A Colored Teacher and Her School by Dora V. Haysmer

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Sep 21, 1911

A Colored Teacher and Her School

By Dora V. Haysmer

THE following quotations are from letters written by a bright young Presbyterian girl, now the wife of an honored minister, who was first instructed in Fairfield Institute, Winnsborough, S. C., and afterward was graduated from the Scotia Seminary (Presbyterian), at Concord, N. C.,—schools founded and carried on by the Board of Missions for Freedmen (Presbyterian). As she advanced in Christian knowledge, the longing grew in her heart to go to Africa that she might tell the glad tidings to those who had never heard of Jesus. But while she waited, another door was opened before her among a very ignorant class of colored people, near her own home, in South Carolina. After teaching seven months in this school,—which gave her a walk of six miles daily, up and down hill, with three creeks to cross on the way,—she wrote the following letter:—

“Shall I tell you how I came to be here? After returning home from the school which I had been attending, I happened to meet the school commissioner, and he asked me to take this school. I promised him that I would, but not long after I met a man who lived in that neighborhood, and he told me that I had better make up my mind to go to Africa at once, rather than go down there on the government land to teach. He said it was useless for me to go, for the people had met together and decided not to send their children to any school-teacher, white or black. What, now, was I to do? I went home feeling sad, knowing that my parents would not be willing for me to go to such a place. I told them just what the man had said, and they objected to my going. But I begged them to permit me to go. They knew I had thought of going to Africa, and here was Africa in our own land. Finally they consented, and I set out on my weary journey, which did not end until late at night. The next morning I asked the woman where I had stayed to direct me to the school-house. She said they had no school-house, but there was an old empty log hut where she had heard they intended to locate a school. I got her to go with me, and just before getting there, I picked up a little half-naked girl and carried her with me to the miserable little hut. I went in and found that the hut had been used for prayer-meetings. There were logs lying about for seats. I sat there awhile, and soon found that the people meant to be as good as their word in regard to sending their children to school. I opened the school, however, with that one little child that I had picked up by the way. I knelt down and prayed, and then sang, ‘Pass Me Not, O Gentle Saviour.’ I took this child, and went to four or five houses, and begged the people to send their children to school next day. Some said that they would, and others that they would not.

“I went back to the house where I was to board, some three miles away, very sad and not a little tired. What was my surprise the next morning, on arriving at the school hut, to see seventeen little savage-looking children, with their parents along with them. The children’s clothes—or the one piece they wore—were actually pinned on with thorns. I shall not tell you how I met them, as I hope to write again soon. I got along rather roughly for the first two weeks, but after that my school numbered seventy-six, and the Sabbath-school [Sunday-school], from thirty-six to forty. The greatest need now is books and papers for my day- and Sabbath-school.”

The following year she wrote thus about her school:—

“Had any one from the North, who knew nothing about a slave State, passed through here two years ago, he would

have had little hope for these people and their children. The men would actually come to church in clothes which looked as if they had not been washed for weeks, with no coats on and in their bare feet. The women, of course, corresponded with the men in their untidy dress, and all chewed and smoked around the place of worship. I wish I could picture just how they looked and acted when I first came among them. The change has been wonderful for so short a time. You may still, now and then, find a man who comes to church without his coat, but not one without his shoes. The women all wash their clothes on the evening before, if necessary, that they and their children may come clean to Sabbath-school. I was afraid at first to tell the parents about coming to church in their untidy clothes, so I spoke through the children to the older ones about cleanliness.

“The little hut which I spoke of can bear that name no longer, for I have patched it up with pieces of planks and logs, and a little mud, too, so that it is almost comfortable now. I wonder how I wintered in this miserable, open place, with from seventy-six to eighty pupils, and no fire except what I kindled outside in the yard so that the children could warm their little bare feet as they passed in and out; for one third of them had no shoes. I have managed to get a little stove for this winter, and had it put up. Last week a number of the children and myself were caught in a rain-storm, and when we reached the schoolhouse, we looked as if we had been immersed, and it was cool enough for November. I made a fire in the stove. The children had never seen a stove before, and they stood off and looked on with as much astonishment as the natives did at Columbus, and asked all sorts of questions about it, which I took pleasure in answering.

“When I came here, there was not one child who knew the alphabet; now many can both read and write. I have an excellent Bible class, but only three Bibles, which we pass from one to another until all the children have read. You will be surprised when I tell you that these children have learned to read without books. I had one Appleton’s ‘First Reader,’ and a small blackboard. I would print each lesson on the board and around the room on the old black plank which had been used to stop cracks. Then I would call up fifteen or twenty children, and go over the words two or three times. It certainly was surprising how the children would recognize the words on the board.

“I have about ten old persons in the Sabbath-school. One old man, seventy-eight years of age, sits laughing and crying at the same time, and every now and then cries out: ‘De Lord be praised! Did I ever ’spect to see dis day? O glory! my soul feels new!’ I stop talking until he quiets down. The women, too, say ‘Amen, amen!’ while I am reading to them. I think of having the old people meet at a different hour, as I think I can teach them better by having them alone. A more superstitious people I have never seen. O, pray that they may rise above dreams and superstitions!”

When I first heard the above letters read, I thought that picture could not be true of 1911, but was assured by those who knew the condition of things, that there really are places in the South that are just as bad to-day.

If that be true, what a work we, as Seventh-day Adventists, have to do! The Lord has given us light above every other denomination. Then why should we sit back, and let others enter these places? Is it not time for us to arise and shine; to go forth in the name of the Lord, enter these dark places, and carry them the glad tidings of a soon-coming Saviour?

DORA V. HAYSMER.