The Independent (July 1904) Vol. LVII, No. 2902. pp. 91-96.

Accessed via HathiTrust: https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.b3075984

A Northern Negro's Autobiography

[The three articles that we printed in The Independent last March called forth more replies than any articles we have recently published. We were obliged to reject all of them, however, except the following, which discusses a phase of the negro problem not touched upon by the three anonymous women, and often generally overlooked by the American people. This article therefore supplements the others, and the four taken together picture the negro problem from the feminine standpoint In the most genuine and realistic manner shown in any articles we have seen in print.—EDITOR.]

In The Independent of March 17th last I read, with a great deal of interest, three contributions to the so-called race problem, to be found in the experiences of a Southern colored woman, a Southern white woman and a Northern white woman.

I am a Northern colored woman, a mulatto in complexion, and was born since the war in a village town of Western New York. My parents and grandparents were free people. My mother was born in New York State and my father in Pennsylvania. They both attended the common schools and were fairly educated. They had a taste for good books and the refinements of life, were public spirited and regarded as good citizens. My father moved to this Western New York village when he was quite a boy and was a resident of the town for over fifty years; he was married to my mother in this town and three children were born to them; he created for himself a good business and was able to take good care of his family. My parents were strictly religious people and were members of one of the largest white churches in the village. My father, during his membership in this church, held successively almost every important office open to a layman, having been clerk, trustee, treasurer and deacon, which office he held at the time of his death, in 1890. He was for years teacher of an adult Bible class composed of some of the best men and women of the village, and my mother is still a teacher of a large Bible class of women in the same Sunday school. Ours was the only colored family in the church, in fact, the only one in the town for many years, and certainly there could not have been a relationship more cordial, respectful and intimate than that of our family and the white people of this community. We three children were sent to school as soon as we were old enough, and remained there until we were graduated. During our school days our associates, schoolmates and companions were all white boys and girls. These relationships were natural, spontaneous and free from all restraint. We went freely to each other's houses, to parties, socials, and joined on equal terms in all school entertainments with perfect comradeship. We suffered from no discriminations on account of color or "previous condition," and lived in blissful ignorance of the fact that we were practicing the unpardonable sin of "social equality." Indeed, until I became a young woman and went South to teach I had never been reminded that I belonged to an "inferior race."

After I was graduated from school my first ambition was to teach. I could easily have obtained a position there at my own home, but I wanted to go out into the world and do something large or out of the ordinary. I had known of quite a number of fine young white women who had gone South to teach the freedmen, and, following my race instinct, I resolved to do the same. I soon obtained a situation in one of the ex-slave States. It was here and for the first time that I began life as a colored person, in all that that term implies. No one but a colored woman, reared and educated as I was, can ever know what it means to be brought face to face with conditions that fairly overwhelm you with the ugly reminder that a certain penalty must be suffered by those who, not being able to select their own parentage, must be born of a dark complexion. What a shattering of cherished ideals! Everything that I learned and experienced in my innocent social relationships in New York State had to be unlearned and readjusted to these lowered standards and changed conditions. The Bible that I had been taught, the preaching I had heard, the philosophy and ethics and the rules of conduct that I had been so sure of, were all to be discounted. All truth seemed here only half truths. I found that, instead of there being a unity of life common to all intelligent, respectable and ambitious people, down South life was divided into white and black lines, and that in every direction my ambitions and aspirations were to have no beginnings and no chance for development. But, in spite of all this, I tried to adapt myself to these hateful conditions. I had some talent for painting, and in order to obtain further instruction I importuned a white art teacher to admit me into one of her classes, to which she finally consented, but on the second day of my appearance in the class I chanced to look up suddenly and was amazed to find that I was completely surrounded by screens, and when I resented the apparent insult, it was made the condition of my remaining in the class. I had missed the training that would have made this continued humiliation possible; so at a great sacrifice I went to a New England city, but even here, in the very cradle of liberty, white Southerners were there before me, and to save their feelings I was told by the principal of the school, a man who was descended from a long line of abolition ancestors, that it would imperil the interests of the school if I remained, as all of his Southern pupils would leave, and again I had to submit to the tyranny of a dark complexion. But it is scarcely possible to enumerate the many ways in which an ambitious colored young woman is prevented from being all that she might be in the higher directions of life in this country. Plainly I would have been far happier as a woman if my life up to the age of eighteen years had not been so free, spontaneous and unhampered by race prejudice. I have still many white friends and the old home and school associations are still sweet and delightful and always renewed with pleasure, yet I have never quite recovered from the shock and pain of my first bitter realization that to be a colored woman is to be discredited, mistrusted and often meanly hated. My faith in the verities of religion, in justice, in love and many sacredly taught sentiments has greatly decreased since I have learned how little even these stand for when you are a colored woman.

