The American Missionary. Volume 52, No. 02, June, 1898

COLORED TEACHERS IN THE SOUTH

BY PROF. A. J. STEELE, MEMPHIS, TENN

A full generation has passed since the emancipation of the slaves in the United States and since the avenues of knowledge were thrown open to the colored people through the doors of the school house. During this time portions of three generations, parents, children and grand-children, literally "Children's children to the third generation," have, to a greater or less extent, availed themselves of the tuition of the schools.

Children's Children.

During the first decade, and in regularly decreasing ratio since, the most difficult problem has been how to provide competent teachers for the instruction of a race crowding and hungry for knowledge. Fortunately, perhaps, in the long view, the teaching of colored youth has never, from the first, in the South, been considered a popular calling, and so the work has in the main devolved upon the colored people themselves, a work to which, for years, from almost entire lack of opportunity for training, they could bring but the scantiest preparation and even less experience.

No more interesting or suggestive study could be undertaken than that, of tracing the progress of the colored teachers of a race so recently emancipated, as they have advanced in literary, mental and moral fitness for a work thrust upon them by the exigencies of the situation.

Reference to the tables of statistics compiled by the Commissioner of Education for 1895-6 shows how well the race is meeting the demand for teachers in its schools, everywhere in the South kept separate from the public schools for white children. For the year above mentioned there were employed 26,499 colored teachers, who had under their care 1,429,713 pupils. For the same year there were in the various Normal Schools for colored people 4,672 students, 966 of whom were graduated; 826 were graduated from high schools and 161 from college courses, making in all 1,953 graduates from courses of study considered sufficient in extent to fit more or less thoroughly for the work of teaching; not to mention the even greater numbers who engage in teaching before having completed any higher course of training. So much as to mere numbers. Now, in general, as to the advancement being made by schools of this class. Without exception, the reports of school officers give credit for constantly increasing excellency and proficiency of both schools and teachers, and certain it is, that the public appreciation and esteem is shown by an increasing patronage and a more substantial provision for the improvement and support of the schools.

In particular, while it is not always safe to draw sweeping conclusions from facts gathered within a limited area of observation, it may yet be confidently asserted, that what is true of the schools and teachers of any fairly representative city or community in the South, is likely to be measurably true wherever similar conditions and opportunities prevail. My own direct experience and observation have had to do with the colored schools and teachers of a single city of sixty to eighty thousand people, nearly one-half colored, and the counties and towns adjacent. These I have followed very closely for over twenty-five years. I can testify positively that there has been a steady raising of the standards of qualifications and proficiency with regard both to intellectual and moral attainments among the teachers of colored schools, and in this I shall be borne out by the testimony of superintendents and school officers, as well as by all observing people of these communities. In many cases teachers and schools of this class have attained an enviable reputation and are often mentioned as models of excellence in many ways.

The process of growth here, as elsewhere, has been one of the "survival of the fittest," the ill-trained, inefficient teachers gradually giving place to the better qualified, more capable class. The initial influence in this line of succession dates back but little more than thirty years, to the founding of "mission" schools at centres of influence throughout the South; "a handful of corn on the top of the mountain" from which has come the wide-spreading harvests of the present. It is a statement well within the facts that nine out of ten of the colored schools of all grades in the South are taught by those who had their training in these mission schools, or else by teachers who owe their education to those of their own race who were so trained. No more powerful or far-reaching influence was ever set in operation than that which had its origin in the cabin where taught the first humble missionary among the people freed by the war. The whole power and potency of all that has followed was represented in that first despised and humble effort.

From that day to this seems a long call. The passage has been made almost unobserved, like the coming of the Kingdom of Heaven. It now not unfrequently happens that a colored public school stands accredited in a community with excellencies to distinguish it as an example worthy of imitation. Such is the colored high school in the city of my direct observation, in the two respects of self-control and government of its pupils, and in its movement toward a collection of miscellaneous books for a school library—excellencies not ascribed, so far as I know, in anything like the same measure to any other public school. It is perhaps needless to add that the principal of this school, as well as the teachers of a large percentage of the other best schools of the city and county, have had their training in one of the "mission" normal schools above mentioned.

To remove or weaken these centres of power would be to strike the most deadly blow at the education of the colored people. It would be the removal of so many nerve centres out from which still flow the stimuli needful to keep in active operation and growing power the entire system.

