Speeches and Writings File A Colored Woman in a White World (9) Chapter 11. 6 My Family Both my father and my mother were slaves and if victory had not perched upon the banner of the North in the Civil War, I would have been a slave myself. My parents were very fortunate, however, in having unusually kind masters. My father's master, Captain C.B. Church, acknowledged my father as his son, Although slave-holding fathers of colored children did not do this everyday in the week, it happened much more frequently than is generally supposed. A few years ago Birthright, a novel, was published serially in the Century magazine. The hero of it was a colored man who had graduated from Harvard. He was born and reared in a wretched, little southern town and had been sent to Cambridge, Massachusetts by his mother, a poor, ignorant, old woman, because a typical southern"colonel", who was a Harvard graduate himself, wanted her to do so. From the facts presented in this novel anybody who knew anything at all about conditions in the South could see very clearly that the old "colonel' was this colored boy's father. I made this statement to Mr. Glenn Frank, who was then editor of the Century, when I called on him to talk with him about the book. Mr. Frank admitted that in the original manuscript the author of Birthright had so represented this relationship between the two men. He had decided to omit that fact in the Century, he said, because some southern men on the magazine staff had protested vigorously against having it appear, on the ground that no southern white man would acknowledge that he was the father of a colored child. This is but one of the many illustrations of the fact that some southern editors on northern publications either do not know their South or deliberately misrepresent the facts, when it pleases them to do so. Long before slaves were emancipated it was no uncommon thing for colored boys and girls to be sent to Europe by their masters who were also their fathers, but who loved their children born of a slave mother too fondly to allow them to remain in the United States where they would have to bear the hard and humiliating lot of the slave. These children were educated and most of them married abroad and their descendants are living there to day, not dreaming they have African blood in their veins. But, even if my father's master had not acknowledged him to be his son, anybody who used his eyes and saw the two men together could plainly see that this was the relationship between them. By a strange irony of fate my father looked more like Captain Church than any of his legitimate [...] on a wall in our Memphis home there used to be [...] dressed as a Knight Templar and nearby one [...] form. They looked exactly like the picture of the [...] 380 pendent upon him I was for information of every kind. About matters pertaining to politics, to the government and to every phase of the Race Problem he was a regular walking encyclopedia. A few years ago the members of the Delta Sigma Theta Sorority of Howard University requested me to write an "oath" for them. I complied and embodied in it the rules of conduct by which, under the circumstances, I think every colored woman on the United States should try to guide her life. With varying success mixed occasionally with failure I have attempted to abide by the following precepts myself. I will strive to reach the highest educational, moral and spiritual efficiency which I can possibly attain. I will never lower my aims for any temporary benefit which might be gained. I will endeavor to preserve my health, for however great one's mental and moral strength may be, physical weakness prevents the accomplishment of much that otherwise might be done. I will close my ears and seal my lips to slanderous gossip. I will labor to ennoble the ideals and purify the atmosphere of the home. I will always protest against the double standard of morals. I will take an active interest in the welfare of my country, using my influence toward the enactment of laws for the protection of the unfortunate and weak and for the repeal of those depriving human beings of their privileges and rights. I will never belittle my race, but encourage all to hold it in honor and esteem. I will not shrink from undertaking what seems wise and good, because I labor under the double handicap of race and sex; but striving to preserve a calm mind with a courageous and cheerful spirit, barring bitterness from my heart, I will struggle all the more earnestly to reach the goal. Considering that I have lived in a country in which my race is regarded as inferior, whose representatives are terribly circumscribed and limited in various and devious ways and are socially ostracized in Chapter III. 16 Early Childhood During my childhood my parents lived in what was then called the suburbs of Memphis, Tennessee where I was born at the close of the Civil War. The first playmates whom I can remember were German children who lived nearby. My mother says that sometimes she could not understand what I wanted, because I would call things by their German