After teaching a few years in the South, I went back to my home in New York State to be married. After the buffetings, discouragements and discourtesies that I had been compelled to endure, it was almost as in a dream that I saw again my schoolmates gather around me, making my home beautiful with flowers, managing every detail of preparation for my wedding, showering me with gifts, and joining in the ceremony with tears and blessings. My own family and my husband were the only persons to lend color to the occasion. Minister, attendants, friends, flowers and hearts were of purest white. If this be social equality, it certainly was not of my own seeking and I must say that no one seemed harmed by it. It seemed all a simple part of the natural life we lived where people are loved and respected for their worth, in spite of their darker complexions.

After my marriage my husband and I moved to one of the larger cities of the North, where we have continued to live. In this larger field of life and action I found myself, like many another woman, becoming interested in many things that come within the range of woman's active sympathy and influence.

My interest in various reform work, irrespective of color, led me frequently to join hand in hand with white women on a common basis of fellowship and helpfulness extended to all who needed our sympathy and interest. I experienced very few evidences of race prejudice and perhaps had more than my share of kindness and recognition-. However, this kindness to me as an individual did not satisfy me or blind me to the many inequalities suffered by young colored women seeking employment and other advantages of metropolitan life. I soon discovered that it was much easier for progressive white women to be considerate and even companionable to one colored woman whom they chanced to know and like than to be just and generous to colored young women as a race who needed their sympathy and influence in securing employment and recognition according to their tastes and ability. To this end I began to use my influence and associations to further the cause of these helpless young colored women, in an effort to save them to themselves and society, by finding, for those who must work, suitable employment. How surprisingly difficult was my task may be seen in the following instances selected from many of like nature:

I was encouraged to call upon a certain bank president, well known for his broad, humane principles and high-mindedness. I told him what I wanted, and how I thought he could give me some practical assistance, and enlarged upon the difficulties that stand in the way of ambitious and capable young colored women. He was inclined to think, and frankly told me that he thought I was a little overstating the case, and added, with rather a triumphant air, so sure he was that I could not make good my statements as to ability, fitness, etc., "We need a competent stenographer right here in the bank now; if you will send to me the kind of a young colored woman you describe, that is thoroughly equipped, I think I can convince you that you are wrong." I ventured to tell him that the young woman I had in mind did not show much color. He at once interrupted me by saying, "Oh, that will not cut any figure; you send the young woman here." I did so and allowed a long time to elapse before going to see him again. When I did call, at the young woman's request, the gentleman said, with deep humiliation, "I am ashamed to confess, Mrs.——, that you were right and I was wrong. I felt it my duty to say to the directors that this young woman had a slight trace of negro blood. That settled it. They promptly said, 'We don't want her, that's all.'" He gave the names of some of the directors and I recognized one of them as a man of long prayers and a heavy contributor to the Foreign Mission Fund; another's name was a household word on account of his financial interest in Home Missions and Church extension work. I went back to the young woman and could but weep with her because I knew that she was almost in despair over the necessity of speedily finding something to do; The only consolation I could offer was that the president declared she was the most skillful and thoroughly competent young woman who had ever applied for the position.

