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At
that time salt-mining was the great industry in that part of West Virginia,
and the little town of Malden was right in the midst of the salt-furnaces.
My stepfather had already secured a job at a salt-furnace, and he had also
secured a little cabin for us to live in. Our new house was no better than
the one we had left on the old plantation in Virginia. In fact, in one
respect it was worse. Notwithstanding the poor condition of our plantation
cabin, we were at all times sure of pure air. Our new home was in the midst
of a cluster of cabins crowded closely together, and as there were no
sanitary regulations, the filth about the cabins was often intolerable. Some
of our neighbours were coloured people, and some were the poorest and most
ignorant and degraded white people. It was a motley mixture. Drinking,
gambling, quarrels, fights, and shockingly immoral practices were frequent.
All who lived in the little town were in one way or another connected with
the salt business. Though I was a mere child, my stepfather put me and my
brother at work in one of the furnaces. Often I began work as early as four
o'clock in the morning.
The
first thing I ever learned in the way of book knowledge was while working in
this salt-furnace. Each salt-packer had his barrels marked with a certain
number. The number allotted to my stepfather was "18." At the
close of the day's work the boss of the packers would come around and put
"18" on each of our barrels, and I soon learned to recognize that
figure wherever I saw it, and after a while got to the point where I could
make that figure, though I knew nothing about any other figures or letters.
From
the time that I can remember having any thoughts about anything, I recall
that I had an intense longing to learn to read. I determined, when quite a
small child, that, if I accomplished nothing else in life, I would in some
way get enough education to enable me to read common books and newspapers.
Soon after we got settled in some manner in our new cabin in West Virginia,
I induced my mother to get hold of a book for me. How or where she got it I
do not know, but in some way she procured an old copy of Webster's
"blue-back" spelling-book, which contained the alphabet, followed
by such meaningless words as "ab," "ba," "ca,"
"da." I began at once to devour this book, and I think that it was
the first one I ever had in my hands. I had learned from somebody that the
way to begin to read was to learn the alphabet, so I tried in all the ways I
could think of to learn it,--all of course without a teacher, for I could
find no one to teach me. At that time there was not a single member of my
race anywhere near us who could read, and I was too timid to approach any of
the white people. In some way, within a few weeks, I mastered the greater
portion of the alphabet. In all my efforts to learn to read my mother shared
fully my ambition, and sympathized with me and aided me in every way that
she could. Though she was totally ignorant, she had high ambitions for her
children, and a large fund of good, hard, common sense, which seemed to
enable her to meet and master every situation. If I have done anything in
life worth attention, I feel sure that I inherited the disposition from my
mother.
In
the midst of my struggles and longing for an education, a young coloured boy
who had learned to read in the state of Ohio came to Malden. As soon as the
coloured people found out that he could read, a newspaper was secured, and
at the close of nearly every day's work this young man would be surrounded
by a group of men and women who were anxious to hear him read the news
contained in the papers. How I used to envy this man! He seemed to me to be
the one young man in all the world who ought to be satisfied with his
attainments.
About
this time the question of having some kind of a school opened for the
coloured children in the village began to be discussed by members of the
race. As it would be the first school for Negro children that had ever been
opened in that part of Virginia, it was, of course, to be a great event, and
the discussion excited the wildest interest. The most perplexing question
was where to find a teacher. The young man from Ohio who had learned to read
the papers was considered, but his age was against him. In the midst of the
discussion about a teacher, another young coloured man from Ohio, who had
been a soldier, in some way found his way into town. It was soon learned
that he possessed considerable education, and he was engaged by the coloured
people to teach their first school. As yet no free schools had been started
for coloured people in that section, hence each family agreed to pay a
certain amount per month, with the understanding that the teacher was to
"board 'round"--that is, spend a day with each family. This was
not bad for the teacher, for each family tried to provide the very best on
the day the teacher was to be its guest. I recall that I looked forward with
an anxious appetite to the "teacher's day" at our little cabin.
This
experience of a whole race beginning to go to school for the first time,
presents one of the most interesting studies that has ever occurred in
connection with the development of any race. Few people who were not right
in the midst of the scenes can form any exact idea of the intense desire
which the people of my race showed for an education. As I have stated, it
was a whole race trying to go to school. Few were too young, and none too
old, to make the attempt to learn. As fast as any kind of teachers could be
secured, not only were day-schools filled, but night-schools as well. The
great ambition of the older people was to try to learn to read the Bible
before they died. With this end in view men and women who were fifty or
seventy-five years old would often be found in the night-school. Some
day-schools were formed soon after freedom, but the principal book studied
in the Sunday-school was the spelling-book. Day-school, night-school,
Sunday-school, were always crowded, and often many had to be turned away for
want of room.
The
opening of the school in the Kanawha Valley, however, brought to me one of
the keenest disappointments that I ever experienced. I had been working in a
salt-furnace for several months, and my stepfather had discovered that I had
a financial value, and so, when the school opened, he decided that he could
not spare me from my work. This decision seemed to cloud my every ambition.
