She Wanted to Teach

A railroad was being built all the way down the east coast off Florida, from Jacksonville to Miami and Negro workers were employed because they were cheap. A great many of them were in Daytona. Most of them had children. They were living in shacks worse than those in The Terry in Augusta. The children were running wild in the streets. Mary Bethune seemed to hear a voice say, "What is the place? Build your school there."

Her husband, Albertus, wasn't so sure about her school. He thought Palatka was a pretty good place for them to live. Mary listened but she never gave up her idea. She knew that if she went to Daytona, Albertus would come too.

One day she begged a ride for herself and her little boy with a family that was going to Daytona. It was only seventy miles away. But in 1904 the sand was deep on Florida roads. Practically no one had an automobile—certainly not the poor family that gave Mary and little Albert a ride. So it was three dusty days after they left Palatka before they reached Daytona. There Mary hunted up the only person she knew, and she and little Albert stayed with this friend for a few days.

As she had done in The Terry in Augusta, Mary walked up and down the poor streets of Daytona. She was looking for two things—a building for the school she was determined to start and some pupils for that school.

After a day or two, she found an empty shack on Oak Street. She thought this would do. The owner said she could rent it for $11.00 a month. But it wasn't worth that much. The paint had peeled off, the front steps wobbled so that she had to hang onto the shaky railing to keep from falling, the house was dirty, it had a leaky roof. In most of the windows the panes of glass were broken or cracked.

Eleven dollars a month! Mary said she only had $1.50. She promised to pay the rent as soon as she could earn the money. The owner trusted her. By the time she was sure she could have the building, she had five little girls from the neighborhood as her pupils.

What a school! A rickety old house and five little girls! The little girls pitched in and cleaned the house. The neighbors helped with scrubbing brushes, brooms, hammers, nails, and saws. Soon the cottage could be lived in, but there were no chairs, no tables, no beds. There was no stove. However, there were no pots and pans to cook in, even if there had been a stove.

Mary set about changing these things. She found things in trash piles and the city dump. Nobody but Mary would have thought of making tables and chairs and desks from the old crates she picked up and brought home. Behind the hotels on the beach she found cracked dishes, old lamps, even some old clothes. She took them home too. Everything was scoured and mended and used. "Keep things clean and neat" was her motto then; and as long as she lived the pupils in her school had to live up to that motto.

Her little pupils had no pencils. They wrote with pieces of charcoal made from burned logs. Their ink was elderberry juice. What good was ink or a pencil if there was no paper to write on? Mary took care of that too.

Every time she went to the store to get a little food, or a few pots and pans, she had each article wrapped separately. The pieces of wrapping paper were carefully removed and smoothed out. The little girls used this paper to write their lessons with their charcoal pencils.

She needed a cookstove very badly but she couldn't pay for one. What should she do? Her little pupils had to have warm food.

Unexpectedly, the problem was solved for her. One day a wrinkled old white neighbor said to her, "Can you read?"

Mary said, "Yes."

"Then will you read me this letter from my son? I can't find my glasses."

Mary read the letter to her.

"Thanks," said the mother.

Mary turned to go. "You're welcome."

The old woman stood by her open door and thought a moment. Then she said, "I got an old cookstove and I don't need it. Would you want it?"