for my cultural theory in education class. will be back with regular posting jibber-jabber soon. The way W.E.B. Du Bois writes is amazingly eloquent and rich while deeply intelligent and thoughtful. The back cover of his book (which you can read in full
here) describes it as essential reading for everyone interested in African-American history and the struggle for civil rights in America, which excludes no one. Though most of us claim to be racism-free, I see traces of prejudiced legacy running through us that I do not wish to have and seek to eradicate but really do not understand. Some of the ideas that really stood out to me were the economic factors of the post-Civil War South, the influence of the New England schoolmarm, the true aims of education, race relations, and the question of the future and how we are going to get along in it.
At first I somehow missed the fact that
TSoBF was first published in 1903, and wondered what Du Bois would say of today’s world and race relations. It seems like some of the race issues and what was going on in “black folks’ souls” have not changed drastically today, which perhaps is why I forgot it was written over a hundred years ago. I think our main problem today is still the color line. The legacy of the
Freedmans’ Bureau (lawlessness and crime, page 24) continues to haunt the black image today, and the demoralizing camp life of the days following the Emancipation sound like a form of early ghettoism. Du Bois highlights for me some of the reasons why racism and prejudice against blacks remains so deep-seated and implacable even now in the 21st century, a sad state of affairs to say the least. Right from the beginning of the book, he clarifies the problems of poverty, bastardy (at the hands of white slave owners and lechers beyond 1865), the ballot and the school, and how “Negroes” (a term I have trouble using for obvious reasons in this day and age) had an abundance of the former and a serious deficit in equality of the latter. My white guilt cast a shadow over the pages as I read, wanting to weep for the injustices of the past, probably at the hands of my own ancestors. Nevertheless, the accomplishment of the Freedmans’ Bureau were impressive, mostly noticeably in the establishment of schools and enlisting help for the newly freed. I wondered briefly if any former slaves regretted their new-found liberty once the economic and legal oppression became even more starkly outlined as they attempted to live their lives (this thought resurfaced around pg. 110 as the author describes the daily life of the house servants, their intimacy and family ties with the family, and the consequences of the coming separation and class-forming of post-1865 life). What exactly is freedom, anyway?
“It is a hard thing to live haunted by the ghost of an untrue dream; to see the wide vision of empire fade into real ashes and dirt; to feel the pang of the conquered, and yet know that with all the Bad that fell on one black day something was vanquished that deserved to live, something killed that in justice had not dared to die; to know that with the Right that triumphed, triumphed something of Wrong…All this is bitter hard, and many a man and city and people have found in it excuse for sulking, and brooding, and listless waiting.” (48) Du Bois is remarkable in that he draws his own life into his words but does not make the story about him. He cites politics through prose, and researches people to understand history, yet he does not demand specific actions, anarchy, or attitudes in response, nor does he attempt to justify or apologize for the past or present. He quietly asks through reason and passion for a revolution starting in the mind and the opening of it.
Another topic that Du Bois explores is the role of the New England schoolmarm—in the wake of national upheaval, these brave teachers educated a generation of ignorant people struggling to meet the outrageous demands of their new world. That image of the alphabet ringing out across the scorched fields will always stick with me. This made me feel a little better about myself, as I was a teacher myself, to know how important and vital the role of the educator was and is.
“To make here in human education that ever necessary combination of the permanent and the contingent—of the ideal and the practical in workable equilibrium—has been there, as it ever must be in every age and place, a matter of infinite experiment and frequent mistakes.” (57) Certainly this has bearing on our current situation of experimenting and mistake-making in educational policy-making and the state of public schools. More importantly, Du Bois stresses the true aim of education (and the real potential for learning) is through the interaction of human spirits, “the contact of living souls” (63), the developing of human reason, the sharing of stories and emphasis on the positive aspirations of mankind—certainly this should be our focus too as we educate children in today’s world of war, inequity, and prejudice.
Other chapters as Du Bois travels through post-war Georgia and comments on the lives and politics there reminded me of Gone with the Wind—a favorite book of mine since childhood, and a film I would watch with my mom whenever it was on TV. Romanced by the antebellum costumes and mansions and whatnot but somewhat ignorant as to the racial turbulence as a child, it was eye-opening to understand what was going on for black folk during this time. Margaret Mitchell presents a fairly accurate portrayal of the old South, garnered from conversations on porches with older folk who had lived through it, but older white folk. Another powerful book from this time period includes
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, told from the viewpoint of a young black girl in the rural South who watches her family struggle to keep their land as she herself experiences prejudice and racism at school and in town (two powerful social concepts Du Bois studies).
Another well-expressed concept is Du Bois’ approaches to studying race relations. Citing physical proximity, economic and political factors, intellectual contact and commerce, forms of everyday social contact, and religious enterprise as the six elements of race relations, he teases apart what this really means for a turn-of-the-century black American. Here again I hear echoes of 21st century American turmoil—the alignment of locations of homes to economic status allow for the worst of both races to see each other. There was some serious and illegal screwing-over of voiceless minorities, which we see today as well. Political activity, both then and now, seems to do little to seriously help blacks, or really anyone who was not white and rich. “So flagrant became the political scandals that reputable men began to leave politics alone, and politics consequently became disreputable.” (105) As Du Bois says on the next page, there is no way of telling how much one will be taxed, how the taxes are used, who makes such laws and how, who enforces them and how, etc. In 105 years, is that so far gone from our current system of government? The same can be said for the reasons and perspectives Du Bois cites for increases in black crime and the consequences of creating a jail culture in a seriously inequitable class society. We see similarities again in school funding along racial lines, now and then. In 1903, the author called for “a union of intelligence and sympathy” as the only real way to preserve the justice of the Republic—two things I unfortunately do not believe enough Americans possess in great quantities.
Du Bois turns from politics and economics in his last chapters on religion (The Preacher, The Music, and the Frenzy), the joyous birth and tragic death of his infant son,
Alexander Crummell, the sorrow songs, and the confusions of John Jones as he attempts to make sense of the North, South, and subordination, eventually becoming a teacher. This conversation summed up my final thoughts best:
“John,” she said, “does it make everyone—unhappy when they study and learn lots of things?”
He paused and smiled. “I am afraid it does,” he said.
“And, John, are you glad you studied?”
“Yes,” came the answer, slowly but positively. (149)