John F. Slater and Daniel Hand and a hundred other individual benefactors have seen this vital fact and have done what they could to build up and strengthen such influences. The church will make a great mistake if it ignores this fact or relaxes its efforts in the support of the institutions so wisely planned and so greatly efficient for good in the past.

NOTES

Closing Exercises At Le Moyne.—Le Moyne Normal Institute, Memphis, Tennessee, closed on the 2nd of June. Not less than 2,500 people crowded the auditorium at the closing exercises. The large attendance betokens the influence of the school in the community and the esteem in which it is held.

Students Enlisting.—Many of the students of our colleges and Normal Schools have enlisted in the service of their country. From Talladega College, Alabama, we receive the following: "We send a score of our choice young men off to the army to-morrow." From Lincoln School, Meridian, Miss., the Principal writes: "One young man is away in the interests of his company, of which he is Captain. He wrote, 'This is the time to show of what clay we are made, and I trust each student of Lincoln School will prove himself loyal to his country.' Four of the officers of his company are graduates of Lincoln School."

A SKETCH OF THE CAREER OF A STRAIGHT UNIVERSITY GRADUATE

BY REV. GEORGE W. HENDERSON, D.D

Among the young colored men who heard the call of God for the uplifting of their race was Mr. H–, whose home was in Arkansas. From the first, with him Christian faith meant Christian service, and he at once became active in church and Sunday-school. Nature was generous to him in the saving gift of common sense, and he was not long in perceiving the incompetency of the ministers to whom the people at that time looked for religious instruction and leadership.

A fortunate providence brought him into contact with a teacher from Straight University. The information she gave him of this institution opened the way to execute the purpose which he had been cherishing for some time, to fit himself to become a missionary to his people in his own home. The loss of a leg at this time, through the carelessness of another, instead of discouraging, strengthened his resolution. Penniless, like Booker Washington, he set out for this missionary seat of learning, his only resource, prayer, his only support, hope and faith.

One bright morning, this brave Arkansas lad presented himself at Straight University. Hobbling up the walk to the main building, and assuming an air of confidence quite in contrast to his internal emotions, he hailed a passing student in the familiar vocabulary of the plantation—"Say, Sonny, is the Boss in?" The "Boss" was in, and on meeting this new candidate for academical honors, quite took away his breath by addressing him as "Mr." Such courtesy was a surprise and a revelation to him. That he was somebody in the eyes of heaven was the gracious revelation of his Christian faith; it now for the first time dawned upon him that the recognition of his manhood was possible on earth.

Eight years of earnest study followed, years full of happiness, because they were years of progress, of growing religious experience, of expanding intellectual and spiritual vision. The dream of his uncared for boyhood was in process of realization. He enjoyed the confidence of teachers and scholars alike, for he was the soul of honor, and his word was the word of truth. His vacations were spent in teaching in the common schools of Louisiana. Success always crowned his efforts; his schools were usually full to overflowing. He taught in the Sunday-schools and made himself useful in every form of Christian service. On one occasion the school house was destroyed by fire, but nothing daunted, the enthusiastic teacher rallied the neighbors, and with them and the scholars he went into the woods, chopped down the trees, hewed the logs, and in a few days replaced the old building with a better, and the school went on more successfully than ever.

And so on till the end of his life, difficulties were faced bravely and successfully. With the assistance of friends, a cork leg took the place of the pole which he had lashed to the stump of his lost limb. After completing the normal course, he took the usual course in theology.

On Vermillion Bay, not far from the Gulf Coast, and at the terminus of a branch of the Southern Pacific Railroad, about twenty miles from Bayou Teche, the stream that keeps green and beautiful the year round that section of Louisiana which was first settled by the exiled Acadians and made famous in Longfellow's "Evangeline," is a thriving village. In the patois of the country the people are called "Cajians," a corruption of Acadians. As a rule, they are non-progressive and ignorant. But the spirit of modern progress, brought in on the railroad, is putting new life into old customs.

In this village just waking into its new life, a humble man of faith, in the year 1885, organized a Congregational church. The organizer of this new church, having only a limited education, soon found himself at the end of his resources. The people were still hungry and still unfed. One plants, another waters. Unknown to the people, and in his own good way and time, God was preparing to answer their prayer for a shepherd who could lead them into the green pastures and by the side of quiet waters.

