The Atlanta Exposition Speech

The Atlanta Exposition, at which I had been asked to make an address as a representative of the Negro race, as stated in the last chapter, was opened with a short address from Governor Bullock. After other interesting exercises, including an invocation from Bishop Nelson, of Georgia, a dedicatory ode by Albert Howell, Jr., and addresses by the President of the Exposition and Mrs. Joseph Thompson, the President of the Woman’s Board, Governor Bullock introduce me with the words, “We have with us to-day a representative of Negro enterprise and Negro civilization.”

As I mentioned in the last chapter, I had been asked to speak at the Atlanta Exposition as a representative of the Negro race. The Exposition opened with a short speech by Governor Bullock. Other interesting proceedings followed, including a prayer by Bishop Nelson of Georgia and a dedicatory poem by Albert Howell, Jr. The President of the Exposition and Mrs. Joseph Thompson, the President of the Woman’s Board, also spoke. Governor Bullock then introduced me with the words, “We have with us to-day a representative of Negro enterprise and Negro civilization.”

When I arose to speak, there was considerable cheering, especially from the coloured people. As I remember it now, the thing that was uppermost in my mind was the desire to say something that would cement the friendship of the races and bring about hearty cooperation between them. So far as my outward surroundings were concerned, the only thing that I recall distinctly now is that when I got up, I saw thousands of eyes looking intently into my face. The following is the address which I delivered:—

When I stood up to speak, there was a great deal of cheering, especially from the Black people. As I remember it now, my main desire was to say something that would strengthen friendship between the races and bring about wholehearted cooperation between them. Of everything around me, I remember only one thing clearly. When I stood up, I saw thousands of eyes looking intently at my face. The following is the speech I gave:

Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Board of Directors and Citizens.

Mr. President, gentlemen of the board of directors, and citizens.

One-third of the population of the South is of the Negro race. No enterprise seeking the material, civil, or moral welfare of this section can disregard this element of our population and reach the highest success. I but convey to you, Mr. President and Directors, the sentiment of the masses of my race when I say that in no way have the value and manhood of the American Negro been more fittingly and generously recognized than by the managers of this magnificent Exposition at every stage of its progress. It is a recognition that will do more to cement the friendship of the two races than any occurrence since the dawn of our freedom.

One-third of the South’s population is Black. No effort to improve the region’s material, civil, or moral welfare can fully succeed if it ignores Black people. Mr. President and Directors, I speak for the great majority of my race when I say this: The managers of this magnificent Exposition have fittingly and generously recognized the worth and manhood of the American Negro at every stage of the Exposition’s progress. No other recognition has been more fitting or generous. This recognition will do more to strengthen friendship between the two races than anything that has happened since our freedom began.

Not only this, but the opportunity here afforded will awaken among us a new era of industrial progress. Ignorant and inexperienced, it is not strange that in the first years of our new life we began at the top instead of at the bottom; that a seat in Congress or the state legislature was more sought than real estate or industrial skill; that the political convention or stump speaking had more attractions than starting a dairy farm or truck garden.

Not only that, but the opportunity offered here will also begin a new era of industrial progress among us. We were uneducated and inexperienced, so it is no surprise that we started at the top instead of the bottom in the first years of our new life. We sought seats in Congress or state legislatures more than real estate or industrial skills. Political conventions and campaign speeches attracted us more than starting a dairy farm or a vegetable garden.

A ship lost at sea for many days suddenly sighted a friendly vessel. From the mast of the unfortunate vessel was seen a signal, “Water, water; we die of thirst!” The answer from the friendly vessel at once came back, “Cast down your bucket where you are.” A second time the signal, “Water, water; send us water!” ran up from the distressed vessel, and was answered, “Cast down your bucket where you are.” And a third and fourth signal for water was answered, “Cast down your bucket where you are.” The captain of the distressed vessel, at last heeding the injunction, cast down his bucket, and it came up full of fresh, sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River. To those of my race who depend on bettering their condition in a foreign land or who underestimate the importance of cultivating friendly relations with the Southern white man, who is their next-door neighbour, I would say: “Cast down your bucket where you are”—cast it down in making friends in every manly way of the people of all races by whom we are surrounded.

A ship had been lost at sea for many days when it suddenly spotted a friendly vessel. A signal appeared on the mast of the troubled ship: “Water, water; we are dying of thirst!” The friendly vessel immediately replied, “Lower your bucket where you are.” A second signal went up from the troubled ship: “Water, water; send us water!” Again, the answer came: “Lower your bucket where you are.” The ship signaled for water a third and fourth time, and each time received the same answer: “Lower your bucket where you are.” At last, the captain of the troubled ship followed the advice and lowered his bucket. It came up full of fresh, sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River. To those of my race who depend on improving their lives in a foreign land, I would say: “Lower your bucket where you are.” I say the same to those who underestimate the importance of friendly relations with Southern white people, their next-door neighbors. Lower your bucket by making friends, in every honorable way, with the people of all races who surround us.

