LITR 5731:
Seminar in American Minority Literature
University of
Houston-Clear Lake, Fall 2001
Sample Student Midterm
David Miller
LITR 5731
Dr. Craig White
October 2, 2001
Gains
and Losses:
Levels
of Literacy in African-American Literature
Through literacy will come emancipation. So runs a theme throughout the
various selections we have read thus far. But emancipation comes in many forms,
as does literacy. The various aspects of academic literacy are rather obvious in
relation to emancipation, especially when one is confronted with exclusion from
membership in the dominant culture. In the various slave narratives we have
examined, all but one writer, Mary Prince, managed to achieve academic literacy
to varying degrees (although, Mary Prince was in the process of learning to read
and write). And even though she was not literate, Mary was still able to have
her story told. Frederick Douglass, made it a point to attain literacy at any
cost. Most, but not all, of Toni Morrison's characters in Song of Solomon
appear to have attained at least a modicum of literacy. In Push, Sapphire
has her protagonist, Precious, pointed down a long road toward at least a
minimal form of academic literacy that will allow her to become a more
functional human being and a much more productive member of society. What part
does literacy play in the advancement of the individual, and to what lengths
will one go to achieve it? What part must the individual play to make certain
that literacy leads to the desired or implied advancement? And, finally, is
there a cost for literacy, or is it always something gained?
Narrative
of the Life of Frederick Douglass
As a
relatively young man, Frederick Douglass discovers, in his Narrative of the
Life of Frederick Douglass, that learning to read and write can be his path
to freedom. Upon discovering that his wife has been teaching Douglass to read,
his master, Mr. Auld, states that "[...] it was unlawful, as well as
unsafe, to teach a slave to read" (274). Auld's reasoning is that being
able to read would "[...] forever unfit him [Douglass] to be a slave. He
would at once become unmanageable, and of no value to his master" (274).
From Auld's admonitions, Douglass determines that his road to freedom is paved
with words: "From that moment, I understood the pathway from slavery to
freedom. [...] The very decided manner with which he spoke [...] served to
convince me that he was deeply sensible of the truths he was uttering"
(275). Douglass understands that he has everything to gain from literacy,
especially the freedom that he desires above all else. His path will be
difficult, though, since he will have to find ways to teach himself to read, but
it becomes a quest for him.
Does Frederick Douglass have
to pay a price to become literate? He states that he "[...] was compelled
to resort to various stratagems [...]" to become literate and would
"[...] [make] friends of all the little white boys whom I met in the
street" (276). He would ply them with scraps of bread in his efforts to
gain knowledge and would read while he was running errands for his master.
Later, he forges "protections" (307) so he and others can attempt to
escape to Maryland. Ethically or morally, does he feel even the slightest regret
that he resorts to subterfuge and bribery to meet his goals? His text is not
explicit in this regard, but given his circumstances, it is obvious that the end
justify the means. The institution of slavery in the United States must have
been highly adversarial and much like prisoner of war camps in more recent
history. In the latter, it is the duty of any POW to attempt to escape by
whatever means possible, and a slave's situation would have been just as dire.
It is highly doubtful that Douglass feels any remorse, nor would it have been
expected. Douglass feels such an overpowering desire to become literate because
he sees literacy as his pathway out of the bonds of slavery. In fact, had he not
possessed the tools of literacy, he would possibly never have escaped bondage.
Song
of Solomon
"But
if the future did not arrive, the present did extend itself, and the
uncomfortable little boy in the Packard went to school and at twelve met the boy
who [...] could liberate him [...]" (Song of Solomon 35-36). So says
Toni Morrison of Milkman Dead, the boy in the Packard, in Song of Solomon.
The other boy of whom she speaks is Guitar Bains, Milkman's
mentor-of-the-street. Morrison tells us little more of Milkman's formal
education, but we can assume that he goes on to high school because Guitar is in
high school when she introduces him. We do learn that Milkman’s sisters attend
and graduate from college, but their education isolates them from the rest of
the community. In fact, at age forty-four, Corinthians eventually goes to work
as a maid and enters into a relationship with Porter, one of her father’s
tenants, much to her father’s dismay. Within the class structure of
"haves" and "have-nots," Corinthians finds the
"haves" side abhorrent, the "have-nots" side attractive, but
she can not cross the socioeconomic line that her father has drawn. She must
remain within the paradigm that separates her from the lower, uneducated portion
of their society.
Milkman’s more limited education (and his gender, to a degree) affords
him free access to all sections of society. And his relationships with those he
encounters serve to augment his formal education. While skipping school one day,
Railroad Tommy introduces both Milkman and Guitar to Platonic dialectic in the
form of a roundabout admonition regarding skipping school (59-61). From his
father, Milkman learns about the rigors of business; from the average people on
the street, he learns of injustice; from Hagar, he learns about obsession and
the pleasures of the flesh; and from Pilate, ironically, he learns about the
importance of family, love, and believing in the truth.
But his most important lessons are self-taught and gleaned from his
experience. On his ill-fated journey to recover the mysterious bags of gold, he
teaches himself the importance of the past and how it relates to the present. He
also learns how to be his own person—in effect, to think for himself.
