Chapter XI.

Making Their Beds Before They Could Lie On Them

A little later in the history of the school we had a visit from General

J.F.B. Marshall, the Treasurer of the Hampton Institute, who had had

faith enough to lend us the first two hundred and fifty dollars with

which to make a payment down on the farm. He remained with us a week,

and made a careful inspection of everything. He seemed well pleased

with our progress, and wrote back interesting and encouraging reports

to Hampton. A little later Miss Mary F. Mackie, the teacher who had

given me the “sweeping” examination when I entered Hampton, came to see

us, and still later General Armstrong himself came.

At the time of the visits of these Hampton friends the number of

teachers at Tuskegee had increased considerably, and the most of the

new teachers were graduates of the Hampton Institute. We gave our

Hampton friends, especially General Armstrong, a cordial welcome. They

were all surprised and pleased at the rapid progress that the school

had made within so short a time. The coloured people from miles around

came to the school to get a look at General Armstrong, about whom they

had heard so much. The General was not only welcomed by the members of

my own race, but by the Southern white people as well.

This first visit which General Armstrong made to Tuskegee gave me an

opportunity to get an insight into his character such as I had not

before had. I refer to his interest in the Southern white people.

Before this I had had the thought that General Armstrong, having fought

the Southern white man, rather cherished a feeling of bitterness toward

the white South, and was interested in helping only the coloured man

there. But this visit convinced me that I did not know the greatness

and the generosity of the man. I soon learned, by his visits to the

Southern white people, and from his conversations with them, that he

was as anxious about the prosperity and the happiness of the white race

as the black. He cherished no bitterness against the South, and was

happy when an opportunity offered for manifesting his sympathy. In all

my acquaintance with General Armstrong I never heard him speak, in

public or in private, a single bitter word against the white man in the

South. From his example in this respect I learned the lesson that great

men cultivate love, and that only little men cherish a spirit of

hatred. I learned that assistance given to the weak makes the one who

gives it strong; and that oppression of the unfortunate makes one weak.

It is now long ago that I learned this lesson from General Armstrong,

and resolved that I would permit no man, no matter what his colour

might be, to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him. With

God’s help, I believe that I have completely rid myself of any ill

feeling toward the Southern white man for any wrong that he may have

inflicted upon my race. I am made to feel just as happy now when I am

rendering service to Southern white men as when the service is rendered

to a member of my own race. I pity from the bottom of my heart any

individual who is so unfortunate as to get into the habit of holding

race prejudice.

The more I consider the subject, the more strongly I am convinced that

the most harmful effect of the practice to which the people in certain

sections of the South have felt themselves compelled to resort, in

order to get rid of the force of the Negroes’ ballot, is not wholly in

the wrong done to the Negro, but in the permanent injury to the morals

of the white man. The wrong to the Negro is temporary, but to the

morals of the white man the injury is permanent. I have noted time and

time again that when an individual perjures himself in order to break

the force of the black man’s ballot, he soon learns to practise

dishonesty in other relations of life, not only where the Negro is

concerned, but equally so where a white man is concerned. The white man

who begins by cheating a Negro usually ends by cheating a white man.

The white man who begins to break the law by lynching a Negro soon

yields to the temptation to lynch a white man. All this, it seems to

me, makes it important that the whole Nation lend a hand in trying to

lift the burden of ignorance from the South.

Another thing that is becoming more apparent each year in the

development of education in the South is the influence of General

Armstrong’s idea of education; and this not upon the blacks alone, but

upon the whites also. At the present time there is almost no Southern

state that is not putting forth efforts in the direction of securing

industrial education for its white boys and girls, and in most cases it

is easy to trace the history of these efforts back to General

Armstrong.

Soon after the opening of our humble boarding department students began

coming to us in still larger numbers. For weeks we not only had to

contend with the difficulty of providing board, with no money, but also

with that of providing sleeping accommodations. For this purpose we

rented a number of cabins near the school. These cabins were in a

dilapidated condition, and during the winter months the students who

occupied them necessarily suffered from the cold. We charge the

students eight dollars a month—all they were able to pay—for their

board. This included, besides board, room, fuel, and washing. We also

gave the students credit on their board bills for all the work which

they did for the school which was of any value to the institution. The

cost of tuition, which was fifty dollars a year for each student, we

had to secure then, as now, wherever we could.

