“There can be no divided democracy, no class government, no half-free country under the constitution. Therefore, there can be no discrimination, no segregation, no separation of some citizens from the rights that belong to all…We are on our way. But these are frontiers that we must conquer…We must gain full equality in education…in the franchise…in economic opportunity, and full equality in the abundance of life.”
– Mary McLeod Bethune, writing in the Chicago Defender, in defense of the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling in Brown v. Board of Education (1954) that segregation of public schools was unconstitutional.
The only female figure among the Emancipators statuary group, Mary McLeod Bethune (1875-1955, née McLeod) was an American educator, philanthropist, humanitarian, and civil rights activist. Yet, despite her many achievements, which earned her unofficial titles such as “First Lady of Negro America” and the “Female Booker T. Washington,” Mrs. Bethune is less well known than male civil rights activists. In my own case, much of what I know about Bethune has come from the moving 1959 film about her life, called “The Crowning Experience,” starring mezzo-soprano Muriel Smith as the educator-activist.
Also facing eastward from her niche like the figure of Martin Luther King, the elegant Bethune statue exudes the spirit of self-assurance and audacious courage, which African American author Alice Walker termed “womanist.” As if signifying the pledge she makes to her country, as well as to her fellow African Americans, Mary places her right hand over her heart, while in her left she firmly holds a rolled document, perhaps the U.S. Constitution, whose words of the 14th Amendment had to be debated and ultimately upheld in the Brown versus Board of Education Decision of 1954 to ensure that all children would receive an education that was neither separate nor unequal.
By any measure, Mary McLeod Bethune would not have been expected to succeed in life. Born near the town of Mayesville, South Carolina, in a ramshackle log cabin on a rice and cotton farm, she was the fifteenth of seventeen children, who, like her parents Sam and Patsy, had been born into slavery.
Education for African American children during Mary Bethune’s early years was either non-existent or severely limited, and in many instances, it was illegal for African Americans to be educated, or to even learn to read. Undeterred, Mary was determined to break through such obstacles, having recognized that the only thing separating the races was the ability to read and write.
After attending Trinity Mission School, Mayesville’s Presbyterian Board of Missions of Freedmen’s one-room schoolhouse for Black students, she moved on to Scotia Seminary (now Barber-Scotia College), through the help of teacher and mentor Emma Wilson, who had also attended the school. When Bethune’s long-held ambition to become a missionary in Africa was thwarted, she decided to make a career in education, which was the prime goal among African Americans.
Mary’s journey as an educator took greater shape when she taught briefly at her former elementary school in Sumter County, then later when she teamed up with Lucy Craft Laney, the daughter of former slaves, who founded Haines Normal and Industrial Institute. Laney ran the school with Christian missionary zeal, placing emphasis on building character and practical education for girls. But she also accepted boys who showed up and displayed an eagerness to learn. Laney’s deep commitment to educating Black boys and girls left a deep impression on Bethune, who remarked on her former mentor’s fearlessness and inexhaustible energy; her power to command respect and admiration from the students was what the fledgling teacher wanted to have for herself.
In October 1904, Bethune rented a small house for $11.00 per month, which she furnished with benches and desks made from discarded crates and other items acquired through charity. With $1.50 she started the Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School for Negro Girls, initially attended by six students – five girls and her son Albert. Located in Daytona, Florida, the school bordered a dump; but gradually, through money raised by selling lots of sweet potato pies, ice cream, and fried fish to work crews, Bethune, students’ parents, and church members helped the school to survive and grow. The students also made ink for pens from elderberry juice and pencils from burned wood. The curriculum was rigorous: The day began at 5:30 a.m. (and ended at 9 p.m.) for Bible study; home economics and industrial skills, such as dressmaking, millinery, cooking, and other crafts to cultivate self-sufficiency as women. To these Bethune added science and business, math, English, and foreign languages. Deep-pocketed contributors included John D. Rockefeller ($62,000), and friendships with Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt were added to the growing list of prominent donors. These and others were making Bethune’s “crowning achievement” a reality.
In 1923, the Daytona Training School merged with the Cookman Institute for Boys of Jacksonville, Florida, becoming the Daytona Cookman Collegiate Institute, and became affiliated with the Board of Education of the Methodist Church. From 1931 until 1941, Bethune served as the school’s president. In 1941, a four-year degree program was developed in liberal arts and teacher training, and the name was changed to the Bethune-Cookman College. In 2007, the Board of Trustees approved a name change to Bethune-Cookman University, offering 39 bachelor’s degrees and six master’s degrees.
Despite the various challenges she faced, Bethune wrote later in her life, it was her deep “faith in a loving God, faith in myself, and a desire to serve,” that kept her going. As an African American and former educator, I have been inspired by Mrs. Bethune’s commitment to the education of women, of African Americans, and of all who aspire to it. In the face of obstacles, she remained undaunted. In this excerpt from her “Last Will and Testament,” are powerful and enduring words:
I leave you a thirst for education. I leave you a respect for the use of power. I leave you faith. I leave you racial dignity. I leave you a desire to live harmoniously with your fellow men. I leave you a responsibility to our young people.”
This is the final essay in this series devoted to the great “Emancipators,” whose carved images stand in our church’s bell tower. Each person in his and her own way strove to liberate the enslaved, and each has left a lasting legacy of their God-inspired work. May we lift our eyes to look at their dignified images, and also look up to them as examples of human greatness. It has been my pleasure to have shared their stories with you over these four weeks.
Thank you.
Photos: Statue of Bethune, Rochette and Parzini, 1972; Photo of Bethune with her Daytona students, 1943; Photo of Bethune with Eleanor Roosevelt and others; Photo of Bethune by Carl van Vechten, 1949.
BLK History Month
by Nikki Giovanni (b. 1943)
If Black History Month is not
viable then wind does not
carry the seeds and drop them
on fertile ground
rain does not
dampen the land
and encourage the seeds
to root
sun does not
warm the earth
and kiss the seedlings
and tell them plain:
You’re As Good As Anybody Else
You’ve Got A Place Here, Too