I tried another large establishment and had a pleasant talk with the manager, who unwittingly committed himself to an overwhelming desire "to help the colored people." He said that his parents were stanch abolitionists and connected with the underground railway, and that he distinctly remembered that as a child he was not allowed to eat sugar that had been cultivated by the labor of the poor slave or to wear cotton manufactured by slave labor, and his face glowed as he told me how he loved his "black mammie," and so on ad nauseam . I began to feel quite elated at the correctness of my judgment in seeking him out of so many. I then said: "I see that you employ a large number of young women as clerks and stenographers. I have in mind some very competent young colored women who are almost on the verge of despair for lack of suitable employment. Would you be willing to try one of them should you have a vacancy?" The grayness of age swept over his countenance as he solemnly said: "Oh, I wish you had not asked me that question. My clerks would leave and such an innovation would cause a general upheaval in my business." "But," I said," your clerks surely do not run your business! " "No," he said, "you could not understand." Knowing that he was very religious, my almost forgotten Bible training came to mind. I quoted Scripture as to "God being no respecter of persons," and reminded him that these young women were in moral danger through enforced idleness, and quoted the anathema of offending one of "these little ones" whom Christ loved. But he did not seem to fear at all condemnation from that high tribunal. His only reply was, "Oh, that is different," and I turned away, sadly thinking "Is it different?"

This still remains a sad chapter in my experience, even tho I have been successful in finding a few good positions for young colored women, not one of whom has ever lost her position through any fault of hers. On the contrary, they have become the prize workers wherever they have been employed. One of them became her employer's private secretary, and he told me with much enthusiasm that her place could scarcely be filled, she had become so efficient and showed such an intelligent grasp upon the requirements of the position. My plea has always been simply to give these girls a chance and let them stand or fall by any test that is not merely a color test.

I want to speak of one other instance. It sometimes happens that after I have succeeded in getting these girls placed and their competency has been proved they are subjected to the most unexpected humiliations. A young woman of very refined and dignified appearance and with only a slight trace of African blood had held her position for some time in an office where she had been bookkeeper, stenographer and clerk, respectively, and was very highly thought of both by her employer and her fellow clerks. She was sitting at her desk one day when a man entered and asked for her employer. She told him to be seated, that Mr.——would be back in a moment. The man walked around the office, then came back to her and said: "I came from a section of the country where we make your people know their places. Don't you think you are out of yours?" She merely looked up and said, "I think I know my place." He strolled about for a moment, then came back to her and said: "I am a Southern man, I am, and I would like to know what kind of a man this is that employs a 'nigger' to sit at a desk and write." She replied: "You will find Mr.—— a perfect gentle man." The proprietor came in, in a moment, and ushered the man into his private office. The Southern gentleman came out of the office very precipitately. It evidently only took him a few seconds to verify the clerk's words that "her employer was a perfect gentleman."

It may be plainly seen that public efforts of this kind and a talent for public speaking and writing would naturally bring to me a recognition and association independent of any self-seeking on my own account. It, therefore, seemed altogether natural that some of my white friends should ask me to make application for membership in a prominent woman's club on the ground of mutual helpfulness and mutual interest in many things. I allowed my name to be presented to the club without the slightest dream that it would cause any opposition or even discussion. This progressive club has a membership of over eight hundred women, and its personality fairly represents the wealth, intelligence and culture of the women of the city. When the members of this great club came to know the color of its new applicant there was a startled cry that seemed to have no bounds. Up to this time no one knew that there was any anti-negro sentiment in the club. Its purposes were so humane and philanthropic and its grade of individual membership so high and inclusive of almost every nationality that my indorsers thought that my application would only be subject to the club's test of eligibility, which was declared to be "Character, intelligence and the reciprocal advantage to the club and the individual, without regard to race, color, religion or politics." For nearly fourteen months my application was fought by a determined minority. Other clubs throughout the country took up the matter, and the awful example was held up in such a way as to frighten many would-be friends. The whole anti-slavery question was fought over again in the same spirit and with the same arguments, but the common sense of the members finally prevailed over their prejudices. When the final vote was taken I was elected to membership by a decisive majority.

