themselves
up in proportion as they help to lift others, and the more
unfortunate the race, and the lower in the scale of civilization,
the more does one raise one's self by giving the assistance.
This reminds me of a conversation which I once had with the Hon.
Frederick Douglass. At one time Mr. Douglass was travelling in
the state of Pennsylvania, and was forced, on account of his
colour, to ride in the baggage-car, in spite of the fact that he
had paid the same price for his passage that the other passengers
had paid. When some of the white passengers went into the
baggage-car to console Mr. Douglass, and one of them said to him:
"I am sorry, Mr. Douglass, that you have been degraded in this
manner," Mr. Douglass straightened himself up on the box upon
which he was sitting, and replied: "They cannot degrade Frederick
Douglass. The soul that is within me no man can degrade. I am not
the one that is being degraded on account of this treatment, but
those who are inflicting it upon me."
In one part of the country, where the law demands the separation
of the races on the railroad trains, I saw at one time a rather
amusing instance which showed how difficult it sometimes is to
know where the black begins and the white ends.
There was a man who was well known in his community as a Negro,
but who was so white that even an expert would have hard work to
classify him as a black man. This man was riding in the part of
the train set aside for the coloured passengers. When the train
conductor reached him, he showed at once that he was perplexed.
If the man was a Negro, the conductor did not want to send him to
the white people's coach; at the same time, if he was a white
man, the conductor did not want to insult him by asking him if he
was a Negro. The official looked him over carefully, examining
his hair, eyes, nose, and hands, but still seemed puzzled.
Finally, to solve the difficulty, he stooped over and peeped at
the man's feet. When I saw the conductor examining the feet of
the man in question, I said to myself, "That will settle it;" and
so it did, for the trainman promptly decided that the passenger
was a Negro, and let him remain where he was. I congratulated
myself that my race was fortunate in not losing one of its
members.
My experience has been that the time to test a true gentleman is
to observe him when he is in contact with individuals of a race
that is less fortunate than his own. This is illustrated in no
better way than by observing the conduct of the old-school type
of Southern gentleman when he is in contact with his former
salves or their descendants.
An example of what I mean is shown in a story told of George
Washington, who, meeting a coloured man in the road once, who
politely lifted his hat, lifted his own in return. Some of his
white friends who saw the incident criticised Washington for his
action. In reply to their criticism George Washington said: "Do
you suppose that I am going to permit a poor, ignorant, coloured
man to be more polite than I am?"
While I was in charge of the Indian boys at Hampton, I had one or
two experiences which illustrate the curious workings of caste in
America. One of the Indian boys was taken ill, and it became my
duty to take him to Washington, deliver him over to the Secretary
of the Interior, and get a receipt for him, in order that he
might be returned to his Western reservation. At that time I was
rather ignorant of the ways of the world. During my journey to
Washington, on a steamboat, when the bell rang for dinner, I was
careful to wait and not enter the dining room until after the
greater part of the passengers had finished their meal. Then,
with my charge, I went to the dining saloon. The man in charge
politely informed me that the Indian could be served, but that I
could not. I never could understand how he knew just where to
draw the colour line, since the Indian and I were of about the
same complexion. The steward, however, seemed to be an expert in
this manner. I had been directed by the authorities at Hampton to
stop at a certain hotel in Washington with my charge, but when I
went to this hotel the clerk stated that he would be glad to
receive the Indian into the house, but said that he could not
accommodate me.
An illustration of something of this same feeling came under my
observation afterward. I happened to find myself in a town in
which so much excitement and indignation were being expressed
that it seemed likely for a time that there would be a lynching.
The occasion of the trouble was that a dark-skinned man had
stopped at the local hotel. Investigation, however, developed the
fact that this individual was a citizen of Morocco, and that
while travelling in this country he spoke the English language.
As soon as it was learned that he was not an American Negro, all
the signs of indignation disappeared. The man who was the
innocent cause of the excitement, though, found it prudent after
that not to speak English.
At the end of my first year with the Indians there came another
opening for me at Hampton, which, as I look back over my life
now, seems to have come providentially, to help to prepare me for
my work at Tuskegee later. General Armstrong had found out that
there was quite a number of young coloured men and women who were
intensely in earnest in wishing to get an education, but who were
prevented from entering Hampton Institute because they were too
poor to be able to pay any portion of the cost of their board, or
even to supply themselves with books. He conceived the idea of
starting a night-school in connection with the Institute, into
which a limited number of the most promising of these young men
and women would be received, on condition that they were to work
for ten hours during the day, and attend school for two hours at
night. They were to be paid something above the cost of their
board for their work. The greater part of their earnings was to
be reserved in the school's treasury as a fund to be drawn on to
pay their board when they had become students in the day-school,
after they had spent one or two years in the night-school. In
this way they would obtain a start in their books and a knowledge
of some trade or industry, in addition to the other far-reaching
benefits of the institution.
General Armstrong asked me to take charge of the night-school,
and I did so. At the beginning of this school there were about
twelve strong, earnest men and women who entered the class.
During the day the greater part of the young men worked in the
school's sawmill, and the young men worked in the laundry. The
work was not easy in either place, but in all my teaching I never
taught pupils who gave me much genuine satisfaction as these did.
They were good students, and mastered their work thoroughly. They
were so much in earnest that only the ringing of the
retiring-bell would make them stop studying, and often they would
urge me to continue the lessons after the usual hour for going to
bed had come.
These students showed so much earnestness, both in their hard
work during the day, as well as in their application to their
studies at night, that I gave them the name of "The Plucky
Class"--a name which soon grew popular and spread throughout the
institution. After a student had been in the night-school long
enough to prove what was in him, I gave him a printed certificate
which read something like this:--
"This is to certify that James Smith is a member of The Plucky
Class of the Hampton Institute, and is in good and regular
standing."
The students prized these certificates highly, and they added
greatly to the popularity of the night-school. Within a few weeks
this department had grown to such an extent that there were about
twenty-five students in attendance. I have followed the course of
many of these twenty-five men and women ever since then, and they
are now holding important and useful positions in nearly every
part of the South. The night-school at Hampton, which started
with only twelve students, now numbers between three and four
hundred, and is one of the permanent and most important features
of the institution.
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