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
I swept the recitation-room three times. Then I got a dusting-cloth and
dusted it four times. All the woodwork around the walls, every bench,
table, and desk, I went over four times with my dusting-cloth. Besides,
every piece of furniture had been moved and every closet and corner in
the room had been thoroughly cleaned. I had the feeling that in a large
measure my future depended upon the impression I made upon the teacher
in the cleaning of that room. When I was through, I reported to the
head teacher. She was a “Yankee” woman who knew just where to look for
dirt. She went into the room and inspected the floor and closets; then
she took her handkerchief and rubbed it on the woodwork about the
walls, and over the table and benches. When she was unable to find one
bit of dirt on the floor, or a particle of dust on any of the
furniture, she quietly remarked, “I guess you will do to enter this
institution.”
I was one of the happiest souls on Earth. The sweeping of that room was
my college examination, and never did any youth pass an examination for
entrance into Harvard or Yale that gave him more genuine satisfaction.
I have passed several examinations since then, but I have always felt
that this was the best one I ever passed.
I have spoken of my own experience in entering the Hampton Institute.
Perhaps few, if any, had anything like the same experience that I had,
but about the same period there were hundreds who found their way to
Hampton and other institutions after experiencing something of the same
difficulties that I went through. The young men and women were
determined to secure an education at any cost.
The sweeping of the recitation-room in the manner that I did it seems
to have paved the way for me to get through Hampton. Miss Mary F.
Mackie, the head teacher, offered me a position as janitor. This, of
course, I gladly accepted, because it was a place where I could work
out nearly all the cost of my board. The work was hard and taxing but I
stuck to it. I had a large number of rooms to care for, and had to work
late into the night, while at the same time I had to rise by four
o’clock in the morning, in order to build the fires and have a little
time in which to prepare my lessons. In all my career at Hampton, and
ever since I have been out in the world, Miss Mary F. Mackie, the head
teacher to whom I have referred, proved one of my strongest and most
helpful friends. Her advice and encouragement were always helpful in
strengthening to me in the darkest hour.
I have spoken of the impression that was made upon me by the buildings
and general appearance of the Hampton Institute, but I have not spoken
of that which made the greatest and most lasting impression on me, and
that was a great man—the noblest, rarest human being that it has ever
been my privilege to meet. I refer to the late General Samuel C.
Armstrong.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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