The Arkansas lad, proud of the possession of his normal and theological diplomas, and now ready for service, was sent by the A. M. A. to this prosperous village in the beautiful Teche country. When Mr. H. arrived in the fading twilight of a June evening, and looked over the situation—a rude, unfinished edifice, a scattered congregation, and a membership that had diminished almost to the vanishing point—for the first time he began to have serious doubts whether after all he had not mistaken his calling. After much searching, only ten or twelve discouraged members could be found. Neither party was unduly impressed with the other. His doubt that he could do anything for the church was probably fully respected by the members as they looked him over and took his measure. The thoughts that came to him that night as he lay upon his restless and dreamless pillow, were decidedly Jonah-like. Nor were the means lacking to follow the example of that ancient prophet. Ships lay at anchor in Vermillion Bay ready to carry him out into the gulf and the great sea beyond. The question what he should eat and drink, and wherewithal he should be clothed, seemed to justify his flight. He was now learning that missionary service is a fine thing to talk about in prayer meetings and missionary gatherings, but that the reality often possesses a stern and forbidding countenance. Nor was much reflection needed to show him that though the ships might take him away from the place of duty, they could not take him away from duty itself; that it were better to bear poverty and privation than to bear a guilty conscience.

It is always darkest before day. In a few weeks an ordaining council has assembled, his old pastor and theological teacher being among the number. The harvest was ripe, waiting for the reapers to put in the sickle, and what began as ecclesiastical council ended in a gracious revival. The Arkansas lad was now a minister; the dream of his boyhood was rapidly fulfilling.

Three years and a half passed. The field which at first seemed so barren of promises had proved to be rich in opportunities. The Louisiana Congregational Association holds its annual meeting with him. His old pastor sends three other teachers. One of them, the wife of "the Boss," returns with the other members of the ordaining council to see what progress has been made.

Yes, this must be the place; for the railroad stops here, and yonder is Vermillion Bay, and the anchored ships. This, too, must be the young pastor; his limp betrays his identity, but the face, whose pure native hue three years ago was darkened by the cloud of doubt is now wreathed in smiles. Here, too, is the church, the same, yet not the same; its former disfigured and unwashed face now shines in a new coat of paint; the unfinished and leaky bell-tower has been repaired and beautified; and those old benches, apparently designed for those condemned to do penance, have been replaced by comfortable modern seats, so that the worshipper's attention is no longer diverted from the sermon by the painful consciousness of his physical sufferings.

But these changes, excellent in themselves, are by no means the highest test of these years of faithful and consecrated service. The twelve members with whom the new pastor began, have been nearly sextupled; the Sunday-school has been organized, enlarged and developed; a flourishing Christian Endeavor Society started; and right conceptions of practical righteousness enforced. The pastor's conception of his ministry includes a practical interest in education, and since his advent an increasing stream of young people has been flowing to Straight University. Thrifty himself, his contagious enthusiasm has not only affected his own flock, but the community generally, filling them with ambition to save their humble earnings, and become owners of their own homes, and send their children to school.

The esteem in which Mr. H. is held by the best white people of the town was well illustrated at the recent meeting of the State Association. They not only crowded into the church, filling every available space for standing, but stood outside at the windows for hours in earnest attention, in the chilly night air. So great had their interest become that the last night of the Association, one white man offered the pastor any price for a reserved seat for himself and lady friends, and the town representative wrote him a polite note asking for a seat for himself and family, and the next day the white people offered to procure the courthouse, that we might have a larger place for our meeting.

Newspapers and magazines are teeming, nowadays, with articles claiming that our people's supreme need is industrially trained men to indicate the road to prosperity. We gladly concede that there is need enough and room enough for such men, but we part company with these advocates when they intimate that we have too many liberally educated men. The value of such well educated men may be seen in the example of Mr. H., who is only one of many young men who have gone forth from Straight University and other A. M. A. institutions.

ITEMS

Penalty for Lynching.—The Legislature of Ohio has passed the Anti-Lynching amendment which makes it possible for the heirs of a person lynched to sue the county in which the crime is committed for from $500 to $5,000. This is the right way to do. Every state in the Union ought to be made to pay either one of these amounts. Why not let us agitate on these lines. The government can never find the offenders, but under this law they can find the county.—The Conservator of Chicago.

