[n.b. - page numbers refer to printed text. Available at https://archive.org/details/blackmansburden0000will ] CHAPTER XVII Some time ago, accompanied by more than a dozen of my co-workers, I went into the country to learn what was the condition of the Negroes in that section, and found myself in the midst of a progressive colony of them,—a colony that owned altogether about five thou- . sand acres. And this is in the state whose former Gov- ernor declared publicly that the Negroes were going backward, and that they were incapable of assimilating the white man’s civilization. Just before I reached the colony I stopped at a store owned by a white man. Only one white man, the pro- prietor, was at the store, and he was sitting on the gal- lery, chatting with about twenty Negroes. While get- ting some refreshments I found out that the relation be- tween the races was of the most cordial sort. And when I reached the Negro colony and talked with them, I found that they all spoke in the highest terms of their white neighbors. To ride up and down seven miles of territory owned by Negroes, to look into their beaming faces, and to re- ceive their warm handshake is a satisfaction that no one can know who has not lived among and grown up with the people. The success of this particular community is due to a Negro teacher who settled here some years ago. Some of the Negroes own as much as seven hundred THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 189 acres of land, and are replacing the old one-room cabin with neat, modern cottages. The model for these little homes is the one occupied by the teacher himself. At his house we had supper, which was prepared directly from his gardens, barnyards, and fields, the cooking and prep- aration of the food being all that the most fastidious could desire. After more than twenty persons had par- taken of this hospitality there seemed to be enough for twenty more. Where people live on the products of their own fields, gardens, and barnyards, food is seldom scarce. Near by were school buildings, which had been erected by this Negro teacher, with the assistance of his neigh- bors. Everything was apparently neat and trim. The test of a school, however, is its backyard, so I withdrew from the crowd and went on a tour of inspection. Every- thing was in excellent condition; even the horse lot and ¢ow barn were clean and sanitary. In addition to the school, there was a little store, a place where the teacher supplied the neighbors when they did not have time to go to the white man’s large store up the road. Into his school this teacher is trying to introduce what we call “industrial features,” such as cooking and sewing, and some of the good neighbors are like they used to be at Utica,—they “don’t want their children taught to work for white folks.” Valuable work is being done through the indirect in- fluence of our school by some of its graduates. A few years ago there appeared at my office three little girls, with their brother, all knocking for admittance. Presently their father appeared. He had brought them through the country. All covered with dust, he ap- 190 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN proached and asked if I would arrange some way where- by his children could help to educate themselves; he had a large family and found it practically impossible to send them all to school unless they could work to pay at least a part of their expenses. He was a local preacher, and was what you would call a “good liver” as a farmer. I admitted the four young people, with the understand- ing that he would pay what he could and that I would permit them to work out the remainder. After five years of work and study at this Institution, they all four were ready to be graduated when one of them died. The other two girls, Ada and Minnie, with their brother, Fred Morrison, returned to their home at Learned, and began “community work,” as they had seen it carried on here. They had, the last time I visited them, the best school community to be found in their county. The County Superintendent of that county states that it is the first model school for Negroes ever constructed in his county. What is more, these young people, together with their father, so worked on the hearts and minds of their little community that they succeeded in inducing the people themselves, together with their white neighbors, to raise sufficient funds to build this schoolhouse without outside assistance. It is a splendid rural schoolhouse, with three good rooms, two of them used for teaching the ordinary day pupils and the third for teaching cooking and sewing, the “domestic arts.’ In it they have a cook stove, a sewing- machine, and some other simple apparatus. Outside the boys are taught trucking and farming on a little plot of land belonging to the school. The two young women do THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 191 the inside work, together with the academic teaching, while the brother teaches the boys farming and black- smithing. He has a portable blacksmith shop, which he himself erected on a little one-horse wagon. After he has used this shop for a given number of days each week at the little school at Learned he then travels through the country as an agent of the Jeanes Fund, visiting all the Negro schools in the county, teaching them blacksmithing and farming, trying to imbue them with the idea of progress so that they may succeed in their school com- munity just as he has done in his. It is this kind of work, done by the young men and women whom we shall be able to send out from time to time from various schools, that will bring about the salvation of our people in the rural districts. One other incident will, perhaps, emphasize the point. One day I was walking out to our plantation along a lone- some country road when I was overtaken by a farm wagon the occupants of which were a man and his wife and his mother-in-law. Upon their invitation, I got up to ride with them. The wife, a more than ordinarily in- telligent woman, started the conversation. “°Fessor,” she said, “this is my old man. Ever since I heard that lecture of yours down yonder at Zion, two years ago, we’s been a-living better. My old man was not there, but I went home and told him how you said we could live, and we started out to live that way. We began raising all sorts of vegetables, and chickens and eggs, so that we now have plenty of everything to eat at home and something to sell every week. The