Stories of grit

by Archer Wallace

When Booker was about eight years of age the slaves were liberated, and he, with his mother and brother and sister, set out for West Virginia, where his stepfather worked in the salt mines. The family packed up their few belongings, and, with very little money, set out on the long and tedious journey of several hundred miles. The children walked most of the way, until their feet were sore and blistered. It took them several weeks to make the journey, and they slept, either in the open or in some abandoned cabin by the roadside.

Although he was only a child, Booker was put to work in the salt mines as soon as they reached Maiden, where his stepfather lived. There was no play for him, nothing but hard work. Sometimes he had to rise at four o'clock in the morning, and work until he was nearly dropping from sheer exhaustion.

Once when he was a little fellow, he had taken some books to the school house for his young mistress. He looked in and saw several dozen white boys and girls learning to read and write, and it seemed a wonderful thing to him. He thought that getting into school must be like getting into Paradise. Once he got settled in Maiden a great desire to learn to read came over him. In some way a copy of Webster's spelling book found its way to their cabin, and he eagerly began to learn the alphabet. At that time there was no single person of his race whom he knew, who could spell, and he was afraid to ask the white people. But in some way he learned what the letters stood for, and soon he began to spell out simple words. His mother was totally ignorant, but she encouraged him all she could.

About this time some kind of a school for coloured children was opened in the town, and a young negro who had learned to read was put in charge. Booker's stepfather, however, decided that he could not afford to lose the money that he was earning, and that he must continue to work in the salt mines. This was a most crushing blow to the negro boy who was so anxious to learn. However, he succeeded in persuading the teacher to give him lessons at night, and he worked hard, although he was often tired in body. After a while he was allowed to attend day school, on the understanding that he also did his work in the mines. So he worked in the mines from very early in the morning until nine o'clock, when school opened, and again he returned when school hours were over.

When he did get to school he found difficulties. All the other boys had "store" caps, of which they were very proud. Booker had none, nor had his mother any money wherewith to buy one, but she sewed two pieces of cloth together, which answered for a "cap". The other boys made great fun of his homemade cap, but he knew it was the best that his mother could do, so he tried to ignore their ridicule. Young Booker had heaps of trouble, and difficulties at every turn, but there never was a time in all those hard years when he did not have the determination to secure an education.

One day, while he was working in the mine, young Booker overheard two men talking about an advanced school for coloured boys at some distance away. In the darkness he crept closer, and he heard one of the men say that opportunities for work were provided, so that worthy pupils could pay part of their board, and at the same time be taught some trade. That was a turning point in his life. He determined there and then to get to that school. Once he had formed that resolution, the idea never left him day or night.

By means of very hard work he managed to save enough money to start him on the road to the school, which was known as Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute. After many hardships and bitter experiences, he arrived there, but when he presented himself before the head teacher she hesitated about taking him in. He was tired after the long, weary journey, and his clothes were worn threadbare. He looked like a worthless tramp. After some hesitation the teacher gave him a broom, and told him to sweep a room.

Did he sweep that room clean? He never tackled anything with so much delight. He swept it, then dusted it four times. He rubbed every piece of furniture in that room until it shone. He felt that his future depended upon the way he cleaned that room. When he had finished the head teacher came and examined his work. She couldn't find a particle of dust anywhere. "I guess you will do to enter this institution," she said.

He spent three years at Hampton. They were hard years in many ways, for he had little money, and besides, he had to learn everything, almost from the beginning. But he was sheer grit, and things which would have discouraged others only made him more determined. He soon gained a grasp of his studies, and, by very hard grinding, worked his way to the front in his classes. After his course was completed he was made a teacher in the institution, and put in charge of a group of Indians, with whom he did remarkably well.

Then a great opportunity opened up for him. A normal school for coloured people was to be opened in Tuskegee, Alabama. A great many schools for coloured children had been opened since the abolition of slavery, but most of the teachers themselves were not educated, and this normal school was instituted for their benefit. Booker T. Washington was asked if he would take charge of it, and he gladly did so. He began his work in a disused shanty with about thirty pupils, practically all of whom had been trying to teach school.