Cast it down in agriculture, mechanics, in commerce, in domestic service, and in the professions. And in this connection it is well to bear in mind that whatever other sins the South may be called to bear, when it comes to business, pure and simple, it is in the South that the Negro is given a man’s chance in the commercial world, and in nothing is this Exposition more eloquent than in emphasizing this chance. Our greatest danger is that in the great leap from slavery to freedom we may overlook the fact that the masses of us are to live by the productions of our hands, and fail to keep in mind that we shall prosper in proportion as we learn to dignify and glorify common labour and put brains and skill into the common occupations of life; shall prosper in proportion as we learn to draw the line between the superficial and the substantial, the ornamental gewgaws of life and the useful. No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem. It is at the bottom of life we must begin, and not at the top. Nor should we permit our grievances to overshadow our opportunities.

Cast it down in farming, trades, business, domestic service, and the professions. In this connection, it is worth remembering that the South may be blamed for other sins. But in business alone, it is in the South that Black people are given a fair chance in the commercial world. Nothing about this Exposition speaks more eloquently than its emphasis on that chance. Our greatest danger comes from the great leap from slavery to freedom. We may overlook the fact that most of us must live by the work of our hands. We may also forget that we will prosper as we learn to honor and value ordinary labor. We must put intelligence and skill into the everyday occupations of life. We will also prosper as we learn to distinguish the superficial from the substantial, and life's decorative trinkets from useful things. No race can prosper until it learns that farming a field has as much dignity as writing a poem. We must begin at the bottom of life, not at the top. Nor should we let our grievances overshadow our opportunities.

To those of the white race who look to the incoming of those of foreign birth and strange tongue and habits of the prosperity of the South, were I permitted I would repeat what I say to my own race: “Cast down your bucket where you are.” Cast it down among the eight millions of Negroes whose habits you know, whose fidelity and love you have tested in days when to have proved treacherous meant the ruin of your firesides. Cast down your bucket among these people who have, without strikes and labour wars, tilled your fields, cleared your forests, builded your railroads and cities, and brought forth treasures from the bowels of the earth, and helped make possible this magnificent representation of the progress of the South. Casting down your bucket among my people, helping and encouraging them as you are doing on these grounds, and to education of head, hand, and heart, you will find that they will buy your surplus land, make blossom the waste places in your fields, and run your factories. While doing this, you can be sure in the future, as in the past, that you and your families will be surrounded by the most patient, faithful, law-abiding, and unresentful people that the world has seen. As we have proved our loyalty to you in the past, nursing your children, watching by the sick-bed of your mothers and fathers, and often following them with tear-dimmed eyes to their graves, so in the future, in our humble way, we shall stand by you with a devotion that no foreigner can approach, ready to lay down our lives, if need be, in defence of yours, interlacing our industrial, commercial, civil, and religious life with yours in a way that shall make the interests of both races one. In all things that are purely social we can be as separate as the fingers, yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress.

To white people who look to newcomers from foreign lands, with unfamiliar languages and customs, for the South’s prosperity, I would say what I say to my own race: “Cast down your bucket where you are.” Cast it down among the eight million Black people whose habits you know. You have tested their loyalty and love in days when betrayal would have meant the ruin of your homes. Cast down your bucket among these people who have farmed your fields and cleared your forests without strikes or labor wars. They have built your railroads and cities, brought treasures from deep within the earth, and helped make this magnificent display of the South’s progress possible. Cast down your bucket among my people. Help and encourage them, as you are doing here, and support the education of their minds, hands, and hearts. You will find that they will buy your surplus land, make your unused fields bloom, and run your factories. As they do so, you can be sure that you and your families will be surrounded by them. In the future, as in the past, they will be the most patient, faithful, law-abiding, and unresentful people the world has seen. In the past, we proved our loyalty to you. We cared for your children and kept watch at your parents’ sickbeds. We often followed them to their graves with tears in our eyes. In the same way, we will stand by you in the future, in our humble way, with a devotion no foreigner can match. We will be ready to lay down our lives, if necessary, to defend yours. We will join our industrial, commercial, civic, and religious lives with yours, making the interests of both races one. In everything that is purely social, we can be as separate as the fingers. Yet in everything essential to our mutual progress, we can be one as the hand.

There is no defence or security for any of us except in the highest intelligence and development of all. If anywhere there are efforts tending to curtail the fullest growth of the Negro, let these efforts be turned into stimulating, encouraging, and making him the most useful and intelligent citizen. Effort or means so invested will pay a thousand per cent interest. These efforts will be twice blessed—“blessing him that gives and him that takes.”

