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Library of American Biography
Booker T. Washington and the Negro's Place in American Life
Booker T. Washington and Education by Stephen Currie. Lucent Books,2009
212 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1955
25 people want to read
About the author
Samuel R. Spencer, Jr.
7 books1 followerSamuel Reid Spencer, Jr. was the 14th president of Davidson College. Originally from South Carolina, Spencer graduated from Davidson in 1940 and earrned his Ph.D. at Harvard University after serving in the U.S. Army in World War II.
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February 2, 2026
Few things are less controllable than one’s historical reputation. A person’s posthumous standing only begins with their actions during their lifetime; once they’re gone, what follows is not just determined by their impact on events, but the events that followed after their death and the values applied by subsequent generations to assessing that individual’s legacy. Actions once condemned can thus become laudatory, while some may face retroactive criticism for choices that were celebrated in their lifetime.
One example of this in American history is that of Booker T. Washington. In his own day the formerly enslaved person became a national figure through his unceasing efforts to create educational opportunities for Blacks in the post-Civil War American South. In his heyday he spoke before packed halls and his statements on the matters of the day received wide coverage in the press. In the decades after his death, however, his approach became subject to increasing criticism for its perceived acceptance of inequality and the Jim Crow regime. For all that Washington did, to his critics it clearly wasn’t enough.
Samuel Spencer would not count himself amongst that crowd. In his judgment, Washington “did what was possible, given the time and place in which he lived, and did it to the utmost.” And in his assessment, what Washington achieved was considerable. By the time of his death in 1915, he had turned an unpromising grant of $2,000 and a few borrowed buildings in Tuskegee, Alabama, into an enormously successful vocational and teacher training school for Black Americans. The Tuskegee Institute embodied his conviction that, in the wake of emancipation, Blacks needed to focus on building an economic base for their advancement by acquiring the skills needed to succeed in agriculture and industry. Success in the economic realm would break down the prejudices holding back social and political advancement, allowing Black Americans to attain true equality with whites.
Washington’s message won him an appreciative audience in Gilded Age America. For many Blacks it offered an achievable path to prosperity and success. For many Northern whites, it was a reflection and continuation of their own charitable efforts for the freedmen after the Civil War. And for many Southern whites, it was an offer to serve a role in Southern life which they could accept. These groups united in praise for Washington’s efforts, and anointed him as the representative of Black Americans in the national discourse.
Yet not everyone agreed with Washington’s vision for “his people.” Many who attended Tuskegee wanted more than a life behind a plow or in front of a lathe. Some Blacks challenged Washington’s concession of temporary second-class status in the Jim Crow South, and demanded that he use his position to push for civil and political equality. The most forceful among the latter was W. E. B. Du Bois, whose career embodied much that Washington criticized and who served as the central figure in the emergence in the early 1900s of organized civil rights campaigning. Washington’s dominance of the leadership of Black Americans, though, hindered the effectiveness of these efforts, for which Spencer faults him.
By singling out this monopolization as the most justified critique of Washington’s legacy, however, Spencer downplays two far more important flaws he identifies, both of which were rooted in Washington’s failure to acknowledge the broader changes taking place in the United States. The first was his outdated economic vision, which was more attuned to antebellum economy than the modern one. Machines were increasingly replacing people both on the farms and in the factories, reducing the demand for the skilled craftspeople and agricultural laborers Washington was committed to turning out. This was a visible challenge throughout his time as president of Tuskegee, yet one he did little to address.
The second and more problematic one is Washington’s assumption of the goodwill of whites. Washington became an educator at a time when upper-class whites from the antebellum era still dominated Southern politics. Washington’s belief that whites would accept Blacks who demonstrated that they deserved such respect was premised in part on the paternalistic response of this group to his ideas, which posed little challenge to their status. As the century drew to an end, however, they were increasingly succeeded by more populist figures, who depended on the support of white voters who feared that Black success threatened their social and economic status. Genteel tolerance was replaced by race-baiting, to which Washington struggled to respond, especially as it undermined the premise of his philosophy.
