Since returning to East Texas in the fall of 2003, I've had conversations with many people about many things. I have encountered many extraordinary individuals.
After returning home to East Texas, these wonderful people have assisted me in pursuing one of my passions in life — researching and recording the rich heritage of African-Americans in East Texas.
One aspect of this research includes connecting the puzzle pieces, unraveling my own East Texas family history. What a joy it has been to find the missing parts of my family puzzle. Another has been to discover many African-Americans in East Texas who have made positive contributions to education and business in the black community. It is my goal to share their stories in articles, brochures and books.
People have asked me, "Why do you care about old stuff and people of the past?" I have answered that question many times, that for the most part, it appears that this information has gone unnoticed or has not been embraced by the black community. This intensifies my passion to share the information and stories in our community. I believe that the more positive things we know about ourselves, the more we will love, respect and appreciate ourselves.
I am an avid reader, thanks to my mother, who read and insisted that her children read and "Get your lessons." It would be wonderful if all mothers would read and insist that their children do the same. This is not to suggest or expect that all black mothers will be the same, because all people do not have the same experiences, therefore, they may not have the same values. With that said, let me explain that I have two brothers that read the newspaper consistently. My younger brother reads everything that I have ever written, because he is my biggest fan. My older brother reads geography books and loves to tell you about every town and country and its population. My younger sister is a reader, writer and family historian. In research of our patriarchal side of the family, she discovered that our great-grandmother, Helen Devereux, was born on the Monte Verde Plantation near Laneville. We now know that Helen's mother and grandmother came with the Devereux family from Alabama and Georgia in the early 1800's.
Another layer of my research is to recall and share my own experiences while growing up in East Texas. In an earlier column, I shared one experience with racism as a child. Other experiences came about very slowly because my childhood was generally very sheltered from the pain of direct discrimination. The full impact of the civil rights movement came to life on our family television.
I was a young teen when I was shocked by the realization of the extent of bigotry and racism. Seeing black people attacked by dogs and fire hoses on television, it was unbelievable to me and I was not able to understand why this was happening, or how it could happen. I was more bewildered when I saw policeman beating people with clubs. My mother watched intently, slowly explaining that it was because "they were black."
She knew that her answer did not satisfy me, so she would often leave the room and tell me she would talk about it later. Later never came, because apparently she realized that she could not explain what was happening in a way that I would understand or accept.
My father's way of dealing with the situation was to walk away with his lips pressed tightly. Eventually, I was able to find answers for myself but I never understood nor accepted how I saw black people being treated. During this entire period, my mother and father never allowed me to not be proud of my "blackness." I recall one day after seeing these awful scenes on TV, I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought, "I would rather be black and suffer than be white and cause this kind of suffering." Then and now, I realize that all whites were not mean to all black people. I make it a point to share that many whites suffered along with us. For some, if they happen to be part of the black movement, they could have been arrested, beaten and killed and some of them met this fate, unfortunately.
When I entered college in 1958, my parents enrolled me, or so I thought, at Texas College. I was really enrolled at Tyler Junior College. I found this out accidentally when I carried my parents' check to the business manager.
The assistant at the window could not find my name on the student list so she called the business manager to the window. He asked me if I was a Tyler Junior College student. I was angry and said, "You know I can't go to Tyler Junior College, plus it is across town and I am here at Texas College."
He mumbled under his breath, "Folks don't tell these children anything." He told his assistant, "If you don't find their name on this list, look on the other list." I was finally able to give him the check and get a receipt, not noticing that it had Texas College stamped on it. I was totally confused and went down the hall and asked a relative of mine who worked on the campus to tell me what was going on.
She explained that the law said any qualified student black or white could enroll for Tyler Junior College but black students had to attend classes on the Texas College campus. We were still under the separate but equal rule, meaning blacks could not integrate Tyler Junior College but they could take Tyler Junior College classes at the black college.
I later found out the paper work reflected who was enrolled at Tyler Junior College merely for accounting purposes. When I think back, TJC at this time would not claim black students anyway so it was a satisfactory arrangement for both colleges. My parents said they were told that I would pay less money to go to Texas College because I lived in Tyler. They did not fully understand nor did they ask anything else. When I entered Texas College as a junior after completing the first two years at TJC, my tuition went up and then they understood.
Later, I married my college sweetheart and we moved to Berkeley, Calif., where we had three children. It was during this time that many of the riots protesting civil rights and discrimination broke out in many cities. We watched the news on television and read newspaper articles about the struggles in the South. It was also during this time that we decided we wanted to return home, be a part of the struggle and raise our children in the South. We did just that, living most of our adult life in the Atlanta, Ga. area.
The first task after returning to East Texas was to begin collecting as much African-American history as possible. The next challenge will be to bring all the information together. My final goal is to leave written information on the lives and stories of East Texas African-Americans so that our children and grandchildren will know about such contributions.
The final challenge is to encourage African-Americans to read and embrace our history while encouraging their children to do the same.