None of us can be safe or secure unless all people achieve the highest level of education and development. If anyone is trying to limit the full development of Black people, let them instead encourage and support that development. Let them help Black people become the most useful and intelligent citizens they can be. Effort or resources invested this way will pay a thousand percent interest. These efforts will be twice blessed, “blessing him that gives and him that takes.”

There is no escape through law of man or God from the inevitable:—

Neither human nor divine law can offer an escape from the inevitable:

Nearly sixteen millions of hands will aid you in pulling the load upward, or they will pull against you the load downward. We shall constitute one-third and more of the ignorance and crime of the South, or one-third its intelligence and progress; we shall contribute one-third to the business and industrial prosperity of the South, or we shall prove a veritable body of death, stagnating, depressing, retarding every effort to advance the body politic.

Nearly sixteen million hands will help you pull the load upward, or they will pull against you, dragging it downward. We will make up at least one-third of the South’s ignorance and crime, or one-third of its intelligence and progress. We will contribute one-third of the South’s business and industrial prosperity. Or we will be a dead weight, stalling, weakening, and holding back every effort to advance society.

Gentlemen of the Exposition, as we present to you our humble effort at an exhibition of our progress, you must not expect overmuch. Starting thirty years ago with ownership here and there in a few quilts and pumpkins and chickens (gathered from miscellaneous sources), remember the path that has led from these to the inventions and production of agricultural implements, buggies, steam-engines, newspapers, books, statuary, carving, paintings, the management of drug-stores and banks, has not been trodden without contact with thorns and thistles. While we take pride in what we exhibit as a result of our independent efforts, we do not for a moment forget that our part in this exhibition would fall far short of your expectations but for the constant help that has come to our education life, not only from the Southern states, but especially from Northern philanthropists, who have made their gifts a constant stream of blessing and encouragement.

Gentlemen of the Exposition, we offer this modest exhibit of our progress, but you must not expect too much. Thirty years ago, we started with only a few quilts, pumpkins, and chickens here and there. These had been gathered from various sources. Remember that the path from those beginnings has not been without thorns and thistles. It has led to the invention and production of farm tools, buggies, steam engines, newspapers, books, statues, carvings, and paintings. It has also led to the management of drugstores and banks. We take pride in what our independent efforts have produced for this exhibit. But we never forget the constant help our educational efforts have received from the Southern states and especially from Northern philanthropists. Without that help, our part of the exhibit would fall far short of your expectations. Their gifts have been a constant source of blessing and encouragement.

The wisest among my race understand that the agitation of questions of social equality is the extremest folly, and that progress in the enjoyment of all the privileges that will come to us must be the result of severe and constant struggle rather than of artificial forcing. No race that has anything to contribute to the markets of the world is long in any degree ostracized. It is important and right that all privileges of the law be ours, but it is vastly more important that we be prepared for the exercises of these privileges. The opportunity to earn a dollar in a factory just now is worth infinitely more than the opportunity to spend a dollar in an opera-house.

The wisest people of my race understand that pushing for social equality is the height of folly. They know that gaining all the privileges that will come to us must result from hard and constant struggle, not artificial pressure. No race with something to contribute to the world’s markets is excluded to any degree for long. It is important and right that we have all the privileges the law provides. But it is far more important that we be prepared to exercise those privileges. Right now, the chance to earn a dollar in a factory is worth infinitely more than the chance to spend a dollar at an opera house.

In conclusion, may I repeat that nothing in thirty years has given us more hope and encouragement, and drawn us so near to you of the white race, as this opportunity offered by the Exposition; and here bending, as it were, over the altar that represents the results of the struggles of your race and mine, both starting practically empty-handed three decades ago, I pledge that in your effort to work out the great and intricate problem which God has laid at the doors of the South, you shall have at all times the patient, sympathetic help of my race; only let this be constantly in mind, that, while from representations in these buildings of the product of field, of forest, of mine, of factory, letters, and art, much good will come, yet far above and beyond material benefits will be that higher good, that, let us pray God, will come, in a blotting out of sectional differences and racial animosities and suspicions, in a determination to administer absolute justice, in a willing obedience among all classes to the mandates of law. This, this, coupled with our material prosperity, will bring into our beloved South a new heaven and a new earth.

