The Struggle is Real
That Time I Almost Gave Up
Works of Booker T. Washington
During Black History Month, I used to select a different icon of the Civil Rights Movement to discuss with my students. My most favorite icon to discuss was Booker T. Washington and here's why...
Back to School
When I was in my late thirties, I decided to return to college and finish my degree. It was a difficult decision because my son was only eight and my husband was our sole provider. We didn't have a lot of money, so I took a job at our church as a janitor to help with gas money and my art supplies. We lived in a small apartment. I had to use our kitchen as my art studio to complete my assignments.
It was not a good time to be me. I understood that I brought all this on myself. Had I simply gotten a full time job, we could have had a house, money, and space! You never realize how important space is until it's gone.
But, my lack of a college education had haunted me. It hovered over everything I did like a little black cloud. For me, success=completion. The fact that I never completed my degree made me feel like a failure.
So, when I had the chance to do it, I dove in, head first. And when I had reached my tipping point, I said, "Enough!"
It happened one night. I walked through the door near midnight after being at the computer lab all day, only to find a handwritten note from my son begging me to wake him and kiss him because he missed me. I swallowed back the tears, went to the table, and began working on my homework that was due the next day.
"What am I doing?" I sat there with my head in my hands, tears dripping onto my workbook, trying to figure out what my life was and how it didn't turn out like I had imagined it would.
"I don't need this," I cried. "I miss my son, I miss my husband, I miss having a house..." I stared at my many course folders sprawled out on the kitchen table and all the art supplies scattered around the apartment. "I should just quit, get a full time job, and live again. This is ridiculous. Here I am doing all this and for what? A piece of paper I can frame and hang on my wall?"
I set aside my Spanish homework and made my decision. "Yes, that's it. I am done. I will drop out of college in the morning." The decision felt great! I could breathe again.
I spied my American Literature folder nearby. "But first, I'll finish my last piece of homework." That's the kind of student that I was!
Crazy.
I opened the American Literature folder, read the syllabus, and pulled out the assignment: Read "A Struggle for an Education" by Booker T. Washington and then critique it.
"Easy enough..." I started reading this essay. And as I read it, my heart sank.
Here was this young man, a former slave, walking almost 500 miles to attend college and I'm complaining about sitting in my cozy apartment doing homework?
He wasn't allowed to eat at restaurants or sleep in a hotel because of the color of his skin. He slept on the sidewalks. When he arrived at the college, he had to work as a janitor to pay his tuition. My eyes welled with tears.
He graduated with his Masters at age 19 and then went on to found the Tuskegee Institute, building it brick by brick with his own two hands...all at age 25.
I couldn't believe it.
As I wept through the rest of his amazing essay, I could see how whiny I was being. So, I got up and emailed my American Literature professor what I had just experienced. I explained to him how I was about to quit college because of how hard it was to be away from my family. I wrote about how exhausted I was from working as a janitor during the day, scrubbing toilets and mopping up vomit, just to head to campus and be there until night.
When I finished explaining, I then thanked him for assigning Booker T. Washington's essay to read. It changed my life. I hit send and hoped my professor felt appreciated.
He did.
About five minutes later, he replied that he, too, was sick and tired of work. He didn't think any of his students understood what he was trying to teach. He was about to quit, retire, walk away from it all because of frustration.
And then he read my email.
So, just when you want to quit, stop and reassess why you started something in the first place. Things may not be as bad as you think they are. Someone always has it worse than you do...much worse.
I finished my degree and graduated with honors. I then went on to complete my Masters degree. I went from being a janitor to teaching in a college classroom, doing my best to inspire students not to quit!
The struggle for an education is real. All things worthwhile are worth the struggle.
Stay the course...keep the faith...overcome...and don't quit.
Up from Slavery
Like Booker T. Washington once wrote:
"Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome."
Amen!
Works of Booker T. Washington
During Black History Month, I used to select a different icon of the Civil Rights Movement to discuss with my students. My most favorite icon to discuss was Booker T. Washington and here's why...
Back to School
When I was in my late thirties, I decided to return to college and finish my degree. It was a difficult decision because my son was only eight and my husband was our sole provider. We didn't have a lot of money, so I took a job at our church as a janitor to help with gas money and my art supplies. We lived in a small apartment. I had to use our kitchen as my art studio to complete my assignments.
It was not a good time to be me. I understood that I brought all this on myself. Had I simply gotten a full time job, we could have had a house, money, and space! You never realize how important space is until it's gone.
But, my lack of a college education had haunted me. It hovered over everything I did like a little black cloud. For me, success=completion. The fact that I never completed my degree made me feel like a failure.
So, when I had the chance to do it, I dove in, head first. And when I had reached my tipping point, I said, "Enough!"
It happened one night. I walked through the door near midnight after being at the computer lab all day, only to find a handwritten note from my son begging me to wake him and kiss him because he missed me. I swallowed back the tears, went to the table, and began working on my homework that was due the next day.
"What am I doing?" I sat there with my head in my hands, tears dripping onto my workbook, trying to figure out what my life was and how it didn't turn out like I had imagined it would.
"I don't need this," I cried. "I miss my son, I miss my husband, I miss having a house..." I stared at my many course folders sprawled out on the kitchen table and all the art supplies scattered around the apartment. "I should just quit, get a full time job, and live again. This is ridiculous. Here I am doing all this and for what? A piece of paper I can frame and hang on my wall?"
I set aside my Spanish homework and made my decision. "Yes, that's it. I am done. I will drop out of college in the morning." The decision felt great! I could breathe again.
I spied my American Literature folder nearby. "But first, I'll finish my last piece of homework." That's the kind of student that I was!
Crazy.
I opened the American Literature folder, read the syllabus, and pulled out the assignment: Read "A Struggle for an Education" by Booker T. Washington and then critique it.
"Easy enough..." I started reading this essay. And as I read it, my heart sank.
Here was this young man, a former slave, walking almost 500 miles to attend college and I'm complaining about sitting in my cozy apartment doing homework?
He wasn't allowed to eat at restaurants or sleep in a hotel because of the color of his skin. He slept on the sidewalks. When he arrived at the college, he had to work as a janitor to pay his tuition. My eyes welled with tears.
He graduated with his Masters at age 19 and then went on to found the Tuskegee Institute, building it brick by brick with his own two hands...all at age 25.
I couldn't believe it.
As I wept through the rest of his amazing essay, I could see how whiny I was being. So, I got up and emailed my American Literature professor what I had just experienced. I explained to him how I was about to quit college because of how hard it was to be away from my family. I wrote about how exhausted I was from working as a janitor during the day, scrubbing toilets and mopping up vomit, just to head to campus and be there until night.
When I finished explaining, I then thanked him for assigning Booker T. Washington's essay to read. It changed my life. I hit send and hoped my professor felt appreciated.
He did.
About five minutes later, he replied that he, too, was sick and tired of work. He didn't think any of his students understood what he was trying to teach. He was about to quit, retire, walk away from it all because of frustration.
And then he read my email.
So, just when you want to quit, stop and reassess why you started something in the first place. Things may not be as bad as you think they are. Someone always has it worse than you do...much worse.
I finished my degree and graduated with honors. I then went on to complete my Masters degree. I went from being a janitor to teaching in a college classroom, doing my best to inspire students not to quit!
The struggle for an education is real. All things worthwhile are worth the struggle.
Stay the course...keep the faith...overcome...and don't quit.
Up from Slavery
Like Booker T. Washington once wrote:
"Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome."
Amen!
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