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Set around 1870: Daniel's dream to be a teacher comes true in ways he didn't expect. |
| Almost a week had passed, and Daniel sat at his desk in the schoolroom after all of the children went home for the day. After getting the recess situation explained, school went smoothly from that day on. His head was bent studiously over a pile of papers, and his pencil traced each line as he checked the children’s progress. He smiled proudly when he saw how well they were coming along. He couldn’t wait to write home and tell his father and brothers. He heard the creak of the door, and looked up to see a tall, well-built man walking in. Daniel stood and smiled, figuring it was the father of one of the children or perhaps one of the farmers coming to meet him. His smile faded though when he saw that the look on the man’s face was anything but friendly. Still, he wasn’t about to let poor manners take over on his part. With a half smile, and nod of the head, he greeted the man. “How do you do?” The man looked him up and down as if sizing him up, and then looked him the eyes. “You’re the school teacher, hmm?” he asked in such a tone that Daniel knew it wasn’t a question, but a critism. “Yes, sir!” Daniel answered, “My name is Daniel Marshall.” Daniel had hoped the man would introduce himself and state his business. Instead he watched as the man casually strolled to the black board, and glanced over the writing. “May I ask your name?” “Josiah Morgan.” the man simply stated. “What can I do for you, Mr. Morgan?” Daniel asked. “Mister?” the man asked, then laughed to himself, “The first time in my life any white man has called me ‘Mister’.” Daniel shifted uncomfortably, knowing he was being met with something now that no one – no book – had ever prepared him for. Daniel looked down at the papers on his desk, trying hard to compose himself. He couldn’t let this man see any form of weakness. Swallowing hard, he looked the man in the eye. “I have a lot of work to do.” he said, “So please don’t beat around the bush. What have you come here for?” “I came to ask you that same question.” Josiah said. “I came here to teach.” Daniel calmly answered. “Just what are you teaching?” Josiah asked, “How the whites are gods? How we coloreds need to stay in our place?” “I teach reading, writing, and arithmetic, Mr. Morgan.” Daniel replied, firmly. “What they need to learn that for?” Josiah asked with a sarcastic laugh, “They going to become doctors? Lawyers?” “Whatever they want to be!” Daniel quickly cut in, but Josiah was quick with a reply. “Oh no, boy!” Josiah emphatically shook his head, “No, they’ll be what you white people want them to be. Slaves! They give us this land and say, ‘Work it!’ and we say, “Yes, sir!’ They call it free, but we’re still slaves.” Daniel stood there, staring at the man for several seconds. His mind was searching for an answer through all the mixed emotions he was feeling: anger and resentment toward this man for trying to ruin all the good he was trying to accomplish; pity for what horrid past the man must have been through; and shame for what his own people had done. But where some had done wrong, he and many others could do their best to make it right. That was why he was there, and that’s why he was going to stay. “Mr. Morgan,” Daniel took a deep breath, then continued, “I’m sorry for your past and what my people might have done to you. It was wrong, and I make no excuses for them.” “I ain’t looking for no apologies!” Josiah defensively replied. “But,” Daniel interrupted, “The only one keeping your people enslaved right now is you!” Daniel had expected Josiah to blow up at him. He was surprised when the man silently stood there and listened. Daniel continued, “Maybe they can’t go out and become doctors and lawyers right away. Maybe it’s going to take some time. But it has to start with an education, and that’s why I’m here. As long as people like you keep discouraging them, they’ll stay impoverished and may end up just as they were before.” Josiah adjusted his hat on his head, then glared angrily at Daniel. “Ain’t none of us could read or write, but we was doing fine on our own!” Josiah snapped. “You can come here acting like you’re on some crusade for the good of man, but you’re getting something more out of this.” “You’re right! I am!” Daniel said, remembering the good feeling he had as he was going over the children’s papers, “Unfortunately, you wouldn’t understand.” “You’ve got my people’s hopes up. But they’ll see you ain’t no different from the rest of those white dogs.” Josiah said. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door in the process. Daniel lingered on what Josiah had said. Ain’t none of us could read or write… It hadn’t occurred to Daniel that even the adults couldn’t read. ~~~~~ When Daniel had finished his work, he went directly to the Doc’s office. This had been the first Daniel had seen of the office. There was an examining table in the middle of the room, and a bed in the back. Several shelves lined the walls, each filled with books, medicine bottles, herbs, and other medical supplies. Daniel was amazed at how much the Doc had managed to make this simple room look like the medical office back home. The Pastor was also there, talking with Doc. Both stopped abruptly when Daniel walked into the room, and he knew he must have been the center of discussion. Daniel told them about his visit, and two, older men looked at each other. “He came to see us after he had talked to you.” Doc smiled as he went through one of the shelves in his office. “I wouldn’t take what he says too personally.” “Doc, there’s nothing more personal than someone hating you.” Daniel said. “Not you, though.” Doc smiled, “He hates what you are: white!” Daniel rolled his eyes at the sheer lunacy of the whole thing. Perhaps it was because he was still so young, but it was difficult to understand why people had to hate each other’s skin color. “I can’t help what I was born.” Daniel said, “What does he want me to do?” “He wants you to leave!” Pastor said. “He says he’s been a slave to the whites for almost forty years, and he doesn’t want to live in the same area with another one.” “I don’t understand.” Daniel said, “You don’t all feel that way.” “No, but Josiah had been mistreated far worse than any of us.” Doc explained, “He’s been starved and beaten on many occasion along with the other slaves he lived with.” Not only did Daniel begin to understand Josiah’s hatred for him, but he also began to see just how naive it was of him to think he could be accepted by all of them. “For someone who’s supposed to be so smart…” Daniel didn’t finish his thought, but looked at the older men. “What do you think I should do?” “Stay and keep teaching!” Pastor said, “The parent’s who let their children attend school are full of good reports. As a matter of fact, you may find that next week you’ll have more children to teach.” Daniel’s spirits were lifted at this bit of news. Maybe Josiah didn’t want him around, but others were starting to trust him. “There was something else.” Daniel said, “Josiah said none of the adults know how to read or write either.” “Well, most do not.” Doc said, “It depends on whether or not their former owners allowed them to learn. Mine was a doctor. I used to follow him around, carrying his medical bag and equipment. A time came when I had to help him on an emergency. After it was over, he was impressed with how well I handled the situation. He said I was too smart and too handy to be a slave. He let me work as an apprentice as much as he could. Whites weren’t too accepting of it, and he even had patients walk out on him when they heard.” “Then how were you able to learn?” Daniel asked. “He treated Negroes and Indians too.” Doc answered, “They were willing to let me work on them as well. I never earned a degree like white doctors, but I probably know just as much about medicine as they do. As soon as he figured I knew as much as he could teach me, he gave me my freedom and made me promise to help everyone despite their race.” “Sounds to me as if God put you in the right place at the right time, my friend.” Pastor smiled. “What about you, Pastor?” Daniel asked, “How did you become a preacher?” “Well you don’t need a college degree to be a preacher. That’s a calling from God Himself. But if you’re asking about my story, let me tell you!” Pastor leaned forward in a storytelling stance. “When I was a boy, every Sunday we’d drive the white folk into town to go to church. Now we Negroes weren’t allowed inside the church, so we’d all gather around outside and hold our own sermons. There was this one man named Amos. He was a slave too, but he was educated. After our little sermon, he taught us all reading, writing, and arithmetic. He said it was important for us to learn, ‘cause he felt someday soon we’d all be free. Now my Pa didn’t believe it, but figured an education couldn’t hurt anything. Well, after a few years we saw that Amos’ vision was coming true. People in the north and the south were freeing their slaves before there was even talk of war.” “Were you one of the freed?” Daniel asked. “No! We were hoping our master would free us, but he didn’t until President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation.” Pastor said. “Both he and I wandered into Bedford a few months apart.” Doc said, “After a not so warm reception, Jacob brought us out here. We’ve been able to help our own people where most others wouldn’t care enough.” Daniel was fascinated with the history of both of these men. If education had done so much for these men, couldn’t it help the others as well? |
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