Soon after I began teaching, I resolved to induce my brother John to attend the Hampton Institute. He had been good enough to work for the family while I was being educated, and besides had helped me in all the ways he could, by working in the coal mines while I had been away. Within a few months he started for Hampton and by his own efforts and my aid he went through the institution. After both of us had gotten through Hampton we sent our adopted brother James there, and had the satisfaction of having him educated under Gen. Armstrong.
In 1878 I went to Wayland Seminary, in Washington, and spent a year in study there. Rev. Dr. King was President of Wayland Seminary while I was a student there. Notwithstanding I was there but a short time, the high Christian character of Dr. King made a lasting impression upon me. The deep religious spirit which pervaded the atmosphere at Wayland made an impression upon me which I trust will always remain.
Soon after my year at Wayland had expired, I was invited by a committee of gentlemen in Charleston, West Virginia, to stump the state of West Virginia in the interest of having the capital of the state moved from Wheeling, West Virginia, to Charleston. For some time there had been quite an agitation in the state on the question of the permanent location of the capital. A law was passed by the legislature providing that three cities might be voted for; these were, I think, Charleston, Parkersburg and Martinsburg. It was a three-cornered contest and great energy was shown by each city. After about three months of campaigning the voters declared in favor of Charleston as the permanent capital by a large majority. I went into a large number of the counties of West Virginia and had the satisfaction of feeling that my efforts counted for something in winning success for Charleston, which is only five miles from my old home, Malden.
The speaking in connection with the removal of the capital rather fired the slumbering ambition which I had had for some time to become a lawyer, and after this campaign was over I began in earnest to study law, in fact read Blackstone and several elementary law books preparatory to the profession of the law. A good deal of my reading of the law was done under the kind direction of the Hon. Romes H. Freer, a white man who was then a prosperous lawyer in Charleston and who has since become a member of Congress. But notwithstanding my ambition to become a lawyer, I always had an unexplainable feeling that I was to do something else, and that I never would have the opportunity to practice law. As I analyze at the present time the feeling that seemed to possess me then, I was impressed with the idea that to confine myself to the practice of law would be going contrary to my teaching at Hampton, and would limit me to a much smaller sphere of usefulness than was open to me if I followed the work of educating my people after the manner in which I had been taught at Hampton. The course of events, however, very soon placed me where I found an opportunity to begin my life’s work.
My work in connection with the removal of the capital had not long been over when I received an invitation from Gen. Armstrong, very much to my surprise, to return to Hampton and deliver the graduates’ address at the next commencement. I chose as the subject of this address, “The Force that Wins.” Everyone seemed greatly pleased with what I said. After the address I was still further surprised by being asked by Gen. Armstrong to return to the Hampton Institute and take a position, partly as a teacher and partly as a post-graduate student. This I gladly consented to do. Gen. Armstrong had decided to start a night class at Hampton for students who wanted to work all day and study for two hours at night. He asked me to organize and teach this class. At first there were only about a half dozen students but the number soon grew to about thirty. The night class at Hampton has since grown to the point where it now numbers six or seven hundred. It seems to me that the teaching of this class was almost the most satisfactory work I ever did. The students who composed the class worked during the day for ten hours in the saw mill, on the farm, or in the laundry. They were a most earnest set. I soon gave them the name of the “Plucky Class.” Several of the members of this “Plucky Class” now fill prominent and useful positions. While I was teaching I was given lessons in advanced subjects by Dr. H. B. Frissell, who was then chaplain, but who is now the honored and successful successor of Gen. Armstrong, as well as by others.
About the time the night class was organized at Hampton, Indians for the first time were permitted to enter the institution. The second year that I worked at Hampton, in connection with other duties, I was placed in charge of the Indian boys, who at that time numbered about seventy-five, I think. I lived in their cottage with them and looked after all their wants. I grew to like the Indians very much and placed great faith in them. My daily experience with them convinced me that the main thing that any oppressed people needed was a chance of the right kind and they would cease to be savages.
At the end of my second year at Hampton as a teacher, in 1881, there came a call from the little town of Tuskegee, Alabama, to Gen. Armstrong for some one to organize and become the Principal of a Normal School, which the people wanted to start in that town. The letter to Gen. Armstrong was written on behalf of the colored people of the town of Tuskegee by Mr. Geo. W. Campbell, one of the foremost white citizens of Tuskegee. Mr. Campbell is still the president of the Board of Trustees of the Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, and has from the first been one of its warmest and most steadfast friends. When Mr. Campbell wrote to Gen. Armstrong he had in mind the securing of a white man to take the principalship of the school. Gen. Armstrong replied that he knew of no suitable white man for the position, but that he could recommend a colored man. Mr. Campbell wrote in reply that a competent colored man would be acceptable. Gen. Armstrong asked me to give up my work at Hampton and go to Tuskegee in answer to this call. I decided to undertake the work, and after spending a few days at my old home in Malden, West Virginia, I proceeded to the town of Tuskegee, Alabama.
I wish to add here that, in later years, 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 reach the conclusion that often the negro boy’s birth and connection with an unpopular race are an advantage, so far as real life is concerned. With few exceptions, the negro youth must work harder and 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 to be able to claim membership with the most favored of any other race. I have always been made sad when I have heard members of my race claiming rights and 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.