rather than by their English names, having heard my playmates talk about them in their mother tongue. Although I was christened Mary Eliza Church neither my family nor my friends called me Mary. I was known as "Mollie Church" to everybody who was acquainted with me. The name of one of Captain Church's daughters was Mollie. Perhaps that may have influenced Father to give me that nickname. But Miss Mollie was deaf and dumb. As a child I talked a great deal and was never quiet for a second, of my own free will and accord, if I could find anything to do, which I generally did. When he heard me chattering like a magpie Father used often to say that nothing could have been more inappropriate then that his little daughter's name-sake should be dumb. But, after all, he declared, honors were easy for I talked enough for both of us. One of my earliest recollection is of a terrible scene which I should like to forget, but cannot even unto this day. I must have been very young -- about four years old, I presume. During my mother's absence from home a cat caught her canary bird. A woman who worked for us decided to punish the animal, called some of her friends together and with their assistance beat it to death. I remember well how I fought and scratched to save the cat's life and when I found I could not do so, I fled from the awful scene, before it succumbed. As I look back upon that shocking exhibition of cruelty to animals I can easily understand why these ignorant women were guilty of it. They had been slaves and had undoubtedly seen men, women and children unmercifully beaten by overseers for offences of various kinds and were simply practicing upon an animal, which had done wrong from their point of view, the cruelty that had seen perpetrated upon human beings over and over again. While I was very small and we still lived in the suburbs my father employed a man by the name of Dan, who often looked upon the wine when it was red and got into trouble of various kinds as a consequence. As Dan was an excellent workman when he was sober, Father used to pay his fine, whenever he was arrested for intoxication. One day the police came to the house to arrest the man for some infraction of the law and after searching all over the premises they were about to leave without finding him. But, just as I saw them close the front gate behind them, I called out, "Mister, I know where Dan is, He's hiding under that big tub yonder." When I saw the officers taking Dan away, I realized what I had done and was inconsolable, for I loved him very much. I cried so continuously and begged so piteously that Dan be allowed to come back to the house that my father was 381 the bargain, I have had a fairly fortunate existence and my lot might have been much harder than it has been, I must confess. The realization that there was presented to me a wonderful opportunity of rendering valuable service to my own group which needed it has helped me to face many unpleasant situations and cruel rebuffs with a kind of rebellious resignation and a more or less genuine smile. While I have taken advantage of my ability to get the necessaries and comforts and have availed myself of opportunities to which I was entitled by outwitting those who are obsessed with race prejudice and who would have withheld them from me, if they had been sure I am a colored woman, never for once in my life have I been tempted to cross the line and forsake my race. I could not have maintained my self respect if I had masqueraded as being something which I am not. So far as was possible, I have tried to forget the limitations imposed upon me on account of race and have gone ahead trying to accomplish what I wanted to do. But always before me, written in letters of flaming, inextinguishable light was that mandate, like unto the law of the Medes and Persians which warned me "Thus far shalt thou go and no farther." While I am grateful for the blessings which have been bestowed upon me and for the opportunities which have been offered, I can not help wondering sometimes what I might have become and might have done, if I had lived in a country which had not circumscribed and handicapped me on account of my race, but had allowed me to reach any height I was able to attain. Chapter 11. 6 My Family. Both my father and mother were slaves and if victory had not perched upon the banner of the North in the Civil War, I would have been a slave myself. My parents were fortunate, however, in having unusually kind masters. My father's master, Captain C.B. Church, acknowledged my father as his son. Although slave-holding fathers of colored children did not do this every day in the week, it happened much more frequently than is generally supposed. A few years ago Birthright, a novel, was published serially in the Century magazine. The hero of it was a colored man who had graduated from Harvard. He was born and reared in a wretched, little southern town and had been sent to Cambridge, Massachusetts by his mother, a poor, ignorant, old woman, because a typical southern "colonel", who was a Harvard graduate himself, wanted her to do