Courage, Dreamers, and Children of Promise: Ideals Forged over a Century Ago Prove Just as Challenging to Sustain Today

2009; SAGE Publishing; Volume: 91; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês

ISSN

1940-6487

Autores

BobAnn Starnes,

Tópico(s)

Indigenous and Place-Based Education

Resumo

My cousin Mickey lived with his mother, Leona, on a narrow strip of bottom land so remote that only people who found way to their front porch were either kin or outsiders lost in tangle of roads that wind through dense Appalachian Mountains. Mick, a dreamer and visionary, was renowned for his problem-solving abilities. For example, one summer day in 1955, he wanted to visit my cousin Larry, who lived on other side of mountain. But it was too hot to trudge up steep mountainside and back down into hollow where Larry lived. That's when Mick, then 8, got his brilliant idea. He would blast a road through mountain. Not long after idea struck, Leona got a call from dry goods storeowner. Mrs. Fouts, he asked, Are you sure you want Mickey to buy nitric acid and glycerin? You know, if he mixes them, they will explode. He returned home empty-handed, but today Mickey, now a physicist, likes to point out that highway department adopted his idea-40 years later. That was way it was with Mickey. Even then, I knew he was a child of great promise. A hundred years earlier and what seemed like a world away, a young preacher, John G. Fee, spoke words so blasphemous that he was dragged from his pulpit and threatened with lynching. His crime? This well-educated, slave-owner's son fervently proselytized what he called the doctrine of impartial love. The doctrine required that all people--regardless of race--be treated equally. Christians, Fee insisted, were called to love their neighbors as themselves, even if their neighbors had dark skin. And that meant equality, only in Kingdom of Heaven, but here on Earth. In early 1850s, Fee's demands made even most staunch abolitionists nervous. Slavery was wrong, they agreed, but equality? Living and going to school together, developing friendships, and perhaps even marriage? No, that was too much. In time, Fee, by then disowned by his father, joined with fellow dreamers to start a school where impartial love would be lived--a school to educate only students' minds, but also their hearts and consciences not merely in a knowledge of sciences ... but also in principles of love ... liberty, and justice. The student body would be made up of young black and white men and women of limited means, and education would be tuition free. Their dream was realized when Berea College became first coeducational and integrated school south of Mason-Dixon. The founders won financial support from donors who saw giving to fledgling school as a way to build a lasting legacy. Soon, bequests were used to establish Berea's tuitionreplacement fund. In 1920s, board made practice a policy. From then on, all unrestricted bequests were placed in endowment, thus ensuring that funds would always be available for deserving students. And that's why Mickey and his remarkable vision and intellect were able to travel narrow, winding roads out of Eastern Kentucky to Berea College and become one of thousands of young people to earn a tuition-free education--an education that changed his life. The path college traveled hasn't been without trials. The school was forced to close during Civil War. And when a 1907 Supreme Court decision allowed enforcement of Kentucky's Day Law--specifically legislated to force Berea to segregate--the college founded Lincoln Institute to continue educating black students. Recently, when college financial wizards projected that rising costs could threaten continued tuition replacement, discussions began about how this challenge could be addressed in future. But suddenly, in fall of 2008, future became present when 25% of $1.2 billion endowment was lost almost overnight. …

Referência(s)