The disappointment was made all the more severe by reason of the fact that
my place of work was where I could see the happy children passing to and
from school mornings and afternoons. Despite this disappointment, however, I
determined that I would learn something, anyway. I applied myself with
greater earnestness than ever to the mastering of what was in the
"blue-back" speller.
My
mother sympathized with me in my disappointment, and sought to comfort me in
all the ways she could, and to help me find a way to learn. After a while I
succeeded in making arrangements with the teacher to give me some lessons at
night, after the day's work was done. These night lessons were so welcome
that I think I learned more at night than the other children did during the
day. My own experiences in the night-school gave me faith in the
night-school idea, with which, in after years, I had to do both at Hampton
and Tuskegee. But my boyish heart was still set upon going to the
day-school, and I let no opportunity slip to push my case. Finally I won,
and was permitted to go to the school in the day for a few months, with the
understanding that I was to rise early in the morning and work in the
furnace till nine o'clock, and return immediately after school closed in the
afternoon for at least two more hours of work.
The
schoolhouse was some distance from the furnace, and as I had to work till
nine o'clock, and the school opened at nine, I found myself in a difficulty.
School would always be begun before I reached it, and sometimes my class had
recited. To get around this difficulty I yielded to a temptation for which
most people, I suppose, will condemn me; but since it is a fact, I might as
well state it. I have great faith in the power and influence of facts. It is
seldom that anything is permanently gained by holding back a fact. There was
a large clock in a little office in the furnace. This clock, of course, all
the hundred or more workmen depended upon to regulate their hours of
beginning and ending the day's work. I got the idea that the way for me to
reach school on time was to move the clock hands from half-past eight up to
the nine o'clock mark. This I found myself doing morning after morning, till
the furnace "boss" discovered that something was wrong, and locked
the clock in a case. I did not mean to inconvenience anybody. I simply meant
to reach that schoolhouse in time.
When,
however, I found myself at the school for the first time, I also found
myself confronted with two other difficulties. In the first place, I found
that all the other children wore hats or caps on their heads, and I had
neither hat nor cap. In fact, I do not remember that up to the time of going
to school I had ever worn any kind of covering upon my head, nor do I recall
that either I or anybody else had even thought anything about the need of
covering for my head. But, of course, when I saw how all the other boys were
dressed, I began to feel quite uncomfortable. As usual, I put the case
before my mother, and she explained to me that she had no money with which
to buy a "store hat," which was a rather new institution at that
time among the members of my race and was considered quite the thing for
young and old to own, but that she would find a way to help me out of the
difficulty. She accordingly got two pieces of "homespun" (jeans)
and sewed them together, and I was soon the proud possessor of my first cap.
The
lesson that my mother taught me in this has always remained with me, and I
have tried as best as I could to teach it to others. I have always felt
proud, whenever I think of the incident, that my mother had strength of
character enough not to be led into the temptation of seeming to be that
which she was not--of trying to impress my schoolmates and others with the
fact that she was able to buy me a "store hat" when she was not. I
have always felt proud that she refused to go into debt for that which she
did not have the money to pay for. Since that time I have owned many kinds
of caps and hats, but never one of which I have felt so proud as of the cap
made of the two pieces of cloth sewed together by my mother. I have noted
the fact, but without satisfaction, I need not add, that several of the boys
who began their careers with "store hats" and who were my
schoolmates and used to join in the sport that was made of me because I had
only a "homespun" cap, have ended their careers in the
penitentiary, while others are not able now to buy any kind of hat.
My
second difficulty was with regard to my name, or rather A name. From the
time when I could remember anything, I had been called simply
"Booker." Before going to school it had never occurred to me that
it was needful or appropriate to have an additional name. When I heard the
schoolroll called, I noticed that all of the children had at least two
names, and some of them indulged in what seemed to me the extravagance of
having three. I was in deep perplexity, because I knew that the teacher
would demand of me at least two names, and I had only one. By the time the
occasion came for the enrolling of my name, an idea occurred to me which I
thought would make me equal to the situation; and so, when the teacher asked
me what my full name was, I calmly told him "Booker Washington,"
as if I had been called by that name all my life; and by that name I have
since been known. Later in my life I found that my mother had given me the
name of "Booker Taliaferro" soon after I was born, but in some way
that part of my name seemed to disappear and for a long while was forgotten,
but as soon as I found out about it I revived it, and made my full name
"Booker Taliaferro Washington." I think there are not many men in
our country who have had the privilege of naming themselves in the way that
I have.
More
than once I have tried to picture myself in the position of a boy or man
with an honoured and distinguished ancestry which I could trace back through
a period of hundreds of years, and who had not only inherited a name, but
fortune and a proud family homestead; and yet I have sometimes had the
feeling that if I had inherited these, and had been a member of a more
popular race, I should have been inclined to yield to the temptation of
depending upon my ancestry and my colour to do that for me which I should do
for myself. Years ago I resolved that because I had no ancestry myself I
would leave a record of which my children would be proud, and which might
encourage them to still higher effort.
