Up from Slavery: An AutobiographyWashington, Booker T.
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Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
Washington, Booker T.
African Americans -- Biography; Educators -- United States -- Biography; Tuskegee Institute; Washington, Booker T., 1856-1915
From the time that I can remember having any thoughts about anything, I
recall that I had an intense longing to learn to read. I determined,
when quite a small child, that, if I accomplished nothing else in life,
I would in some way get enough education to enable me to read common
books and newspapers. Soon after we got settled in some manner in our
new cabin in West Virginia, I induced my mother to get hold of a book
for me. How or where she got it I do not know, but in some way she
procured an old copy of Webster’s “blue-back” spelling-book, which
contained the alphabet, followed by such meaningless words as “ab,”
“ba,” “ca,” “da.” I began at once to devour this book, and I think that
it was the first one I ever had in my hands. I had learned from
somebody that the way to begin to read was to learn the alphabet, so I
tried in all the ways I could think of to learn it,—all of course
without a teacher, for I could find no one to teach me. At that time
there was not a single member of my race anywhere near us who could
read, and I was too timid to approach any of the white people. In some
way, within a few weeks, I mastered the greater portion of the
alphabet. In all my efforts to learn to read my mother shared fully my
ambition, and sympathized with me and aided me in every way that she
could. Though she was totally ignorant, she had high ambitions for her
children, and a large fund of good, hard, common sense, which seemed to
enable her to meet and master every situation. If I have done anything
in life worth attention, I feel sure that I inherited the disposition
from my mother.
In the midst of my struggles and longing for an education, a young
coloured boy who had learned to read in the state of Ohio came to
Malden. As soon as the coloured people found out that he could read, a
newspaper was secured, and at the close of nearly every day’s work this
young man would be surrounded by a group of men and women who were
anxious to hear him read the news contained in the papers. How I used
to envy this man! He seemed to me to be the one young man in all the
world who ought to be satisfied with his attainments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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