Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
permitted to retain who does not keep and use a tooth-brush. Several
times, in recent years, students have come to us who brought with them
almost no other article except a tooth-brush. They had heard from the
lips of other students about our insisting upon the use of this, and
so, to make a good impression, they brought at least a tooth-brush with
them. I remember that one morning, not long ago, I went with the lady
principal on her usual morning tour of inspection of the girls’ rooms.
We found one room that contained three girls who had recently arrived
at the school. When I asked them if they had tooth-brushes, one of the
girls replied, pointing to a brush: “Yes, sir. That is our brush. We
bought it together, yesterday.” It did not take them long to learn a
different lesson.
It has been interesting to note the effect that the use of the
tooth-brush has had in bringing about a higher degree of civilization
among the students. With few exceptions, I have noticed that, if we can
get a student to the point where, when the first or second tooth-brush
disappears, he of his own motion buys another, I have not been
disappointed in the future of that individual. Absolute cleanliness of
the body has been insisted upon from the first. The students have been
taught to bathe as regularly as to take their meals. This lesson we
began teaching before we had anything in the shape of a bath-house.
Most of the students came from plantation districts, and often we had
to teach them how to sleep at night; that is, whether between the two
sheets—after we got to the point where we could provide them two
sheets—or under both of them. Naturally I found it difficult to teach
them to sleep between two sheets when we were able to supply but one.
The importance of the use of the night-gown received the same
attention.
For a long time one of the most difficult tasks was to teach the
students that all the buttons were to be kept on their clothes, and
that there must be no torn places or grease-spots. This lesson, I am
pleased to be able to say, has been so thoroughly learned and so
faithfully handed down from year to year by one set of students to
another that often at the present time, when the students march out of
the chapel in the evening and their dress is inspected, as it is every
night, not one button is found to be missing.
Chapter XII.
Raising Money
When we opened our boarding department, we provided rooms in the attic
of Porter Hall, our first building, for a number of girls. But the
number of students, of both sexes, continued to increase. We could find
rooms outside the school grounds for many of the young men, but the
girls we did not care to expose in this way. Very soon the problem of
providing more rooms for the girls, as well as a larger boarding
department for all the students, grew serious. As a result, we finally
decided to undertake the construction of a still larger building—a
building that would contain rooms for the girls and boarding
accommodations for all.
After having had a preliminary sketch of the needed building made, we
found that it would cost about ten thousand dollars. We had no money
whatever with which to begin; still we decided to give the needed
building a name. We knew we could name it, even though we were in doubt
about our ability to secure the means for its construction. We decided
to call the proposed building Alabama Hall, in honour of the state in
which we were labouring. Again Miss Davidson began making efforts to
enlist the interest and help of the coloured and white people in and
near Tuskegee. They responded willingly, in proportion to their means.
The students, as in the case of our first building, Porter Hall, began
digging out the dirt in order to allow the laying of the foundations.
When we seemed at the end of our resources, so far as securing money
was concerned, something occurred which showed the greatness of General
Armstrong—something which proved how far he was above the ordinary
individual. When we were in the midst of great anxiety as to where and
how we were to get funds for the new building, I received a telegram
from General Armstrong asking me if I could spend a month travelling
with him through the North, and asking me, if I could do so, to come to
Hampton at once. Of course I accepted General Armstrong’s invitation,
and went to Hampton immediately. On arriving there I found that the
General had decided to take a quartette of singers through the North,
and hold meetings for a month in important cities, at which meetings he
and I were to speak. Imagine my surprise when the General told me,
further, that these meetings were to be held, not in the interests of
Hampton, but in the interests of Tuskegee, and that the Hampton
Institute was to be responsible for all the expenses.
Although he never told me so in so many words, I found that General
Armstrong took this method of introducing me to the people of the
North, as well as for the sake of securing some immediate funds to be
used in the erection of Alabama Hall. A weak and narrow man would have
reasoned that all the money which came to Tuskegee in this way would be
just so much taken from the Hampton Institute; but none of these
selfish or short-sighted feelings ever entered the breast of General
Armstrong. He was too big to be little, too good to be mean. He knew
that the people in the North who gave money gave it for the purpose of
helping the whole cause of Negro civilization, and not merely for the
advancement of any one school. The General knew, too, that the way to
strengthen Hampton was to make it a centre of unselfish power in the
working out of the whole Southern problem.
