of this has had the effect to establish among the slaves the maxim, that a still tongue makes a wise head. They suppress the truth rather than take the consequences of telling it, and in so doing, prove themselves part of the human family. If they have anything to say of their masters, it is generally in their masters' favor, especially when speaking to an untried man. I have frequently been asked, when a slave, if I had a kind master, and do not remember to have ever given a negative answer; nor did I, when pursuing this course, consider myself as uttering what was absolutely false; for I always measured the kindness of my master by the kindness set up among the slaveholders around us. Moreover, slaves are like other people, and imbue prejudices quite common to others. They think their own better than that of others."
He saw the naked truth, and as I read his words, can't help but to think that he was destined to learn to read and write, if for no other reason than he was the witness to history at a moment in time when a compassionate, literate witness, in command of great powers of observation, living inside the nightmare that was slavery, was needed. He later wrote these words:
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"I look upon my departure from Colonel Lloyd's plantation as one of the most interesting events of my life. It is possible, and even quite probable, that but for the mere cicumstance of being removed from that plantation to Baltimore, I should have to-day, instead of being here seated by my own table, in the enjoyment of freedom and the happiness of home, writing this Narrative, been confined in the galling chains of slavery. Going to live at Baltimore laid the foudation, and opened the gateway, to all my subsequent prosperity."
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To my mind, the one the most remarkable achievements of Frederick Douglass, among all his remarkable achievements, was the tenacious and single-minded determination he maintained while in pursuit of understanding how to read and write, and the real purpose of this post is to show just how remarkable the effort Frederick Douglass made to that end. And the irony is not lost on me; here was a man whose world was wholly constructed around the fact that he enjoyed absolutely none of the civil rights afforded American citizens, and almost every word spoken to him was a command, and yet, the only real command that held any value or importance to him in his mind was the command he gave himself, from somewhere deep inside, which was, simply, this:
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I am going to learn how to read and write.
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And as I read his words, I couldn't help but to think about the Little Rock Nine, and how they needed the protection of the 101st Airborne of the United States Army, just for the right to go to school, almost exactly one hundred years later, in 1957.
My intentions here is to bring the words of Frederick Douglass to you, the reader, who may or may not be familiar with them, but whom, I hope, will see the undisputed value of his priceless Narrative, and especially, see his words in this context:
This man almost didn't get the chance to learn to read and write at all...
Let us continue following and learning about Frederick Douglass, and his mighty and inspiring story of his very personal pursuit of Life, Liberty, and Happiness...
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He wrote:
"I lived at Master Hugh's family about seven years [from about the age of eight to the age of fourteen]. During this time, I succeeded in learning to read and write. In accomplishing this, I was compelled to resort to various strategems. I had no regular teacher. My mistress, who had kindly commenced to instrust me, had, in compliance with the advice and direction of her husband, not only ceased to instruct, but had set her face against my being instructed by any one else. It is due, however, to my mistress, that she did not adopt this course of treatment immediately. She at first lacked the depravity indespensible to shutting me up to mental darkness. It was at least necessary for her to have some training in the exercise of irresponsible power, to make her equal to the task of treating me as though I were a brute."
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Frederick Douglass saw the mutually assured impossibility of a friendship between slaveholder and slave, and of the goodness and good will destroyed, solely caused by slavery, and longed for a time when he could express it in words.
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He wrote:
"My mistress [Sophia Auld], was, as I have said, a kind and tender-hearted woman; and in the simplicity of her soul, she commenced, when when I first went to live with her, to treat me as she supposed one human being ought to treat another. In entering upon the duties of a slaveholder, she did not seem to percieve that for her to treat me as a human being was not only wrong, but dangerously so. Slavery proved as injurious to her as it it did to me. When I went there, she was a pious, warm, and tender-hearted woman. There was no sorrow or suffering for which there was not a tear. She had bread for the hungry, clothes for the naked, and comfort for every mourner that came within her reach. Slavery soon proved its ability to divest her of these heavenly qualities. Under its influence, the tender heart became stone, and the lamblike disposition gave way to on of tiger-like fierceness. The first step in her downward course was in her ceasing to instruct me. She now commenced to practise her husband's precepts. She finally became even more violent in her opposition than her husband himself. She was not satisfied with doing simply as well as he had commanded; she seemed anxious to do better. Nothing seemed to make her more angry than to see me with a newspaper. She seemed to think that here lay the danger. I have had her rush at me with a face made all up of fury, and snatch from me a newspaper, in a manner that fully revealed her apprehension. She was an apt woman; and a little experience soon demonstrated, to her satisfaction, that education and slavery were incompatible with each other."
"From this time I was most narrowly watched. If I was in a separate room any considerable length of time, I was sure to be suspected of having a book, and was at once called to give an account of myself. All this, however, was too late. The first step had been taken. Mistress, in teaching me the alphabet, had given me the inch, and no precaution could prevent me from taking the ell.
"The plan which I adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of making friends with all the little white boys whom I met in the street. As many of these as I could, I converted into teachers. With their kindly aid, obtained at different times and in different places, I finally succeeded in learning to read. When I was sent of errands, I always took my book with me, and by going one part of my errand quickly, I found time to get a lesson before my return. I used also to carry bread with me, enough of which was always in the house, and to which I was always welcome; for I was much better off in this regard than many of the poor white children in our neighborhood. This bread I used to bestow upon the hungry little urchins, who, in return, would give me that more valuable bread of knowledge.
"I was now about twelve years old, and the thought of being a slave for life began to bear heavily upon my heart. Just about this time, I got hold of a book entitled "The Columbian Orator." Every opportunity I got, I read this book. Among much of other interesting matter, I found in it a dialogue between a master and his slave. The slave was represented as having run away from his master three times. The dialogue represented the conversation which took place between them, when the slave was retaken the third time. In this dialogue, the whole argument of slavery was brought forward by the master, all of which was disposed of by the slave. The calve was made to say some very smart as well as impressive things in reply to his master - things which had the desired though unexpected effect; for the conversation resulted in the voluntary emancipation of the slave on the part of the master.
"In the same book, I met with one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on and in behalf of Catholic emancipation. These were choice documents to me. I read them over and over again with unabated interest. They gave tongue to interesting thoughts of my own soul, which had frequently passed through my mind, and died away for want of utterance. The moral which I gained from the dialogue was the power of truth over the conscience of even a slaveholder. Wha
t I got from Sheridan was a bold denunciation of slavery, and a powerful vindication of human rights. The reading of these documents enabled me to utter my thoughts, and to meet the arguments brought forward to sustain slavery; but while they relieved me of one difficulty, they brought on another even more painful than the one of which I was relieved. The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest my enslavers. I could regard them in no other light than a band of successful robbers..."
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To my mind, the words of Frederick Douglass speak to me deeply, and somehow, have a striking and relevant modernism to them; they are almost Orwellian; yet, even so, somehow, I can relate to him in some deep and meaningful way, and even though he speaks of the utter inhumanity of racism and slavery, we somehow meet in an agreed upon place, a higher ground; a place that is free of the burdens of racism, a place that is beyond those who judge by the color of our skin, a place that is populated with my kind of people. And yet, as a firm believer that a certain amount of self-inflicted humility is healthy, he reaches out to me, too, at that level, and speaks of his doubts, his desperation, and, somehow, it is reassuring to me that, as great a man as he had these all too common traits that