By Robert Woodson & Will Crossley
As schools, corporations, and government agencies all over the country celebrate Juneteenth, the commemoration of the ending of slavery, many will be reminded of and saturated with horrific stories that black people had to face before and after they were freed. Unfortunately, this will be the only part of history that is likely to be shared: the violent hostility and mistreatment towards blacks, and the little or no economic and educational opportunities they faced.
It’s scary to think that many historical figures buried in our past, such as Laurence Jones, may only have part of their stories told. In 1918, Jones, a black man in Mississippi , was about to be lynched when his persecutors told him he had one last chance to speak for himself. His crime: teaching poor black children to read under a cedar tree. So, Laurence Jones uttered what he thought would be his last words, and told them about the Piney Woods Country Life School that he’d established in Piney Woods, Mississippi.
He spoke about educational uplift, dignity, and liberty for black children. He also described the charity and goodness of the white men in their community who had vouched for his mission. He moved the men who had gathered to kill him so deeply, that they passed around a hat to collect funds for his school. Jones raised $52 for his school that night.
Astonishingly, Jones didn’t ever reflect on this moment with bitterness or anger. “I have no time to quarrel, and no time for regrets, and no man can force me to stoop low enough to hate him,” he remarked later in his life.
Jones embodied a number of remarkable traits, all at once: responsibility, humility, self-respect, grit, and prudence. All of these qualities helped him forge the relationships necessary to found Piney Woods and bring it to maturation over time. His vision and character made possible the emancipation of countless young black men and women — not from slavery, this time, but from ignorance.
In order to understand his legacy and the legacy of Piney Woods correctly, a few things must be made clear. Firstly, the liberty Jones sought to offer black children in an impoverished Jim Crow-era South was not absolute. The rights he sought to secure for them were informed by duties — their freedom, tempered by responsibilities.
From Jones’ very first lessons — taught outdoors from fallen logs — to the classes students attend at Piney Woods today, this crucial balance remains at the forefront. Freedom and responsibility are bedfellows. To whom much is given, much is required . The students of Piney Woods are reminded of their responsibilities daily.
Additionally, Jones eschewed narratives of victimhood. The mission that drove his days was too important for him to fall into self-righteousness or even to seek retribution. In its own way, the mission of every child who attends Piney Woods is the same.
Take, for example, the story of a young girl who was so desperate for freedom through education that she walked miles every week to attend Piney Woods. Her mother had died, so she cared for her siblings and father on the weekends. With time, she wore her shoes out. She wrapped her feet in burlap and kept walking. Her story is not just one of hardship, nor is her suffering the most important thing about her. Rather, her triumph is what has and will continue to define her life.
The same is true of the children at Piney Woods today. They continue to make sacrifices and to take responsibility for their futures. They do so willingly. They achieve real excellence in spite of sometimes extreme disadvantages. They embody, just as Jones did, the very best of what America’s values represent.
They also embody, as Jones did, the challenges of black American children. He founded a school in the state with the lowest rate of literacy and the highest rate of lynchings, and it still flourished. In every child’s education, we confront and overcome the moral and spiritual challenges of our nation. In every child’s education, we re-assert that the story of black American children is one of triumph and perseverance.
Piney Woods is one of the few living memorials to our spirit of resilience. It has endured cultural revolutions, moral upheavals, and political shifts in the broader society. It has remained unwavering in its commitment to moral and intellectual excellence. Its teachers remain committed to fostering such excellence even for the most challenging or disadvantaged students.
In Piney Woods, we see an eddy in black American culture where we are given the chance to relive our victory over oppression every day, again and again, with the success of every student. These sorts of stories and places are exceedingly rare, but they have never been more important.
Our culture is so often focused on retelling stories of victimhood, hurt, failure, and evil. But these stories focus on retribution and cultivate hatred and mistrust while reliving the oppression. Juneteenth offers an opportunity to shift the narrative from the many abhorrent examples of racism in American history.
The evils of racism are real. They are important to recall. But they are not the complete story, morally or historically. Merely retelling these stories fails to offer us a solution.
Jones knew what we’ve so quickly forgotten: No man can force you to stoop low enough to hate him. He knew that indulging hatred would degrade him and distract from his mission to build real solutions to the evil he faced.
Bob Woodson is founder and president of the Woodson Center. Dr. Will Crossley is president of the Piney Woods School.