Before my admission into the club some of the members came to me and frankly told me that they would leave the club, much as they valued their membership, if I persisted in coming in. Their only reason was that they did not think the time had yet come for that sort of equality. Since my application was not of my own seeking I refused to recognize their unreasonable prejudices as something that ought to be fostered and perpetuated; beside, I felt that I owed something to the friends who had shown me such unswerving loyalty through all those long and trying months, when every phase of my public and private life was scrutinized and commented upon in a vain effort to find something in proof of my ineligibility. That I should possess any finer feeling that must suffer under this merciless persecution and unwelcome notoriety seemed not to be thought of by those who professed t believe that my presence in a club of eight hundred women would be at a cost of their fair self-respect. I cannot say that I have experienced the same kind of humiliations as recited in the pathetic story of a Southern colored woman in The Independent of March 17th, but I can but believe that the prejudice that blights and hinders is quite as decided in the North as it is in the South, but does not manifest itself so openly and brutally.

Fortunately, since my marriage I have had but little experience south of Mason and Dixon's line. Some time ago. I was induced by several clubs in different States and cities of the South to make a kind of lecture tour through that section. I knew, of course, of the miserable separations, "Jim Crow" cars, and other offensive restrictions and resolved to make the best of them. But the "Jim Crow" cars were almost intolerable to me. I was fortunate enough to escape them in every instance. There is such a cosmopolitan population in some of the Southwestern States, made up of Spanish, Mexican and French nationalities, that the conductors are very often deceived; beside, they know that an insult can scarcely go further than to ask the wrong person if he or she be colored. I made it a rule always to take my seat in the first-class car, to which I felt I was entitled by virtue of my first-class ticket. However, adapting one's self to these false conditions does not contribute to one's peace of mind, self-respect or honesty. I remember that at a certain place I was too late to procure my ticket at the station, and the conductor told me that I would have to go out at the next station and buy my ticket, and then, despite my English book, which I was very ostentatiously reading, he stepped back and quickly asked me, "Madame, are you colored?" I as quickly replied, "Je suis Français." "Français?" he repeated. I said, "Oui." He then called to the brake-man and said, "Take this lady's money and go out at the next station and buy her ticket for her," which he kindly did, and I as kindly replied, as he handed me the ticket, "Merci." Fortunately their knowledge of French ended before mine did or there might have been some embarrassments as to my further unfamiliarity with my mother tongue. However, I quieted my conscience by recalling that there was quite a strain of French blood in my ancestry, and too that their barbarous laws did not allow a lady to be both comfortable and honest. It is needless to say that I traveled undisturbed in the cars to which my ticket entitled me after this success, but I carried an abiding heartache for the refined and helpless colored women who must live continuously under these repressive and unjust laws. The hateful interpretation of these laws is to make no distinction between the educated and refined and the ignorant and depraved negro.

Again, the South seems to be full of paradoxes. In one city of the far South I was asked to address a club of very aristocratic white women, which I did with considerable satisfaction to myself because it gave me an opportunity to call the attention of these white women to the many cultured and educated colored women living right there in their midst, whom they did not know, and to suggest that they find some common ground of fellowship and helpfulness that must result in the general uplift of all women. These women gave me a respectful and appreciative hearing, and the majority of them graciously remained and received an introduction to me after the address. A curious feature of the meeting was that, altho it had been announced in all the papers as a public meeting, not a colored person was present except myself, which shows how almost insurmountable a color line can be.

