“Er—that’s a thing we can’t discuss,” hastily interrupted Dr. Scott. “Conditions in the South are too unsettled to talk about giving the Negro the vote as yet.”
“As yet,” echoed Kenneth. “If we can’t discuss it now, when can we talk about it?”
“It’ll be a long time,” answered Dr. Scott frankly. “There are a lot of white people in the South who know disfranchisement is wrong. We know that we can’t keep the ballot from the Negro always. But,” he ended with a shrug of his shoulders and a thrust-ing-out of his hands, palms upward, in a gesture of perplexity and despair Kenneth was learning to know so well that he was associating it instinctively with the Southern white man, “we’d stir up more trouble than we could cope with.”
“And while you’re waiting for the opportune time, conditions are getting steadily worse, the problem is getting more complicated, and it’ll be harder to solve the longer you put off trying to solve it,” urged Kenneth. It was with an effort that he kept out of his voice the impatience he felt. “Why don’t men like you three band together with those who think as you do, so you can speak out?” he asked.
“That’s just what we are trying to do, but we have to go very cautiously,” answered Dr. Scott. “We must use discretion. How much are Negroes thinking about voting?”
“They think about it all the time,” replied Kenneth. “We know the mere casting of a ballot isn’t going to solve all our problems, but we also know we’ll never be able to do much until we do vote.”
“You must be patient—wait until the time is ripe⸺” cautioned Dr. Scott.
“Patience can be a vice as well as a virtue.” It was David Gordon who spoke.
Kenneth looked at him gratefully.
“Your race’s greatest asset,” continued Dr. Scott, addressing his remark to Kenneth, yet seeking to impart a gentle rebuke to Gordon, “has been its wonderful gentleness under oppression. You must continue to be sweet-tempered and patient⸺”