In conclusion, let me repeat that nothing in thirty years has given us more hope and encouragement than the opportunity offered by the Exposition. Nothing has drawn us closer to you of the white race. Here, it is as if we are bending over an altar. It represents the results of the struggles of your race and mine, both of which began practically empty-handed thirty years ago. I pledge that my race will always give you patient, sympathetic help as you work to solve the great and complex problem God has placed before the South. But always keep this in mind: the displays in these buildings show the products of field, forest, mine, and factory, as well as literature and art. Much good will come from them. Yet far greater than the material benefits will be a higher good. Let us pray to God that this higher good will come. It will come when regional differences, racial hostility, and suspicion are wiped out. It will come when we are determined to ensure absolute justice and when all classes willingly obey the law. Together with our material prosperity, this will bring a new heaven and a new earth to our beloved South.

The first thing that I remember, after I had finished speaking, was that Governor Bullock rushed across the platform and took me by the hand, and that others did the same. I received so many and such hearty congratulations that I found it difficult to get out of the building. I did not appreciate to any degree, however, the impression which my address seemed to have made, until the next morning, when I went into the business part of the city. As soon as I was recognized, I was surprised to find myself pointed out and surrounded by a crowd of men who wished to shake hands with me. This was kept up on every street on to which I went, to an extent which embarrassed me so much that I went back to my boarding-place. The next morning I returned to Tuskegee. At the station in Atlanta, and at almost all of the stations at which the train stopped between that city and Tuskegee, I found a crowd of people anxious to shake hands with me.

The first thing I remember after finishing my speech was Governor Bullock rushing across the platform to shake my hand. Others did the same. I received so many warm congratulations that I had trouble getting out of the building. But I did not realize what an impression my speech seemed to have made until the next morning. When I went into the business district, people recognized me and pointed me out. I was surprised when a crowd of men gathered around me, eager to shake my hand. The same thing happened on every street I visited. I became so embarrassed that I returned to my boarding house. The next morning, I returned to Tuskegee. At the station in Atlanta, a crowd of people was eager to shake my hand. I found crowds at almost every station where the train stopped between Atlanta and Tuskegee.

The papers in all parts of the United States published the address in full, and for months afterward there were complimentary editorial references to it. Mr. Clark Howell, the editor of the Atlanta Constitution, telegraphed to a New York paper, among other words, the following, “I do not exaggerate when I say that Professor Booker T. Washington’s address yesterday was one of the most notable speeches, both as to character and as to the warmth of its reception, ever delivered to a Southern audience. The address was a revelation. The whole speech is a platform upon which blacks and whites can stand with full justice to each other.”

Newspapers in all parts of the United States published the full speech. For months afterward, editorials praised it. Mr. Clark Howell, the editor of the Atlanta Constitution, sent a telegram to a New York paper. Among other things, he wrote: “I am not exaggerating when I say that Professor Booker T. Washington’s speech yesterday was one of the most notable ever delivered to a Southern audience. That is true both of the speech itself and of the warmth of its reception. The speech was a revelation. The whole speech offers a platform on which blacks and whites can stand with full justice to each other.”

The Boston Transcript said editorially: “The speech of Booker T. Washington at the Atlanta Exposition, this week, seems to have dwarfed all the other proceedings and the Exposition itself. The sensation that it has caused in the press has never been equalled.”

The Boston Transcript wrote in an editorial: “Booker T. Washington’s speech at the Atlanta Exposition this week seems to have overshadowed all the other events and the Exposition itself. The sensation the speech has caused in the press has never been equaled.”

I very soon began receiving all kinds of propositions from lecture bureaus, and editors of magazines and papers, to take the lecture platform, and to write articles. One lecture bureau offered me fifty thousand dollars, or two hundred dollars a night and expenses, if I would place my services at its disposal for a given period. To all these communications I replied that my life-work was at Tuskegee; and that whenever I spoke it must be in the interests of Tuskegee school and my race, and that I would enter into no arrangements that seemed to place a mere commercial value upon my services.

I soon began receiving all kinds of offers from lecture bureaus and editors of magazines and newspapers. They asked me to give lectures and write articles. One lecture bureau offered me fifty thousand dollars, or two hundred dollars a night plus expenses. In return, I would have to make myself available to the bureau for a set period. I replied to all these offers that my life’s work was at Tuskegee. Whenever I spoke, it had to be in the interests of the Tuskegee school and my race. I would not enter into any arrangement that seemed to place a purely commercial value on my services.

Some days after its delivery I sent a copy of my address to the President of the United States, the Hon. Grover Cleveland. I received from him the following autograph reply:—

A few days after delivering my address, I sent a copy to President Grover Cleveland. He sent me the following handwritten reply:

Gray Gables, Buzzard’s Bay, Mass.,

Gray Gables, Buzzard’s Bay, Massachusetts,

October 6, 1895.

October 6, 1895.

Booker T. Washington, Esq.:

Mr. Booker T. Washington:

My Dear Sir: I thank you for sending me a copy of your address delivered at the Atlanta Exposition.