it. From the facts presented in this novel anybody who knew anything at all about conditions in the South could see clearly that the old "colonel" was this colored boy's father. I made this statement to Mr. Glenn Frank, who was then editor of the Century, when I called on him to talk with him about the book. Mr. Frank admitted that in the original manuscript the author of Birthright had so represented this relationship between the two men. He had decided to omit that fact in the Century, he said, because some southern men on the magazine staff had protested vigorously against having it appear, on the ground that no southern white men would acknowledge that he was the father of a colored child. This is but one of the many illustrations of the fact that some southern editors on northern publications either do not know their South or deliberately misrepresent the facts, when it pleases them to do so. Long before slaves were emancipated it was no uncommon thing for colored boys and girls to be sent to Europe by their masters who were also their fathers, but who loved their children born of a slave mother too fondly to allow them to remain in the United States where they would have to bear the hard and humiliating lot of the slave. These children were educated abroad 6-A where most of them married and their descendants are living in Europe to day, not dreaming they have African blood in their veins. It has often been stated that if a white woman marries a black man, or vice versa, one of the children of such a union is quite likely to be black. If the curse does not settle upon the offspring of this intermarriage, it will certainly fall upon the second generation. One of the grandchildren of this black and white pair will "take after" its African pregenitor. This is a kind of propaganda spread broadcast to frighten white women from marrying black men. All my life I have associated with people who were the children of white fathers and black mothers in the same family and never have I seen one of the children black, while the brothers and sisters were yellow or white. Nor have I ever heard that there is a single black person either in England or Europe who is the descendant of an ancestor from the United States whose father was white and whose mother was black. In white families some of the children have black hair, while others are blondes; some have blue eyes while the eyes of others are black, some or fair in complexion while others are darker. In the same way there are slight differences of complexion in the families of colored people. There is also a difference in the texture of the hair and in the color of the eyes. But there is no such reversion to type as some of our southern friends claim, so that the child of two fair colored people or the offspring of a white person and one of African descent is "apt to be black." But even if my father's master had not acknowledged him to be his son, anybody who used his eyes and saw the two men together could plainly see that this was the relationship between them. By a strange irony of fate my father looked more like Captain Church than any of his legitimate children. Hanging on the wall of our Memphis home there used to be a picture of Captain Church dressed as a Kinght Templar and nearby one of father wearing the same uniform. They looked exactly like the picture of the same man taken at different 80 intimate relationship with SusanB. Anthony and her sister Mary. I would have felt that this step had been well worth while. The first complimentary notice given me in the press because of a public address was received when I addressed the National American Woman Suffrage Association when it held a biennial session in what was then called the Columbia Theatre in 1898 [it has since been converted into movie]. I was invited to deliver an address on the Progress of Colored Women and was allotted twenty minutes. The audience received my message enthusiastically, and when Miss Anthony who presided arose to announce the next speaker, she said, "I am sure you have all been thrilled at what you have just heard." A few years after that I received another invitation to address the National American Woman Suffrage Association at its Biennial Session which was held in the Universalist Church in Washington. The letter sent me by the Program Committee stated that the first time I had been invited to appear before the organization I had been requested to speak as a colored woman about colored women and had been allotted twenty minutes. But, at the approaching Biennial the Committee wished me to speak as a woman without regard to race on the Justice of Woman Suffrage and I would be given a half an hour. Some of the members of the organization declared that in assigning me that subject the Association had asked me to make the key speech of the entire session. How I worked on that speech. I spoke without a manuscript and poured my very soul into what I said. The enthusiastic manner in which the audience greeted my address more than repaid me for the time and pains I had expended on it. In commenting upon it the Boston Transcript in its issue of 2 There is no doubt whatever that President Lincoln's estimate of Uncle Tom's Cabin is not exaggerated. 