W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington |
This "public debate" led me to think about the poem "Lift Every Voice and Sing!" written by James Weldon Johnson. I feel the poem strongly supports the philosophies and strategies of both men. Instead of contrasting and focusing on differences in philosophy, his poem beautifully combines Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois' philosophical struggles, anger, pride, hopes, visions, etc. and suggests all of our dreams are necessary for a better America.
James Weldon Johnson and J. Rosamund Johnson |
James Weldon Johnson (future Harlem Renaissance writer, NAACP leader) was a 29 year old educator at racially segregated Stanton School-Jacksonville, Florida when he was asked to prepare something for a celebration of Abraham Lincoln's birthday in 1900. He wrote "Lift Every Voice and Sing!" and asked his brother, J. Rosamond Johnson (a renowned Harlem Renaissance composer/ musician) to set his words to music.
1939 Lift Every Voice and Sing Statue (The Harp) sculpted by Augusta Savage |
In the struggle to create the poem Johnson stated,
"I could not keep back the tears and made no effort to do so!"
"Lift Every Voice and Sing" was adopted by the NAACP and widely
sung during the Johnson brothers lifetime, as the "Black National Anthem". They commented that Francis Scott Key's "Star Spangled Banner" was the national anthem and never
encouraged this practice. But instead, they recognized the song for what it was -a source of great racial
pride. I fear that our generation has failed the youth (few students know even one line or the melody) in not teaching and expecting them to memorize and embed the meaning of the song into their lives.
Lift every voice and sing, till earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet,
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered;
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet,
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered;
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.
“Every worthwhile accomplishment, big or little, has its
stages of drudgery and triumph; a beginning, a struggle and a victory.”
–Mahatma Gandhi
–Mahatma Gandhi
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