This small charge in cash gave us no capital with which to start a

boarding department. The weather during the second winter of our work

was very cold. We were not able to provide enough bed-clothes to keep

the students warm. In fact, for some time we were not able to provide,

except in a few cases, bedsteads and mattresses of any kind. During the

coldest nights I was so troubled about the discomfort of the students

that I could not sleep myself. I recall that on several occasions I

went in the middle of the night to the shanties occupied by the young

men, for the purpose of confronting them. Often I found some of them

sitting huddled around a fire, with the one blanket which we had been

able to provide wrapped around them, trying in this way to keep warm.

During the whole night some of them did not attempt to lie down. One

morning, when the night previous had been unusually cold, I asked those

of the students in the chapel who thought that they had been

frostbitten during the night to raise their hands. Three hands went up.

Notwithstanding these experiences, there was almost no complaining on

the part of the students. They knew that we were doing the best that we

could for them. They were happy in the privilege of being permitted to

enjoy any kind of opportunity that would enable them to improve their

condition. They were constantly asking what they might do to lighten

the burdens of the teachers.

I have heard it stated more than once, both in the North and in the

South, that coloured people would not obey and respect each other when

one member of the race is placed in a position of authority over

others. In regard to this general belief and these statements, I can

say that during the nineteen years of my experience at Tuskegee I

never, either by word or act, have been treated with disrespect by any

student or officer connected with the institution. On the other hand, I

am constantly embarrassed by the many acts of thoughtful kindness. The

students do not seem to want to see me carry a large book or a satchel

or any kind of a burden through the grounds. In such cases more than

one always offers to relieve me. I almost never go out of my office

when the rain is falling that some student does not come to my side

with an umbrella and ask to be allowed to hold it over me.

While writing upon this subject, it is a pleasure for me to add that in

all my contact with the white people of the South I have never received

a single personal insult. The white people in and near Tuskegee, to an

especial degree, seem to count it as a privilege to show me all the

respect within their power, and often go out of their way to do this.

Not very long ago I was making a journey between Dallas (Texas) and

Houston. In some way it became known in advance that I was on the

train. At nearly every station at which the train stopped, numbers of

white people, including in most cases of the officials of the town,

came aboard and introduced themselves and thanked me heartily for the

work that I was trying to do for the South.

On another occasion, when I was making a trip from Augusta, Georgia, to

Atlanta, being rather tired from much travel, I rode in a Pullman

sleeper. When I went into the car, I found there two ladies from Boston

whom I knew well. These good ladies were perfectly ignorant, it seems,

of the customs of the South, and in the goodness of their hearts

insisted that I take a seat with them in their section. After some

hesitation I consented. I had been there but a few minutes when one of

them, without my knowledge, ordered supper to be served for the three

of us. This embarrassed me still further. The car was full of Southern

white men, most of whom had their eyes on our party. When I found that

supper had been ordered, I tried to contrive some excuse that would

permit me to leave the section, but the ladies insisted that I must eat

with them. I finally settled back in my seat with a sigh, and said to

myself, “I am in for it now, sure.”

To add further to the embarrassment of the situation, soon after the

supper was placed on the table one of the ladies remembered that she

had in her satchel a special kind of tea which she wished served, and

as she said she felt quite sure the porter did not know how to brew it

properly, she insisted upon getting up and preparing and serving it

herself. At last the meal was over; and it seemed the longest one that

I had ever eaten. When we were through, I decided to get myself out of

the embarrassing situation and go to the smoking-room, where most of

the men were by that time, to see how the land lay. In the meantime,

however, it had become known in some way throughout the car who I was.

When I went into the smoking-room I was never more surprised in my life

than when each man, nearly every one of them a citizen of Georgia, came

up and introduced himself to me and thanked me earnestly for the work

that I was trying to do for the whole South. This was not flattery,

because each one of these individuals knew that he had nothing to gain

by trying to flatter me.

From the first I have sought to impress the students with the idea that

Tuskegee is not my institution, or that of the officers, but that it is

their institution, and that they have as much interest in it as any of

the trustees or instructors. I have further sought to have them feel

that I am at the institution as their friend and adviser, and not as

their overseer. It has been my aim to have them speak with directness

and frankness about anything that concerns the life of the school. Two

or three times a year I ask the students to write me a letter

criticising or making complaints or suggestions about anything

connected with the institution. When this is not done, I have them meet

me in the chapel for a heart-to-heart talk about the conduct of the

school. There are no meetings with our students that I enjoy more than

these, and none are more helpful to me in planning for the future.

