aware that her race would keep her from gaining admission, even if her character and intellectual capacity were worthy. She was, without question, her grammar school’s most promising student, and because of her academic standing, she had grown quite close to her teachers, and felt more kinship to them than to her peers. It was in this phase of intellectual curiosity, a year before she entered the Girls’ High School, that she spoke to someone other than family about Vassar.
It was her seventh-year teacher at the Prince School, a stern yet well-meaning woman from a long line of Bostonians, who listened to Anita as she disclosed her desire to attend Vassar with the intention of becoming a teacher herself. With remorse, she informed her dedicated pupil that attending Vassar was out of the question for a Negro woman and urged Anita to consider Wellesley or the newly founded Radcliffe College.
Shocked by the news, as Anita had thought Cora knew the truth about her race, she shared the brutal admissions policy with her mother. The following Sunday, Dora Hemmings confided in her close circle at the church. Her extremely bright daughter had had her dreams stamped out. It was within that supportive community that a young woman named Margaret Marshall—Mame to her friends—pulled Anita aside after worship and told her that of course there was a way. Very light-skinned herself, she recounted to Anita how she had passed as white to attend the good grammar and high school down in Christiansburg, Virginia,walking ten miles a day and lying to everyone about her race so that she could learn to read and write, unlike her siblings.
“Passing to continue your education, to better your mind at the best school in America is not something you should look at shamefully.It is not an escape,” Mame had said while speaking to Anita in private. “People may try to scare you, carry on about psychological repercussions and betrayal, but I do not regret what I did. To live life without the Negro marker by your name, even for a short period of time, can expand your world. It’s something you should consider, Anita.”
In the community of Roxbury, where the complexions ranged from dark to light, the subject of passing was often heard in conversation. Some believed it was the ultimate sin against the Negro race, and others—those who had relatives who had passed or had passed themselves—saw it as an occasional necessity. “They make us pass,” Mame had said. “If they would give us good schools, any rights at all, then we wouldn’t even have to consider it, would we? People escaped slavery through passing, saved their own lives, the lives of their families. It’s not all just a traitor’s behavior to live an easier existence. Anita, please heed my advice: do not waste your strong mind because some might disagree with the practice, might chastise you. When one passes for a higher purpose, it’s worth it. Go on and prove to those Vassar women that we can be them, too.”
At fifteen years old, Anita hadn’t fully understood the strength of Mame’s words or the varying perspectives of her community on passing, but she was no stranger to the concept, having often been mistaken as white when she was without family or friends in Boston. And she knew stories of women who had passed to improve their positions in the world, and had heard them labeled as weak, as defectors, butit was the first time she ever considered passing herself. For education, thought Anita, it felt right.
When she shared Mame Marshall’s idea with her parents that evening, an idea that she had quickly embraced, they agreed. A Vassar education was worth lying for.
Anita still held that conviction close to her heart and she let the powerful memories accompany her as she and Lottie approached the school. The hansom soon deposited both women in front of Fay House, the building that housed every aspect of life at Radcliffe. With its mere three floors, it resembled an
It was her seventh-year teacher at the Prince School, a stern yet well-meaning woman from a long line of Bostonians, who listened to Anita as she disclosed her desire to attend Vassar with the intention of becoming a teacher herself. With remorse, she informed her dedicated pupil that attending Vassar was out of the question for a Negro woman and urged Anita to consider Wellesley or the newly founded Radcliffe College.
Shocked by the news, as Anita had thought Cora knew the truth about her race, she shared the brutal admissions policy with her mother. The following Sunday, Dora Hemmings confided in her close circle at the church. Her extremely bright daughter had had her dreams stamped out. It was within that supportive community that a young woman named Margaret Marshall—Mame to her friends—pulled Anita aside after worship and told her that of course there was a way. Very light-skinned herself, she recounted to Anita how she had passed as white to attend the good grammar and high school down in Christiansburg, Virginia,walking ten miles a day and lying to everyone about her race so that she could learn to read and write, unlike her siblings.
“Passing to continue your education, to better your mind at the best school in America is not something you should look at shamefully.It is not an escape,” Mame had said while speaking to Anita in private. “People may try to scare you, carry on about psychological repercussions and betrayal, but I do not regret what I did. To live life without the Negro marker by your name, even for a short period of time, can expand your world. It’s something you should consider, Anita.”
In the community of Roxbury, where the complexions ranged from dark to light, the subject of passing was often heard in conversation. Some believed it was the ultimate sin against the Negro race, and others—those who had relatives who had passed or had passed themselves—saw it as an occasional necessity. “They make us pass,” Mame had said. “If they would give us good schools, any rights at all, then we wouldn’t even have to consider it, would we? People escaped slavery through passing, saved their own lives, the lives of their families. It’s not all just a traitor’s behavior to live an easier existence. Anita, please heed my advice: do not waste your strong mind because some might disagree with the practice, might chastise you. When one passes for a higher purpose, it’s worth it. Go on and prove to those Vassar women that we can be them, too.”
At fifteen years old, Anita hadn’t fully understood the strength of Mame’s words or the varying perspectives of her community on passing, but she was no stranger to the concept, having often been mistaken as white when she was without family or friends in Boston. And she knew stories of women who had passed to improve their positions in the world, and had heard them labeled as weak, as defectors, butit was the first time she ever considered passing herself. For education, thought Anita, it felt right.
When she shared Mame Marshall’s idea with her parents that evening, an idea that she had quickly embraced, they agreed. A Vassar education was worth lying for.
Anita still held that conviction close to her heart and she let the powerful memories accompany her as she and Lottie approached the school. The hansom soon deposited both women in front of Fay House, the building that housed every aspect of life at Radcliffe. With its mere three floors, it resembled an
Similar Books