The Black Millionaire on His Way.—Mr. T. Thomas Fortune, Editor of the New York Age, one of the bright papers published by colored men, stated at a recent meeting that the race problem, instead of being solved in the South, is being intensified by the present condition of things. He deplored the fact of the black man being excluded by the labor unions from earning an honest living, and, while the poor white people are employed in mills and factories of the cities, the black man is left to till the soil. He is barred out from manual labor and in many cases must either "starve or steal." This despised individual who "befo' de war," performed all the labor, is now hardly able to earn a living. Yet, for all that, Mr. Fortune is confident that in the future a "monstrosity" is coming. "I may not live to see him, but the black millionaire is on his way."

The Triumphant Death of a Christian Indian.—"It was my privilege to see her very frequently in these last days and to be with the family circle when she died. Whenever I intimated that my presence seemed like an intrusion, poor Uncle Elias always said, 'No, I like to have you here; it strengthens me.' And when I was not there, he sent to have me come. It was just the sympathy he felt. He was sure of that, for I loved her, too. Through it all Elias had been lovely, a constant wonder to me in the strength of his beautiful faith which never faltered for a moment. Again and again in those last hours, his voice led in prayer as we stood around her bedside, and it seemed the spontaneous overflow of his soul. And in the accompanying hymn each time, he also led. The last one which he gave out, only a few minutes before the faint breathing ceased, was 'Praise God—', the doxology, (as it is in the Dakota, of course). His faith triumphed over his sorrow for he knew she was going home to God. Only in that last prayer from his breaking heart, his voice trembled as he pleaded that God would help him. Surely He has helped him wonderfully."

Family Affection Among Indians.—I am impressed with the great degree of family affection in some cases. I know one young girl who would profit much by going for several years to Santee. Her parents are past middle life, and have buried many sons, and Millie is their only daughter, so naturally they cling most tenderly to her, and it seems to me most a necessity that the sacrifice should be made, and yet—I wish it could be different.

Salt Lake City, Utah, from Mrs. A. E. R. Jones, Missionary to the Chinese.—Since writing you last month I am happy to say that two of our pupils have entered Salt Lake College as students. They have joined the preparatory classes in arithmetic and grammar. It is a great step for them. We help them in our evening school in the lessons for the next day.

But this encouragement is little in comparison with the great blessing that has come to us. By God's grace we trust three persons have been led to Himself. These desire to be baptized next Sunday. It is no hasty act, but has been postponed for some time rather than to make haste. We believe that their conversions are of the Lord and are true and genuine.

The Indians

NEW TYPE OF INDIAN UPRISING

REV. GEORGE W. REED, FORT YATES, N. D

The missionaries' correspondence begins to bring inquiries concerning an Indian uprising. With the war news are mingled expressions of fear that the Indians will be only too ready to seize upon the opportunity to avenge fancied wrongs. Most of the soldiers have been withdrawn from the frontier posts. In regard to the Sioux, those who know them best have no fear. They recognize the progress made by them in the last ten years. Too many of them have become followers of the Prince of Peace. These ten years of splendid school training have given us a new type of young men and women, who have more of home love and who are beginning to think for themselves. The majority are no longer roused to action by the harangue of a petty chief. The day of the chief is rapidly passing away. The thinker and not the talker is becoming the leader.

There must be convincing proof of a good cause and of beneficial results before another Indian war is undertaken under the most favorable circumstances. In territory there is nothing to be gained. They cling tenaciously to what they have, but they are not grasping for more, for they realize that their vast hunting grounds have been lost to them forever. The young men and women in going half across the continent to Carlisle and Hampton, being educated there and in summer homes in the East, come back impressed with the largeness of the country, the prosperity and vast numerical superiority of the people. They care not to war against so strong a foe.

There is an uprising of the Indians, however, which is being too slowly recognized. They are slowly but surely rising above superstition and ignorance, yes, even above indolence. The old roving, restless, tramp-like spirit has not wholly disappeared. Some are still living only a stomach level life, with apparently no thought of head or heart. The old Indian life is self-centered, hence selfish, ever gathering to itself, never giving out, hence stagnant, non-progressive.