Dear Sir: Thank you for sending me a copy of your speech at the Atlanta Exposition.

I thank you with much enthusiasm for making the address. I have read it with intense interest, and I think the Exposition would be fully justified if it did not do more than furnish the opportunity for its delivery. Your words cannot fail to delight and encourage all who wish well for your race; and if our coloured fellow-citizens do not from your utterances gather new hope and form new determinations to gain every valuable advantage offered them by their citizenship, it will be strange indeed.

Thank you so much for giving the speech. I read it with great interest. I think the Exposition would be fully worthwhile even if it had done nothing more than provide the opportunity for it. Your words are sure to delight and encourage everyone who wishes your race well. And it would be very strange if our Black fellow citizens did not draw new hope from your words. They should also gain new resolve to take advantage of every valuable opportunity their citizenship offers them.

Yours very truly,

Sincerely,

Grover Cleveland.

Grover Cleveland.

Later I met Mr. Cleveland, for the first time, when, as President, he visited the Atlanta Exposition. At the request of myself and others he consented to spend an hour in the Negro Building, for the purpose of inspecting the Negro exhibit and of giving the coloured people in attendance an opportunity to shake hands with him. As soon as I met Mr. Cleveland I became impressed with his simplicity, greatness, and rugged honesty. I have met him many times since then, both at public functions and at his private residence in Princeton, and the more I see of him the more I admire him. When he visited the Negro Building in Atlanta he seemed to give himself up wholly, for that hour, to the coloured people. He seemed to be as careful to shake hands with some old coloured “auntie” clad partially in rags, and to take as much pleasure in doing so, as if he were greeting some millionaire. Many of the coloured people took advantage of the occasion to get him to write his name in a book or on a slip of paper. He was as careful and patient in doing this as if he were putting his signature to some great state document.

Later, I met Mr. Cleveland for the first time when he visited the Atlanta Exposition as President. At the request of several others and me, he agreed to spend an hour in the Negro Building. He wanted to see the exhibit by Black people and give those attending a chance to shake hands with him. As soon as I met Mr. Cleveland, I was struck by his simplicity, greatness, and solid honesty. I have met him many times since then, both at public events and at his home in Princeton. The more I see of him, the more I admire him. During his hour in the Negro Building in Atlanta, he seemed to give his full attention to the Black people there. He seemed as careful to shake hands with an old Black “auntie” dressed partly in rags as if he were greeting a millionaire. He seemed to take just as much pleasure in it, too. Many of the Black people took the opportunity to ask him to sign a book or a slip of paper. He was as careful and patient in signing his name as if he were signing some important state document.

Mr. Cleveland has not only shown his friendship for me in many personal ways, but has always consented to do anything I have asked of him for our school. This he has done, whether it was to make a personal donation or to use his influence in securing the donations of others. Judging from my personal acquaintance with Mr. Cleveland, I do not believe that he is conscious of possessing any colour prejudice. He is too great for that. In my contact with people I find that, as a rule, it is only the little, narrow people who live for themselves, who never read good books, who do not travel, who never open up their souls in a way to permit them to come into contact with other souls—with the great outside world. No man whose vision is bounded by colour can come into contact with what is highest and best in the world. In meeting men, in many places, I have found that the happiest people are those who do the most for others; the most miserable are those who do the least. I have also found that few things, if any, are capable of making one so blind and narrow as race prejudice. I often say to our students, in the course of my talks to them on Sunday evenings in the chapel, that the longer I live and the more experience I have of the world, the more I am convinced that, after all, the one thing that is most worth living for—and dying for, if need be—is the opportunity of making some one else more happy and more useful.

Mr. Cleveland has shown his friendship for me in many personal ways. He has also always agreed to do whatever I have asked for our school. He has made personal donations and used his influence to secure donations from others. From knowing Mr. Cleveland personally, I do not believe he is aware of having any racial prejudice. He is too great a man for that. In my experience, it is usually only small-minded, narrow people who live for themselves. They never read good books or travel. They never open their souls enough to connect with other souls and the wider world. No man whose vision is limited by color can connect with what is highest and best in the world. In meeting people in many places, I have found that the happiest people do the most for others. The most miserable do the least. I have also found that few things, if any, can make a person as blind and narrow as racial prejudice. On Sunday evenings, I often speak to our students in the chapel. I tell them that the longer I live and the more experience I gain of the world, the more convinced I become of one thing. Above all else, what makes life worth living, and dying for if necessary, is the chance to make someone else happier and more useful.