flour you see on this wagon right now is bought with some chickens 192 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN and eggs I have just sold. Me and the old man makes the crops and Mamma raises the chickens and gathers up the eggs. I sho’ is glad you spoke there that day. Everybody in that neighborhood is living better; they all has chickens and eggs.” This shows, at least, that opinion is changing among the masses of the people. They are learning to move up- ward and forward, to measure themselves by higher standards, and to hope for better things. To bring about this condition is the first step,—the pioneer work. But our greatest work is among those who come to us as students. For instance, a girl came to school not long ago who did not have a change of clothes nor a cent of money. She brought her mother’s only milch cow, which she offered in payment for her schooling. The cow really did not seem to be worth the feed that was necessary to bring her to the point of usefulness, but in order to en- courage the young woman we accepted the cow and al- lowed her to proceed with her education, working as she went. This young woman is typical of many who enter the Institution under adverse circumstances and afterward become useful in the communities to which they return. I have in mind a young woman who entered the Institu- tion several years ago, simply because she had nowhere else to go;-she had no father and she had been abandoned by her mother. She finished the course of study and has since proved to be one of the most energetic workers that we have sent out. At the present time she is engaged as a teacher, in the charge of girls, in the Robert Hungerford Industrial THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 193 School, Eatonville, Florida. The following paper writ- ten by her at the time of her graduation will be of interest because of the light it sheds upon the whole subject: “Memory carries me back six years ago, when I was but a little ragged, illiterate girl, roaming the fields and public roads of Utica, with no idea of ever becoming a boarding-student of any institution. Being a poor girl, without a father’s aid, I had to struggle very hard for a living. Mother had to work away from home the greater part of the time, hence I received little or no fireside training. “The church services were limited,—preaching once a month, and Sunday school every Sunday. Very often, however, I could not attend these services, because of my mother’s absence, bad weather, or a long distance which rendered it unsafe for me to go alone. “Fortunately, most of my associates were school girls, and my being so far behind them inspired me to want an education. “My opportunity for obtaining an education in those early days was indeed meager. The rural school, three or four miles from home, made it impossible for me to at- tend school in the winter, for at that time only a few months were taught, and those in the heart of the winter. I was too small at the time to walk such a distance in bad weather, and when I became large enough to attend school, regardless of weather, I had to work for my sup- port. Mother, having other children to support, was not able to aid me in any way toward getting an education. What little opportunity I had for learning, therefore came from what my older sister taught me in odd mo- ments. I remember quite well that the first books I ever 194 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN owned were given to me by a white lady for sweeping her yard. They were too high for me at the time; how- ever, by my sister’s help, I managed to get some benefit from them. “The year 1902 was my last year on the home farm; it was the hardest and most discouraging year of my life. Just as I was about to give up all, Mr. Holtzclaw came to Utica and took charge of the St. Peter’s public school, which was the beginning of the Utica Normal and In- dustrial Institute. I first started as a day student. A few weeks afterwards the principal, having an occasion to go North, offered me the great opportunity of staying with his wife while he was away. She, seeing my condition, became interested in me at once, and when the time came for me to return home she offered me an opportunity to educate myself, providing I would do whatever was as- signed to me to do with all my heart. I eagerly grasped the opportunity, for I was indeed anxious for an educa- tion. “In the beginning, my work seemed hard on account of my not knowing how to do it properly. I knew little or nothing about house work, therefore I became discour- aged. But, my teachers being kind and patient with me, and by my taking in and carrying out the lessons taught me from day to day, it was not long before I found pleasure in doing my work, and it has resulted in good for me. “To-day my mind in retrospect sees those days I thought so dark. Behind me is a struggle of six years; before me a world of duties. I do not regret a moment of my time spent at Utica. I am proud of the Institution and what it has done for me. Had it not been for our noble Principal, who left his comfortable home to come THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 195 to this most needy section, I would still be groping in utter darkness. By making the best of my time and tal- ent I have been able to receive certificates from four dif- ferent departments of the Institution, which means that I can do the work intelligently. “My future life shall be devoted to my people, to whom in a small way I shall be what Utica has been to me. “T find no words to express my gratitude to the Utica Institute. It has been to me what Lincoln was to the slaves. He freed their bodies, and his life teaches us true freedom of the soul. Utica Institute has freed my body, for Iam no more confined to one line of work, but I can, with intelligence, cook, wash, iron, sew, and keep house. It has freed my soul by giving me a moral education. “T am ever grateful to our Principal for that whole- some instruction he has given me year after year. Dear to my memory are those words that fell from his lips once upon a time as I sat under the oak: ‘No man has within him the power to keep another permanently down. With a strong and healthy body, will power and deter- mination, all obstacles can be trampled under foot as one moves towards the goal.’ I am indebted to him for the everlasting principles of right which he taught and for the foundation of success which he tried so earnestly to impress upon me. “THEODOSIA SKELTON.” While this educational work was progressing we were still carrying on the local work to the best of our ability, extending the scope of the Institution and trying to make it more and more substantial. We had begun the erec- tion of the largest building we had ever attempted,— Booker T. Washington Hall,—but just as it was about 196 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN two-thirds completed, June 9, 1910, we were visited by a severe cyclone that completely destroyed this building together with several others. As it was just after the closing of school, the buildings had been vacated and no lives were lost. But we were left practically without shelter. When the storm occurred it was about bedtime, and two min- isters had come to spend the night with me. They had just retired, both sleeping in the same room. When the storm was at its height I heard buildings falling, and our house was shaking so violently that I thought I had better go in and see how my guests were faring. I found them both down on their knees praying. One of them, how- ever, got up at intervals, looked out of the window to see how the storm was progressing, and then kneeled again to pray. Before the storm had ceased, one of the teach- ers came to my window, and knocking excitedly, said that several of the buildings had been destroyed. I knew be- fore he told me what had happened, but I did not have the courage to face the desolation, and when he assured me that no lives had been lost I directed him to go back to his room and remain until morning. By daybreak I had made my plans for rebuilding,— plans that extended over two years of work. Going to work vigorously, I made a strenuous cam- paign, and as a result, aided as I was by many of my friends both at home and in the East, I succeeded in rais- ing within ninety days fourteen thousand dollars. While I was busy raising this money Mr. D. W. L. Davis, our faithful and efficient superintendent of industries, was on the spot, and he superintended all the building and THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 197 repairing. He succeeded so well with the work that when the trustees met four months later to inspect the work we were doing they felt constrained to give Mr. Davis special commendation. The Institute owes a great deal to the devoted teachers that have been connected with the school from time to time. At one time, in the early history of the school, while I was away from home trying to raise funds, I received this note from one of the teachers,—a woman: ‘Dear Principal: I regret to have to bother you, but I am actually almost barefooted and cannot go from one build- ing to another. If you can send me enough money to get a pair of shoes, I will not bother you again soon.” Mr. D. W. L. Davis, an expert blacksmith, stuck by his post from year to year, on a salary so small that when he was called to neighboring towns on Saturdays to do horseshoeing he used to bring back, as a result of his work, more than half the amount of his monthly wages. This money he turned into the school’s treasury. With- out such devoted helpers as these were the school could not have gone forward,—indeed, could scarcely have continued to exist. While speaking of those who have helped me I must not forget the service of my good wife, Mary Ella, with- out whose help I should most certainly have lost heart and failed. Born in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, in a city, and having gone from there while yet a girl to Tuskegee Institute, where she remained until after she was grown, she never knew anything about country life until she began work at Snow Hill, Alabama, the same school in which I 198 THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN worked for four years. I was greatly impressed even then with the way in which she adapted herself to coun- try life, but it was after we had married and had entered upon our work at Utica that I began to understand her character, her willingness to make sacrifices in order that good might be accomplished. In all these years that I have lived and worked with her I have come to know that there are few sacrifices she would not make, if by so doing she could further the interests of our people. For instance: in the early history of this school, when we were just starting the school and were both strangers, it became often necessary for me to leave her for three and four months at a time,—a stranger among strangers, —but she always bore it with a fortitude that nothing seemed ever to disturb, except when I told her, as I often did, that she seemed to be happier when I was away from home than when I was there. As the work has grown from year to year greater re- sponsibilities have attached to it, but these responsibili- ties, until within recent years, have always devolved upon her shoulders in my absence, and even now those whom I leave in charge of the school when I am away depend very largely upon her judgment in matters pertaining to the best interests of the school. From the very first she has been a teacher in the Insti- tution, having had charge for the past few years of the girls’ industries as director. She has her office in the girls’ building and maintains regular office hours the year round, where all girls have free access to her when neces- sary. This has lifted from me all along a great burden, for no problems ever arise among the girls that cannot THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN 199 be settled without my taking a greater part than a mere consultation with my wife. Although I am given most of the credit for the work that has been done here, it is but fair to say that the greater portion of this credit should go to Mary Ella, for it seems to me that she has been truly the power behind the throne, and sometimes all around the throne. There are many other consecrated workers connected with this Institution that might be mentioned. There are two at least that must be mentioned, the Misses Clara J. and Mary Lee, first cousins, the two young women who were with me when I first opened a public school in this section of the country and who have been with me ever since, honored teachers and efficient workers. The latter is now Mrs. Harris, but she is still actively engaged in the work, being the widow of William H. Harris, who was mentioned in a former chapter as having sacrificed his life in the interest of this work in its early history.