These meetings, it seems to me, enable me to get at the very heart of

all that concerns the school. Few things help an individual more than

to place responsibility upon him, and to let him know that you trust

him. When I have read of labour troubles between employers and

employees, I have often thought that many strikes and similar

disturbances might be avoided if the employers would cultivate the

habit of getting nearer to their employees, of consulting and advising

with them, and letting them feel that the interests of the two are the

same. Every individual responds to confidence, and this is not more

true of any race than of the Negroes. Let them once understand that you

are unselfishly interested in them, and you can lead them to any

extent.

It was my aim from the first at Tuskegee to not only have the buildings

erected by the students themselves, but to have them make their own

furniture as far as was possible. I now marvel at the patience of the

students while sleeping upon the floor while waiting for some kind of a

bedstead to be constructed, or at their sleeping without any kind of a

mattress while waiting for something that looked like a mattress to be

made.

In the early days we had very few students who had been used to

handling carpenters’ tools, and the bedsteads made by the students then

were very rough and very weak. Not unfrequently when I went into the

students’ rooms in the morning I would find at least two bedsteads

lying about on the floor. The problem of providing mattresses was a

difficult one to solve. We finally mastered this, however, by getting

some cheap cloth and sewing pieces of this together as to make large

bags. These bags we filled with the pine straw—or, as it is sometimes

called, pine needles—which we secured from the forests near by. I am

glad to say that the industry of mattress-making has grown steadily

since then, and has been improved to such an extent that at the present

time it is an important branch of the work which is taught

systematically to a number of our girls, and that the mattresses that

now come out of the mattress-shop at Tuskegee are about as good as

those bought in the average store. For some time after the opening of

the boarding department we had no chairs in the students’ bedrooms or

in the dining rooms. Instead of chairs we used stools which the

students constructed by nailing together three pieces of rough board.

As a rule, the furniture in the students’ rooms during the early days

of the school consisted of a bed, some stools, and sometimes a rough

table made by the students. The plan of having the students make the

furniture is still followed, but the number of pieces in a room has

been increased, and the workmanship has so improved that little fault

can be found with the articles now. One thing that I have always

insisted upon at Tuskegee is that everywhere there should be absolute

cleanliness. Over and over again the students were reminded in those

first years—and are reminded now—that people would excuse us for our

poverty, for our lack of comforts and conveniences, but that they would

not excuse us for dirt.

Another thing that has been insisted upon at the school is the use of

the tooth-brush. “The gospel of the tooth-brush,” as General Armstrong

used to call it, is part of our creed at Tuskegee. No student is

permitted to retain who does not keep and use a tooth-brush. Several

times, in recent years, students have come to us who brought with them

almost no other article except a tooth-brush. They had heard from the

lips of other students about our insisting upon the use of this, and

so, to make a good impression, they brought at least a tooth-brush with

them. I remember that one morning, not long ago, I went with the lady

principal on her usual morning tour of inspection of the girls’ rooms.

We found one room that contained three girls who had recently arrived

at the school. When I asked them if they had tooth-brushes, one of the

girls replied, pointing to a brush: “Yes, sir. That is our brush. We

bought it together, yesterday.” It did not take them long to learn a

different lesson.

It has been interesting to note the effect that the use of the

tooth-brush has had in bringing about a higher degree of civilization

among the students. With few exceptions, I have noticed that, if we can

get a student to the point where, when the first or second tooth-brush

disappears, he of his own motion buys another, I have not been

disappointed in the future of that individual. Absolute cleanliness of

the body has been insisted upon from the first. The students have been

taught to bathe as regularly as to take their meals. This lesson we

began teaching before we had anything in the shape of a bath-house.

Most of the students came from plantation districts, and often we had

to teach them how to sleep at night; that is, whether between the two

sheets—after we got to the point where we could provide them two

sheets—or under both of them. Naturally I found it difficult to teach

them to sleep between two sheets when we were able to supply but one.

The importance of the use of the night-gown received the same

attention.

For a long time one of the most difficult tasks was to teach the

students that all the buttons were to be kept on their clothes, and

that there must be no torn places or grease-spots. This lesson, I am

pleased to be able to say, has been so thoroughly learned and so

faithfully handed down from year to year by one set of students to

another that often at the present time, when the students march out of

the chapel in the evening and their dress is inspected, as it is every

night, not one button is found to be missing.