The coloured people and the coloured newspapers at first seemed to be greatly pleased with the character of my Atlanta address, as well as with its reception. But after the first burst of enthusiasm began to die away, and the coloured people began reading the speech in cold type, some of them seemed to feel that they had been hypnotized. They seemed to feel that I had been too liberal in my remarks toward the Southern whites, and that I had not spoken out strongly enough for what they termed the “rights” of my race. For a while there was a reaction, so far as a certain element of my own race was concerned, but later these reactionary ones seemed to have been won over to my way of believing and acting.

At first, Black people and Black newspapers seemed very pleased with my Atlanta address and with how it was received. But the first burst of enthusiasm began to fade, and Black people began reading the speech in print. Some of them seemed to feel that they had been hypnotized. They seemed to think I had been too generous toward Southern whites. They also thought I had not spoken strongly enough for what they called the “rights” of my race. For a while, some members of my race turned against my views. But later, those who had opposed me seemed to have come around to my way of thinking and acting.

While speaking of changes in public sentiment, I recall that about ten years after the school at Tuskegee was established, I had an experience that I shall never forget. Dr. Lyman Abbott, then the pastor of Plymouth Church, and also editor of the Outlook (then the Christian Union), asked me to write a letter for his paper giving my opinion of the exact condition, mental and moral, of the coloured ministers in the South, as based upon my observations. I wrote the letter, giving the exact facts as I conceived them to be. The picture painted was a rather black one—or, since I am black, shall I say “white”? It could not be otherwise with a race but a few years out of slavery, a race which had not had time or opportunity to produce a competent ministry.

Speaking of changes in public opinion, I remember an experience I will never forget. It happened about ten years after the school at Tuskegee was established. Dr. Lyman Abbott was then the pastor of Plymouth Church and the editor of the Outlook (then called the Christian Union). He asked me to write a letter for his paper. He wanted my opinion of the exact mental and moral condition of Black ministers in the South, based on my observations. I wrote the letter, giving the exact facts as I saw them. The picture I painted was rather black. Or, since I am black, shall I say “white”? It could not have been otherwise for a race only a few years out of slavery. Its people had not had the time or opportunity to produce a competent ministry.

What I said soon reached every Negro minister in the country, I think, and the letters of condemnation which I received from them were not few. I think that for a year after the publication of this article every association and every conference or religious body of any kind, of my race, that met, did not fail before adjourning to pass a resolution condemning me, or calling upon me to retract or modify what I had said. Many of these organizations went so far in their resolutions as to advise parents to cease sending their children to Tuskegee. One association even appointed a “missionary” whose duty it was to warn the people against sending their children to Tuskegee. This missionary had a son in the school, and I noticed that, whatever the “missionary” might have said or done with regard to others, he was careful not to take his son away from the institution. Many of the coloured papers, especially those that were the organs of religious bodies, joined in the general chorus of condemnation or demands for retraction.

I think what I said soon reached every Black minister in the country. I received many letters from them condemning me. I think that for a year after the article was published, every Black association, conference, or religious body that met passed a resolution before adjourning. Each resolution condemned me or called on me to retract or change what I had said. Many of these organizations went so far as to advise parents to stop sending their children to Tuskegee. One association even appointed a “missionary” whose duty was to warn people against sending their children to Tuskegee. This missionary had a son at the school. Whatever the “missionary” said or did about other people’s children, I noticed that he took care not to withdraw his own son. Many Black newspapers also joined the general chorus of condemnation or demands for a retraction. This was especially true of papers that served as official publications for religious bodies.

During the whole time of the excitement, and through all the criticism, I did not utter a word of explanation or retraction. I knew that I was right, and that time and the sober second thought of the people would vindicate me. It was not long before the bishops and other church leaders began to make careful investigation of the conditions of the ministry, and they found out that I was right. In fact, the oldest and most influential bishop in one branch of the Methodist Church said that my words were far too mild. Very soon public sentiment began making itself felt, in demanding a purifying of the ministry. While this is not yet complete by any means, I think I may say, without egotism, and I have been told by many of our most influential ministers, that my words had much to do with starting a demand for the placing of a higher type of men in the pulpit. I have had the satisfaction of having many who once condemned me thank me heartily for my frank words.

Throughout all the excitement and criticism, I said nothing to explain myself or take back my words. I knew I was right. I also knew that time and the people's calmer reconsideration would prove me right. Before long, bishops and other church leaders began to examine the state of the ministry carefully. They found that I was right. In fact, the oldest and most influential bishop in one branch of the Methodist Church said my words were far too mild. Soon, the public began demanding a reform of the ministry. That reform is still far from complete. But I think I can say, without conceit, that my words did much to start a demand for better men in the pulpit. Many of our most influential ministers have told me so. I have had the satisfaction of hearing many who once condemned me thank me warmly for my frank words.