The
world should not pass judgment upon the Negro, and especially the Negro
youth, too quickly or too harshly. The Negro boy has obstacles,
discouragements, and temptations to battle with that are little know to
those not situated as he is. When a white boy undertakes a task, it is taken
for granted that he will succeed. On the other hand, people are usually
surprised if the Negro boy does not fail. In a word, the Negro youth starts
out with the presumption against him.
The
influence of ancestry, however, is important in helping forward any
individual or race, if too much reliance is not placed upon it. Those who
constantly direct attention to the Negro youth's moral weaknesses, and
compare his advancement with that of white youths, do not consider the
influence of the memories which cling about the old family homesteads. I
have no idea, as I have stated elsewhere, who my grandmother was. I have, or
have had, uncles and aunts and cousins, but I have no knowledge as to where
most of them are. My case will illustrate that of hundreds of thousands of
black people in every part of our country. The very fact that the white boy
is conscious that, if he fails in life, he will disgrace the whole family
record, extending back through many generations, is of tremendous value in
helping him to resist temptations. The fact that the individual has behind
and surrounding him proud family history and connection serves as a stimulus
to help him to overcome obstacles when striving for success.
The
time that I was permitted to attend school during the day was short, and my
attendance was irregular. It was not long before I had to stop attending
day-school altogether, and devote all of my time again to work. I resorted
to the night-school again. In fact, the greater part of the education I
secured in my boyhood was gathered through the night-school after my day's
work was done. I had difficulty often in securing a satisfactory teacher.
Sometimes, after I had secured some one to teach me at night, I would find,
much to my disappointment, that the teacher knew but little more than I did.
Often I would have to walk several miles at night in order to recite my
night-school lessons. There was never a time in my youth, no matter how dark
and discouraging the days might be, when one resolve did not continually
remain with me, and that was a determination to secure an education at any
cost.
Soon
after we moved to West Virginia, my mother adopted into our family,
notwithstanding our poverty, an orphan boy, to whom afterward we gave the
name of James B. Washington. He has ever since remained a member of the
family.
After
I had worked in the salt-furnace for some time, work was secured for me in a
coal-mine which was operated mainly for the purpose of securing fuel for the
salt-furnace. Work in the coal-mine I always dreaded. One reason for this
was that any one who worked in a coal-mine was always unclean, at least
while at work, and it was a very hard job to get one's skin clean after the
day's work was over. Then it was fully a mile from the opening of the
coal-mine to the face of the coal, and all, of course, was in the blackest
darkness. I do not believe that one ever experiences anywhere else such
darkness as he does in a coal-mine. The mine was divided into a large number
of different "rooms" or departments, and, as I never was able to
learn the location of all these "rooms," I many times found myself
lost in the mine. To add to the horror of being lost, sometimes my light
would go out, and then, if I did not happen to have a match, I would wander
about in the darkness until by chance I found some one to give me a light.
The work was not only hard, but it was dangerous. There was always the
danger of being blown to pieces by a premature explosion of powder, or of
being crushed by falling slate. Accidents from one or the other of these
causes were frequently occurring, and this kept me in constant fear. Many
children of the tenderest years were compelled then, as is now true I fear,
in most coal-mining districts, to spend a large part of their lives in these
coal-mines, with little opportunity to get an education; and, what is worse,
I have often noted that, as a rule, young boys who begin life in a coal-mine
are often physically and mentally dwarfed. They soon lose ambition to do
anything else than to continue as a coal-miner.
In
those days, and later as a young man, I used to try to picture in my
imagination the feelings and ambitions of a white boy with absolutely no
limit placed upon his aspirations and activities. I used to envy the white
boy who had no obstacles placed in the way of his becoming a Congressman,
Governor, Bishop, or President by reason of the accident of his birth or
race. I used to picture the way that I would act under such circumstances;
how I would begin at the bottom and keep rising until I reached the highest
round of success.
In
later years, I confess that I do not envy the white boy as I once did. I
have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that
one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while
trying to succeed. Looked at from this standpoint, I almost reached the
conclusion that often the Negro boy's birth and connection with an unpopular
race is an advantage, so far as real life is concerned. With few exceptions,
the Negro youth must work harder and must perform his tasks even better than
a white youth in order to secure recognition. But out of the hard and
unusual struggle through which he is compelled to pass, he gets a strength,
a confidence, that one misses whose pathway is comparatively smooth by
reason of birth and race.
From
any point of view, I had rather be what I am, a member of the Negro race,
than be able to claim membership with the most favoured of any other race. I
have always been made sad when I have heard members of any race claiming
rights or privileges, or certain badges of distinction, on the ground simply
that they were members of this or that race, regardless of their own
individual worth or attainments. I have been made to feel sad for such
persons because I am conscious of the fact that mere connection with what is
known as a superior race will not permanently carry an individual forward
unless he has individual worth, and mere connection with what is regarded as
an inferior race will not finally hold an individual back if he possesses
intrinsic, individual merit. Every persecuted individual and race should get
much consolation out of the great human law, which is universal and eternal,
that merit, no matter under what skin found, is, in the long run, recognized
and rewarded. This I have said here, not to call attention to myself as an
individual, but to the race to which I am proud to belong.
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