That Spencer tempers his criticism of Washington can be at least partly explained by his partisanship for his subject, which is evident throughout the book. It also dates his work almost as much as does his fusty use of “Negro” throughout the text. What is presented as a realistic approach to the problems of race in America would appear increasingly outdated in the civil rights era that was just dawning when the book was published. It would be unfair to criticize Spencer for not anticipating what was to come, but the effect is the same nevertheless. Because of this, its reputation mirrors that of its subject, making it very much a work of its time rather than one that has aged well.
One example of this in American history is that of Booker T. Washington. In his own day the formerly enslaved person became a national figure through his unceasing efforts to create educational opportunities for Blacks in the post-Civil War American South. In his heyday he spoke before packed halls and his statements on the matters of the day received wide coverage in the press. In the decades after his death, however, his approach became subject to increasing criticism for its perceived acceptance of inequality and the Jim Crow regime. For all that Washington did, to his critics it clearly wasn’t enough.
Samuel Spencer would not count himself amongst that crowd. In his judgment, Washington “did what was possible, given the time and place in which he lived, and did it to the utmost.” And in his assessment, what Washington achieved was considerable. By the time of his death in 1915, he had turned an unpromising grant of $2,000 and a few borrowed buildings in Tuskegee, Alabama, into an enormously successful vocational and teacher training school for Black Americans. The Tuskegee Institute embodied his conviction that, in the wake of emancipation, Blacks needed to focus on building an economic base for their advancement by acquiring the skills needed to succeed in agriculture and industry. Success in the economic realm would break down the prejudices holding back social and political advancement, allowing Black Americans to attain true equality with whites.
Washington’s message won him an appreciative audience in Gilded Age America. For many Blacks it offered an achievable path to prosperity and success. For many Northern whites, it was a reflection and continuation of their own charitable efforts for the freedmen after the Civil War. And for many Southern whites, it was an offer to serve a role in Southern life which they could accept. These groups united in praise for Washington’s efforts, and anointed him as the representative of Black Americans in the national discourse.
Yet not everyone agreed with Washington’s vision for “his people.” Many who attended Tuskegee wanted more than a life behind a plow or in front of a lathe. Some Blacks challenged Washington’s concession of temporary second-class status in the Jim Crow South, and demanded that he use his position to push for civil and political equality. The most forceful among the latter was W. E. B. Du Bois, whose career embodied much that Washington criticized and who served as the central figure in the emergence in the early 1900s of organized civil rights campaigning. Washington’s dominance of the leadership of Black Americans, though, hindered the effectiveness of these efforts, for which Spencer faults him.
By singling out this monopolization as the most justified critique of Washington’s legacy, however, Spencer downplays two far more important flaws he identifies, both of which were rooted in Washington’s failure to acknowledge the broader changes taking place in the United States. The first was his outdated economic vision, which was more attuned to antebellum economy than the modern one. Machines were increasingly replacing people both on the farms and in the factories, reducing the demand for the skilled craftspeople and agricultural laborers Washington was committed to turning out. This was a visible challenge throughout his time as president of Tuskegee, yet one he did little to address.
The second and more problematic one is Washington’s assumption of the goodwill of whites. Washington became an educator at a time when upper-class whites from the antebellum era still dominated Southern politics. Washington’s belief that whites would accept Blacks who demonstrated that they deserved such respect was premised in part on the paternalistic response of this group to his ideas, which posed little challenge to their status. As the century drew to an end, however, they were increasingly succeeded by more populist figures, who depended on the support of white voters who feared that Black success threatened their social and economic status. Genteel tolerance was replaced by race-baiting, to which Washington struggled to respond, especially as it undermined the premise of his philosophy.
That Spencer tempers his criticism of Washington can be at least partly explained by his partisanship for his subject, which is evident throughout the book. It also dates his work almost as much as does his fusty use of “Negro” throughout the text. What is presented as a realistic approach to the problems of race in America would appear increasingly outdated in the civil rights era that was just dawning when the book was published. It would be unfair to criticize Spencer for not anticipating what was to come, but the effect is the same nevertheless. Because of this, its reputation mirrors that of its subject, making it very much a work of its time rather than one that has aged well.
Displaying 1 of 1 review