The change of the attitude of the Negro ministry, so far as regards myself, is so complete that at the present time I have no warmer friends among any class than I have among the clergymen. The improvement in the character and life of the Negro ministers is one of the most gratifying evidences of the progress of the race. My experience with them, as well as other events in my life, convince me that the thing to do, when one feels sure that he has said or done the right thing, and is condemned, is to stand still and keep quiet. If he is right, time will show it.

Black ministers’ attitudes toward me have changed completely. Today, I have no warmer friends in any group than I have among the clergy. The improvement in the character and lives of Black ministers is one of the most gratifying signs of the race’s progress. My experience with them, along with other events in my life, has convinced me of something. When someone is sure he has said or done the right thing and is condemned for it, he should stand firm and keep quiet. If he is right, time will show it.

In the midst of the discussion which was going on concerning my Atlanta speech, I received the letter which I give below, from Dr. Gilman, the President of Johns Hopkins University, who had been made chairman of the judges of award in connection with the Atlanta Exposition:—

While my Atlanta speech was being discussed, I received the letter below from Dr. Gilman, President of Johns Hopkins University. He had been appointed chairman of the judges of awards for the Atlanta Exposition:

Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore,

Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore,

President’s Office, September 30, 1895.

President’s Office, September 30, 1895.

Dear Mr. Washington: Would it be agreeable to you to be one of the Judges of Award in the Department of Education at Atlanta? If so, I shall be glad to place your name upon the list. A line by telegraph will be welcomed.

Dear Mr. Washington: Would you be willing to serve as a judge of awards in the Department of Education at Atlanta? If so, I would be glad to add your name to the list. Please reply by telegram.

Yours very truly,

Sincerely,

D.C. Gilman

D.C. Gilman

I think I was even more surprised to receive this invitation than I had been to receive the invitation to speak at the opening of the Exposition. It was to be a part of my duty, as one of the jurors, to pass not only upon the exhibits of the coloured schools, but also upon those of the white schools. I accepted the position, and spent a month in Atlanta in performance of the duties which it entailed. The board of jurors was a large one, containing in all of sixty members. It was about equally divided between Southern white people and Northern white people. Among them were college presidents, leading scientists and men of letters, and specialists in many subjects. When the group of jurors to which I was assigned met for organization, Mr. Thomas Nelson Page, who was one of the number, moved that I be made secretary of that division, and the motion was unanimously adopted. Nearly half of our division were Southern people. In performing my duties in the inspection of the exhibits of white schools I was in every case treated with respect, and at the close of our labours I parted from my associates with regret.

I think I was even more surprised by this invitation than by the invitation to speak at the opening of the Exposition. As a juror, I would have to judge the exhibits of both Black and white schools. I accepted the position and spent a month in Atlanta carrying out its duties. The board of jurors was large, with sixty members in all. It was divided about equally between Southern and Northern white people. Among them were college presidents, leading scientists and writers, and specialists in many subjects. When my group of jurors met to organize, one of its members, Mr. Thomas Nelson Page, proposed that I become secretary of the division. The motion passed unanimously. Nearly half of our division were Southern people. As I inspected the exhibits of white schools, I was treated with respect in every case. When our work was finished, I was sorry to part from my colleagues.

I am often asked to express myself more freely than I do upon the political condition and the political future of my race. These recollections of my experience in Atlanta give me the opportunity to do so briefly. My own belief is, although I have never before said so in so many words, that the time will come when the Negro in the South will be accorded all the political rights which his ability, character, and material possessions entitle him to. I think, though, that the opportunity to freely exercise such political rights will not come in any large degree through outside or artificial forcing, but will be accorded to the Negro by the Southern white people themselves, and that they will protect him in the exercise of those rights. Just as soon as the South gets over the old feeling that it is being forced by “foreigners,” or “aliens,” to do something which it does not want to do, I believe that the change in the direction that I have indicated is going to begin. In fact, there are indications that it is already beginning in a slight degree.

I am often asked to speak more freely about the political condition and future of my race. These memories of my time in Atlanta give me a chance to do so briefly. I believe that the time will come when Black people in the South will receive all the political rights their ability, character, and property entitle them to. I have never said this so plainly before. Still, I do not think outside or artificial pressure will do much to give Black people the freedom to exercise those rights. Instead, I believe Southern white people themselves will grant Black people those rights and protect their exercise of them. As soon as the South gets over the old feeling that “foreigners” or “aliens” are forcing it to do something against its will, I believe the change I have described will begin. In fact, there are signs that the change is already beginning to a small degree.

Let me illustrate my meaning. Suppose that some months before the opening of the Atlanta Exposition there had been a general demand from the press and public platform outside the South that a Negro be given a place on the opening programme, and that a Negro be placed upon the board of jurors of award. Would any such recognition of the race have taken place? I do not think so. The Atlanta officials went as far as they did because they felt it to be a pleasure, as well as a duty, to reward what they considered merit in the Negro race. Say what we will, there is something in human nature which we cannot blot out, which makes one man, in the end, recognize and reward merit in another, regardless of colour or race.