Religion has given the life a new center and indefinite breadth. The Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man are truths which once accepted must change the whole life, and he who teaches them to an Indian becomes a friend and not an enemy, and becomes loved for what he brings and not hated for what he has taken away. The Indian and the white man have gone into partnership in building churches. The Indian has been giving liberally to missions outside of his own little land.

The progress in educational work has been marked in the last decade. Today every healthy boy and girl over six years of age is supposed to be in school. More than half of these are for ten months of every year in a boarding school, well cared for, well fed, well instructed. To me one of the greatest evidences of progress is that so many of them uncomplainingly—some eagerly—part with their young children during these many months. The large majority of the parents have never attended school a day in their lives, yet they make this large sacrifice for the child's good. Ten years ago there was a dance house in nearly every village, and the senseless gyrations were in progress every week. The larger portion of the two weeks' rations was given to the dancer's feast, and the half fed children were the sufferers. Today there is not a dance house for the whole 90 miles along Grand River.

Ten years ago the first Indian returning with his bi-weekly rations would invite his neighbors as they came home to help him eat in one day, often in one meal, all this food. For the remainder of the two weeks the family would be driven to live upon other feasts, or to the fields for the wild turnip, the few berries or the plum. If four or more feasts were called daily, the feasts gave way to famine before the coming ration day. Often a week of feasting, then a week of famine, became the rule. This state of things is becoming more and more a thing of the past. Hospitality is as marked, but is not carried to starvation extremes. Recently passing some trees in which twelve or more years ago seven bodies were placed, and contrasting this with the last funeral I attended, impressed upon me progress in another line.

Ten years ago last Jan. 12, a day made memorable by the great blizzard which swept over our land with death and destruction, in the early morning, long before daylight, I was aroused from slumber by a knock at the door of our little log house on Oak Creek. One stops to think twice before he jumps out of a warm bed when the temperature is out of sight below zero in the room, the fire has gone out and a blizzard is howling outside. The rapping at the door was continued till I opened it. A rope was placed in my hand in which were two knots. They showed the length and width of a coffin the man wished to make, and for which he wanted lumber. I had only an old packing-case to give him. At daylight, breakfastless, I went over to the tent and helped him make a coffin from the case, a soap box and a small stable door. It was a crude and weak affair. Ignorant of the language, I could only read words of comfort from the Word of God and try to sing two Indian hymns. Only a few of us stood about the grave, which the husband and myself had dug.

In the coffin had been placed dry crusts of bread, waste pieces of meat, a rusty knife, fork and spoon. In the grave were first placed some thick comfortables and a filthy pillow, on which the coffin, warmly wrapped, was placed. Then over the mouth of the grave was laid the broken tent poles, the tent covering folded and laid over, then a great mound of earth. At the grave everything the family had was given away. And this was only ten years ago. But how great an improvement on the custom of laying the body on the top of a high hill, or in the branches of a tree, or even leaving the top of the coffin even with the surface of the ground, which has been done away with only in the last twelve years.

I have described one of the first funerals in the Indian country that I remember. How different the funeral of one of our most faithful women, Mrs. Mary Gilbert, who was buried from our crowded Grand River Chapel April 17th. She had been a great sufferer for years, yet patiently, uncomplainingly, bearing it all. Though in her last sickness there was no hope of recovery, the most popular medicine man was not sent for. The suffering woman was not put out in a tent to die. Gratefully did she receive the tender nursing of the white lady missionary and the skillful school physician. Tenderly was she cared for to the last in a comfortable bed, in a clean, tidy house. The body was not hurried with unseemly haste to the burial. Through the darkness of night a messenger rode 30 miles to have the agency carpenter make a coffin, neatly cover it with black cloth and white metal trimmings. Through the darkness of another night was it carried back. The one service of the Sabbath day was the funeral service. Crowds gathered at the house at an early hour. The long procession of wagons was nearly two hours in reaching the chapel. Beautiful and simple was the service, and the closing words of the sorrowing husband will long be remembered, as he spoke of his wife's noble work and trusting faith in the Master. Through the parted lines of the 80 school children was borne the casket, followed by the parents of these children and others to the number of over 200, most of whom in the last eight years have found Christ as an ever-present Saviour, and have learned to know Him as "the resurrection and the life." In this belief they gathered about this grave, and from it they went to their homes to live re-consecrated lives.