In another city I had a very different experience, which betrayed my unconscious fear of the treachery of Southern prejudice, tho following so closely upon the pleasant experience above related. I noticed, while on my way to the church where I was advertised to speak to a colored audience, that we were being followed by a half a dozen of what seemed to me the typical Southern "cracker," red shirt and all. I was not thinking of moonshiners, but of Ku-Klux clans, midnight lynching parties, etc. My fears were further increased when they suddenly stopped and separated, so that my friends and myself were obliged to pass between the lines of three so made. My friends tried to reassure me, but I fancied with trembling tones, but my menacing escort then closed up ranks and again followed on. Finally they beckoned to the only gentleman with us and asked him what I was going to talk about. He told them the subject and hastened to console me. When we got to the church and just before I rose to speak these six men all filed in and sat down near the platform, accompanied by another individual even more fierce in appearance than they were, whom I afterward learned was the deputy sheriff of the town. My feelings are better imagined than described, but I found myself struggling to hold the attention only of this menacing portion of my audience. They remained to the close of the lecture. and as they went out expressed appreciation of my "good sense," as they termed it.

This recital has no place in this article save to show the many contrasts a brief visit to the Southland is capable of revealing. It is only just to add that I have traveled in the first-class—that is, white—cars all through the South, through Texas, Georgia and as far as Birmingham, Ala., but I have never received an insult or discourtesy from a Southern white man. While, fortunately, this has been my experience, still I believe that in some other localites in the South such an experience would seem almost incredible.

I want to refer briefly to the remarks of one of the writers in The Independent with reference to the character strength of colored women. I think it but just to say that we must look to American slavery as the source of every imperfection that mars the character of the colored American. It ought not to be necessary to remind a Southern woman that less than 50 years ago the ill-starred mothers of this ransomed race were not allowed to be modest, not allowed to follow the instincts of moral rectitude, and there was no living man to whom they could cry for protection against the men who not only owned them, body and soul, but also the souls of their husbands, their brothers, and, alas, their sons. Slavery made her the only woman in America for whom virtue was not an ornament and a necessity. But in spite of this dark and painful past, I believe that the sweeping assertions of this writer are grossly untrue and unjust at least to thousands of colored women in the North who were free from the debasing influence of slavery, as well as thousands of women in the South, who instinctively fought to preserve their own honor and that of their unfortunate offspring. I believe that the colored women are just as strong and just as weak as any other women with like education, training and environment.

It is a significant and shameful fact that I am constantly in receipt of letters from the still unprotected colored women of the South, begging me to find employment for their daughters according to their ability, as domestics or otherwise, to save them from going into the homes of the South as servants, as there is nothing to save them from dishonor and degradation. Many prominent white women and ministers will verify this statement. The heartbroken cry of some of these helpless mothers bears no suggestion of the "flaunting pride of dishonor" so easily obtained, by simply allowing their daughter to enter the homes of the white women of the South. Their own mothers cannot protect them and white women will not, or do not. The moral feature of this problem has complications that it would seem better not to dwell on. From my own study of the question, the colored woman deserves greater credit for what she has done and is doing than blame for what she cannot so soon overcome.

As to the negro problem, the only things one can be really sure of is that it has a beginning, and we know that it is progressing some way, but no one knows the end. Prejudice is here and everywhere, but it may not manifest itself so brutally as in the South. The chief interest in the North seems to be centered in business, and it is in business where race prejudice shows itself the strongest. The chief interest in the South is social supremacy, therefore prejudice manifests itself most strongly against even an imaginary approach to social contact. Here in the Northern States I find that a colored woman of character and intelligence will be recognized and respected, but the white woman who will recognize and associate with her in the same club or church would probably not tolerate her as a fellow clerk in office or [text missing]

The conclusion of the whole matter seems to be that whether I live in the North or the South, I cannot be counted for my full value, be that much or little. I dare not cease to hope and aspire and believe in human love and justice, but progress is painful and my faith is often strained to the breaking point.