Letters of a Javanese Princess

by Raden Adjeng Kartini

That my Father approved of this suggestion, you know already. When I went to Batavia I saw the Directress of the Girls' High School and she said that she would do everything in her power to help me. This cordiality from one who was almost a stranger, was very encouraging. Unsought and unexpected, this offer of assistance was simply thrown into my lap. I was in the clouds and thought that my departure for Batavia was only a question of weeks, or at most, of months.

I have already told you that we are not rich; though Father has a large income, at the same time, his expenditures are great, so that we have only enough to live quietly and to give our boys (boys must be helped before everything) to give the boys good educations.

I had also thought of the financial difficulties, and had made a plan so that the expense of my studies would not be too great a burden. It would cost my father twelve hundred florins for one year, a whole month's income, and no small sum for a household as large as ours; so my thoughts turned towards the medical school at Batavia, tuition in medicine is free, at least for boys (there have never been any women medical students). One can study medicine at the expense of the country. The students receive free lodging, a monthly allowance to cover cost of food and clothing, and there is free medical attendance.

When I was in Batavia I asked the Director of Education to which department the school of medicine belonged, and if girls would be admitted to it. Dr. A. had nothing against that, but naturally girls would be special students. My idea was to ask the Government to admit me upon the same footing as the men students. For every one with any brains at all can see how useful a woman doctor would be, especially among the women of the people, who usually would rather die than be touched by a strange man.

If the chief of the department of Education would support my petition there is no doubt but that the government would receive it favourably. I have already thought much about the medical profession, the length of time required for study alone disconcerts me. For one who is not yet twenty, seven years of study does not seem so long; but for one who has already passed that age, it is very long. And then as a full grown girl to have to sit in the beginning day after day, between boys of from thirteen to eighteen, and to be the only woman in a circle of men is not pleasant. But these are minor difficulties, which I could force myself to overcome.

There is still something else; Father and my friends are against it, though fortunately not unconditionally. Father objects because I should be the only girl among all those men and boys, such a thing would be unheard of here—and my friends object because they are afraid that I would not have the necessary nerve to go through with the studies.

Medicine is certainly a splendid calling, but not a profession for every one; a strong will and perseverance are not enough, nerves of steel are also a necessity. That is what worries my friends, so that they give me no peace.

Father thinks that teaching would be the best profession for me, as do also my friends in Batavia. They think that would be a suitable, fine work for me, where I could spread my ideas broadcast among the younger generation, the women and mothers of the future. As a teacher, even of a little circle, there would be a direct influence exerted upon that little circle, which would in time, widen and spread out so that many would follow my example.

You know my love for literature; it is one of my dreams to be able to accomplish something there. It is true one cannot serve two masters at the same time, but I see no reason why if I were a teacher, after being busy with the children all day, I could not work at literature at night. I want to do only one thing at a time and do that well. Entre ces deux mon coeur balance! As a doctor or something else, perhaps I should not have the opportunity to do that other work of which I am so fond, scribbling with my pen.

But teaching, the bringing up of children, is something so earnest and sacred in itself, that I should never be at peace if I attempted it, and felt myself unable to do it well.