8 here only a couple of months. Few, if any have even seen you. But, even if a few have lamped you, its dollars to doughtnouts they haven't learned your facial expression by heart and couldn't recognize you, if their lives depended upon it. And even if they thought they did, seeing you disguised as a Turk, they would just calmly put it down as a case of mistaken identity and let it go at that. I've been slapped on the shoulder several times by a guy who thought I was his best friend or his long-lost cousin, when I'd never laid eyes upon him before. Even if anybody had seen you a couple ofttimes you look like an entirely different bird with that red fez upon your bean. So just sit tight and everything will be all right." "I see you don't know me at all, Mr. Robert," broke in Jeff. I ain' going to borrow trouble. I'm just so dippy about hearing Caruso that I'd take a chance, even if I thought I'd be mobbed. Have you ever seen me run, since I came home from school, Mr. Robert?" But "Mr. Robert"was puzzled about one thing, at least. No matter how much he cudgled his brain, he couldn't remember for the life of him, whether a Turk kept his hat on at an entertainment or not. Way down deep in his heart he didn't believe , but he wasn't exactly sure. But, no matter what the general run of Turks did, for reasons best known to himself his own particular Turk should keep his hat on during that concert tomorrow night. He could easily fix that. As he passed into his seat, he would just whisper casually to the usher that his friend was greatly embarrassed, because he had to keep his hat on. He would explain that the Turk's head had been injured in a railroad accident and that he was sensitive about having the bandage exposed. "Mr.Robert" and Jeff met on a back street that night about an hour before the concert. The Turk put on his costume and they sallied forth. As they walked along slowly Robert felt called upon to give Jeff a few parting instructions "Now, don't get cold feet. If you begin to get weak in the knees or ale about the gills, just remember that you are the living image of a Turk 10 quantity of anything. My earliest recollection is of seeing barrels of flour, firkins of butter and large tim or wooden buckets of lard. He would buyy turkeys and chickens by the crate. Bunches of bananas used to hang where we could get them easily in our home and there were always a goodly supply of oranges and nuts. My father was an excellent cook and enjoyed nothing more than preparing dishes he liked himself. One of the first things he used to do, when I came home from school during the summer vacation, was to broil me a pompano, a fish which has a delightful flavor and is caught in the waters near New Orlenas. Although my father never went to school a day in his life, since he was already married, when he was emancipated from slavery, he was unusually intelligent and thoughtful and expressed himself exceedingly well He had taught himself to read and always kept abreast of the times. To be sure he used the idiom common to the South and pronounced certain words as they are often pronounced even by educated people of that section. So far as I can recall his worst offence against the English language was that he would refer to the "Fust of the month. My father also had business ability of high order which he demonstrated When I got to the kitchen door I picked up a chair and said If you come into the kitchen I'll knock your brains out with this here chair- He saw I meant what I said and he never came a step further - Mother rarefy referred to the fact that he had him a slave - When I questioned her about it she wd usually say that her master had not only taught her to read + write which was contrary to the law but had also given [?] 6 lessons in French - She also enjoyed relating [that] Miss Laura" her half sister had bought her wedding trousseau [*had been bot*] in New York where she had gone on a visit [*2*] just before Mother was married. Up To Date Mary Church Terrell June 30, 1928 The Houston Convention proved one thing, at least, and that is,the Democrats dearly love to fight. Now that it is all over and folks have calmed down, one can think and reach a few conclusions. It is well that white men engaged in all those fisticuffs and pummeled each other all around the hall to settle the arguments about the standards and the other things If men who are not white had made such an exhibition of themselves, the white press of the country would use it to prove that they lacked self control to such an extent they were not ready for suffrage. And, of course , men who allowed their tempers to get the best of them could not be trusted to direct the affairs of a political party wisely. But since the gentlemen who battled all over the hall with their fists are white, it is all right. It was just a little incident-amusing, perhaps, but not Transcribed and reviewed by contributors participating in the By The People project at crowd.loc.gov.