Up from Slavery: An AutobiographyWashington, Booker T.
History
Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
Washington, Booker T.
African Americans -- Biography; Educators -- United States -- Biography; Tuskegee Institute; Washington, Booker T., 1856-1915
When I had saved what I considered enough money with which to reach
Hampton, I thanked the captain of the vessel for his kindness, and
started again. Without any unusual occurrence I reached Hampton, with a
surplus of exactly fifty cents with which to begin my education. To me
it had been a long, eventful journey; but the first sight of the large,
three-story, brick school building seemed to have rewarded me for all
that I had undergone in order to reach the place. If the people who
gave the money to provide that building could appreciate the influence
the sight of it had upon me, as well as upon thousands of other youths,
they would feel all the more encouraged to make such gifts. It seemed
to me to be the largest and most beautiful building I had ever seen.
The sight of it seemed to give me new life. I felt that a new kind of
existence had now begun—that life would now have a new meaning. I felt
that I had reached the promised land, and I resolved to let no obstacle
prevent me from putting forth the highest effort to fit myself to
accomplish the most good in the world.
As soon as possible after reaching the grounds of the Hampton
Institute, I presented myself before the head teacher for an assignment
to a class. Having been so long without proper food, a bath, and a
change of clothing, I did not, of course, make a very favourable
impression upon her, and I could see at once that there were doubts in
her mind about the wisdom of admitting me as a student. I felt that I
could hardly blame her if she got the idea that I was a worthless
loafer or tramp. For some time she did not refuse to admit me, neither
did she decide in my favour, and I continued to linger about her, and
to impress her in all the ways I could with my worthiness. In the
meantime I saw her admitting other students, and that added greatly to
my discomfort, for I felt, deep down in my heart, that I could do as
well as they, if I could only get a chance to show what was in me.
After some hours had passed, the head teacher said to me: “The
adjoining recitation-room needs sweeping. Take the broom and sweep it.”
It occurred to me at once that here was my chance. Never did I receive
an order with more delight. I knew that I could sweep, for Mrs. Ruffner
had thoroughly taught me how to do that when I lived with her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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