Miss Mary Taylor
Miss Mary Taylor did not take a college course for the purpose of teaching Negroes. Not that she objected to Negroes as human beings‚ÅÝ‚Äîquite the contrary. In the debate between the senior societies her defence of the Fifteenth Amendment had been not only a notable bit of reasoning, but delivered with real enthusiasm. Nevertheless, when the end of the summer came and the only opening facing her was the teaching of children at Miss Smith‚Äôs experiment in the Alabama swamps, it must be frankly confessed that Miss Taylor was disappointed.
Her dream had been a postgraduate course at Bryn Mawr; but that was out of the question until money was earned. She had pictured herself earning this by teaching one or two of her ‚Äúspecialties‚Äù in some private school near New York or Boston, or even in a Western college. The South she had not thought of seriously; and yet, knowing of its delightful hospitality and mild climate, she was not averse to Charleston or New Orleans. But from the offer that came to teach Negroes‚ÅÝ‚Äîcountry Negroes, and little ones at that‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe shrank, and, indeed, probably would have refused it out of hand had it not been for her queer brother, John. John Taylor, who had supported her through college, was interested in cotton. Having certain schemes in mind, he had been struck by the fact that the Smith School was in the midst of the Alabama cotton-belt.
“Better go,” he had counselled, sententiously. “Might learn something useful down there.”
She had been not a little dismayed by the outlook, and had protested against his blunt insistence.