In regard to the addresses which I was to make in the North, I recall
just one piece of advice which the General gave me. He said: “Give them
an idea for every word.” I think it would be hard to improve upon this
advice; and it might be made to apply to all public speaking. From that
time to the present I have always tried to keep his advice in mind.
Meetings were held in New York, Brooklyn, Boston, Philadelphia, and
other large cities, and at all of these meetings General Armstrong
pleaded, together with myself, for help, not for Hampton, but for
Tuskegee. At these meetings an especial effort was made to secure help
for the building of Alabama Hall, as well as to introduce the school to
the attention of the general public. In both these respects the
meetings proved successful.
After that kindly introduction I began going North alone to secure
funds. During the last fifteen years I have been compelled to spend a
large proportion of my time away from the school, in an effort to
secure money to provide for the growing needs of the institution. In my
efforts to get funds I have had some experiences that may be of
interest to my readers. Time and time again I have been asked, by
people who are trying to secure money for philanthropic purposes, what
rule or rules I followed to secure the interest and help of people who
were able to contribute money to worthy objects. As far as the science
of what is called begging can be reduced to rules, I would say that I
have had but two rules. First, always to do my whole duty regarding
making our work known to individuals and organizations; and, second,
not to worry about the results. This second rule has been the hardest
for me to live up to. When bills are on the eve of falling due, with
not a dollar in hand with which to meet them, it is pretty difficult to
learn not to worry, although I think I am learning more and more each
year that all worry simply consumes, and to no purpose, just so much
physical and mental strength that might otherwise be given to effective
work. After considerable experience in coming into contact with wealthy
and noted men, I have observed that those who have accomplished the
greatest results are those who “keep under the body”; are those who
never grow excited or lose self-control, but are always calm,
self-possessed, patient, and polite. I think that President William
McKinley is the best example of a man of this class that I have ever
seen.
In order to be successful in any kind of undertaking, I think the main
thing is for one to grow to the point where he completely forgets
himself; that is, to lose himself in a great cause. In proportion as
one loses himself in the way, in the same degree does he get the
highest happiness out of his work.
My experience in getting money for Tuskegee has taught me to have no
patience with those people who are always condemning the rich because
they are rich, and because they do not give more to objects of charity.
In the first place, those who are guilty of such sweeping criticisms do
not know how many people would be made poor, and how much suffering
would result, if wealthy people were to part all at once with any large
proportion of their wealth in a way to disorganize and cripple great
business enterprises. Then very few persons have any idea of the large
number of applications for help that rich people are constantly being
flooded with. I know wealthy people who receive as much as twenty calls
a day for help. More than once when I have gone into the offices of
rich men, I have found half a dozen persons waiting to see them, and
all come for the same purpose, that of securing money. And all these
calls in person, to say nothing of the applications received through
the mails. Very few people have any idea of the amount of money given
away by persons who never permit their names to be known. I have often
heard persons condemned for not giving away money, who, to my own
knowledge, were giving away thousands of dollars every year so quietly
that the world knew nothing about it.
As an example of this, there are two ladies in New York, whose names
rarely appear in print, but who, in a quiet way, have given us the
means with which to erect three large and important buildings during
the last eight years. Besides the gift of these buildings, they have
made other generous donations to the school. And they not only help
Tuskegee, but they are constantly seeking opportunities to help other
worthy causes.
Although it has been my privilege to be the medium through which a good
many hundred thousand dollars have been received for the work at
Tuskegee, I have always avoided what the world calls “begging.” I often
tell people that I have never “begged” any money, and that I am not a
“beggar.” My experience and observation have convinced me that
persistent asking outright for money from the rich does not, as a rule,
secure help. I have usually proceeded on the principle that persons who
possess sense enough to earn money have sense enough to know how to
give it away, and that the mere making known of the facts regarding
Tuskegee, and especially the facts regarding the work of the graduates,
has been more effective than outright begging. I think that the
presentation of facts, on a high, dignified plane, is all the begging
that most rich people care for.
While the work of going from door to door and from office to office is
hard, disagreeable, and costly in bodily strength, yet it has some
compensations. Such work gives one a rare opportunity to study human
nature. It also has its compensations in giving one an opportunity to
meet some of the best people in the world—to be more correct, I think I
should say the best people in the world. When one takes a broad survey
of the country, he will find that the most useful and influential
people in it are those who take the deepest interest in institutions
that exist for the purpose of making the world better.
At one time, when I was in Boston, I called at the door of a rather
wealthy lady, and was admitted to the vestibule and sent up my card.