Let me illustrate what I mean. Suppose that, months before the Atlanta Exposition opened, newspapers and public speakers outside the South had made a general demand. Suppose they had demanded that a Black person be given a place on the opening program. Suppose they had also demanded that a Black person be appointed to the board that judged awards. Would the Black race have received any such recognition? I do not think so. The Atlanta officials went as far as they did because they felt it was both a pleasure and a duty to reward what they saw as merit in the Black race. Whatever we may say, there is something in human nature that we cannot erase. In the end, it leads one person to recognize and reward merit in another, regardless of color or race.

I believe it is the duty of the Negro—as the greater part of the race is already doing—to deport himself modestly in regard to political claims, depending upon the slow but sure influences that proceed from the possession of property, intelligence, and high character for the full recognition of his political rights. I think that the according of the full exercise of political rights is going to be a matter of natural, slow growth, not an over-night, gourd-vine affair. I do not believe that the Negro should cease voting, for a man cannot learn the exercise of self-government by ceasing to vote, any more than a boy can learn to swim by keeping out of the water, but I do believe that in his voting he should more and more be influenced by those of intelligence and character who are his next-door neighbours.

I believe Black people have a duty to make political claims modestly, as most are already doing. They should rely on the slow but sure influence of property, education, and high character to gain full recognition of their political rights. I think the full exercise of those rights will come through natural, slow growth, not overnight like a fast-growing vine. I do not believe Black people should stop voting. A man cannot learn self-government by giving up the vote, any more than a boy can learn to swim by staying out of the water. But I do believe Black voters should increasingly be influenced by their immediate neighbors who are educated and of good character.

I know coloured men who, through the encouragement, help, and advice of Southern white people, have accumulated thousands of dollars’ worth of property, but who, at the same time, would never think of going to those same persons for advice concerning the casting of their ballots. This, it seems to me, is unwise and unreasonable, and should cease. In saying this I do not mean that the Negro should truckle, or not vote from principle, for the instant he ceases to vote from principle he loses the confidence and respect of the Southern white man even.

I know Black men who have accumulated thousands of dollars’ worth of property with encouragement, help, and advice from Southern white people. But those same men would never think of asking those white people for advice about how to vote. In my view, that is unwise and unreasonable, and it should stop. I do not mean that Black people should be submissive or vote against their principles. The moment a Black person stops voting according to principle, he loses even the confidence and respect of Southern white men.

I do not believe that any state should make a law that permits an ignorant and poverty-stricken white man to vote, and prevents a black man in the same condition from voting. Such a law is not only unjust, but it will react, as all unjust laws do, in time; for the effect of such a law is to encourage the Negro to secure education and property, and at the same time it encourages the white man to remain in ignorance and poverty. I believe that in time, through the operation of intelligence and friendly race relations, all cheating at the ballot-box in the South will cease. It will become apparent that the white man who begins by cheating a Negro out of his ballot soon learns to cheat a white man out of his, and that the man who does this ends his career of dishonesty by the theft of property or by some equally serious crime. In my opinion, the time will come when the South will encourage all of its citizens to vote. It will see that it pays better, from every standpoint, to have healthy, vigorous life than to have that political stagnation which always results when one-half of the population has no share and no interest in the Government.

I do not believe any state should pass a law that lets an uneducated, poor white man vote while preventing a Black man in the same condition from voting. Such a law is unjust, and in time it will backfire, as all unjust laws do. The law encourages the Black man to gain an education and property. At the same time, it encourages the white man to remain uneducated and poor. I believe that, in time, intelligence and friendly relations between the races will end all cheating at the ballot box in the South. People will see that a white man who starts by cheating a Black man out of his vote soon learns to cheat a white man out of his vote. A man who does this ends his dishonest career by stealing property or committing some equally serious crime. In my opinion, the time will come when the South will encourage all its citizens to vote. The South will see that, in every way, a healthy, vigorous political life is better than political stagnation. Such stagnation always results when half the population has no share or interest in the government.

As a rule, I believe in universal, free suffrage, but I believe that in the South we are confronted with peculiar conditions that justify the protection of the ballot in many of the states, for a while at least, either by an education test, a property test, or by both combined; but whatever tests are required, they should be made to apply with equal and exact justice to both races.

As a rule, I believe everyone should have the right to vote freely. But I believe the South faces unusual conditions that justify voting requirements in many states, at least for a while. These could be based on education, property ownership, or both. But whatever requirements are imposed, they should apply equally and fairly to both races.