Throughout his entire life, it seems that Milkman is always trying to be
something or someone that someone else wants him to be. His father wants him to
hate his mother, and vice-versa. Guitar wants him to be more militant. His
sisters want him to be more responsible. However, in learning about his roots,
he makes discoveries about the inherent good in all people, something Pilate was
trying to teach him, not in an effort to turn him into someone else, but to show
him the way to understand life. And his understanding of life, family and
tradition makes the past truly relevant to the events that have occurred in his
life. There is a reason for what he has experienced. With his newly-found
knowledge comes a price: he must sever life-long bonds with his one true friend,
Guitar, because Guitar cannot comprehend the changes that have occurred within
his friend. His only recourse is to engage in mortal combat with his friend, and
one will lose everything.
One truly interesting aspect of Milkman's literacy is his apparent
ability to transcend time and space as he discovers his history. While he is
wandering the back woods looking for the cave with its bags of gold, he
encounters Circe, the woman who saved his father and his aunt when they were
children. Morrison is vague here regarding Circe's age, but according to the
chronology of the book, she should be dead. Whether it is a dream, a vision, or
some sort of super-metacognitive state, Milkman elicits from her an objective
account of what happened to his father and Pilate after their father is
murdered. Circe even leads him directly to the cave where the gold should be. He
does not find gold in the literal sense, but he does find a wealth of knowledge
because Circe's information sets him on a quest to determine where he came from,
and hopefully, where he might be going. He attains this same state during the
coon hunt when he essentially becomes one with the earth and at the conclusion
of the novel when he finds he is able to fly. Is the state of super-metacognition
he enters during these episodes a metaphor for an inherent attachment to the
past? something akin to a shared history? something ingrained and transferred
with roots deeply embedded in African traditions? Morrison leaves the answers to
these questions (and many others) up to her readers, but it is obvious that
Milkman finds more in historical literacy than he ever received from his formal
education.
Push
What does literacy mean to Sapphire’s Precious in her novel, Push?
Literacy becomes the key that unlocks all the gates for Precious. But in doing
so, Precious must close the door on all those who were important to her before
literacy entered her life. Precious is illiterate. Of this there is no doubt.
But she is also street-smart and knows how to survive. But at sixteen, she is
out on the street with her newborn baby, and her street smarts fail her. And
even though she does not actively seek out literacy, it becomes her salvation
because it breaks the negative bonds that have tied her to her previous life.
Initially, Precious is a bitter character; physically and sexually
abused, neglected, and ignored, she presents a false bravado that shields a
tender individual within. Unable to read, write, or even recognize single-digit
numbers, but unwilling to admit it, circumstances force her to enroll in an
alternative school in an effort to save herself and her child. At this point in
the novel, Maslow is in full force; she needs food, shelter and safety, but once
these needs are met, she faces the harsh reality that if she wants to go
anywhere in the world, she cannot continue in the same manner in which she has
been living.
In Precious' account of her early years in school, it becomes apparent
that simple things led to her early demise. Taunts from other children cause her
to withdraw and she is quickly misdiagnosed as unable to learn by a seemingly
uncaring and unsympathetic administrator: "Finally Principal say, Let it
be. Be glad thas [sic] all the trouble she give you [sic]. Focus on the ones who
can learn, Principal say to teacher [sic]" (37). Lacking the early
childhood skills necessary for success, Precious flounders through a system
ill-equipped to deal with her educational problems, much less her severe social
and family problems. She has been taught that, in everyone's eyes, or at least
in the eyes of those who have tried to teach her, she cannot learn. This
paradox permeates her life and affects everything and everyone she encounters.
By the time she reaches the age of sixteen, she is effectively driven out of the
public school system and into an alternative school.
The love she has for her child is one thing that drives her forward. She
is astute enough to realize that her reality is not what she wants for her baby:
"No, I gonna be queen of those ABCs—readin' 'n writin'. I not gonna stop
going to school 'n I not going to give Abdul up and I is gonna get Little Mongo
back one day, maybe" (75). Once she gets a taste of literacy, Precious is
smart enough to realize just how important it could be in her life: "I
wonder where I be if I had been learning all those years I sit at I.S. 146"
(107). As a child, she did not have the common sense or foresight to comprehend
the importance of literacy; as an elementary and junior high school child,
memories of the tauntings she suffered earlier precluded any admission that she
could not read; but motherhood, despite her youth, and a feeling of security and
the common bond offered by the students in the alternative school impel her to
confide in her teachers her complete lack of literacy skills. The only way she
can accomplish this is to break the cycle of illiteracy that has so far
strangled her and kept her at the mercy of others.
For Precious, literacy signifies hope for the future, not only for her,
but also for her children. The gains she makes are obvious, but what has she had
to give up in the process of becoming literate? For Precious, the trade-off is
complete—she gains everything and loses nothing except pain, humiliation, and
suffering—things with which she is probably very willing to part. And in the
process, she opens the door for her children to continue her break with the
past.
Unlike Milkman, Precious sees nothing redeeming in the past nor does
Frederick Douglass. Milkman sees hope for the future through a connection with
the past, but Douglass and Precious can use their connections with the past as
means to avoid its mistakes. So all three find a personal use for what once was
reality as a promise for a more fulfilling reality in the future. And in a
certain sense, all three find emancipation through their disparate relationships
with literacy.
Works
Cited
Douglass,
Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. The Classic
Slave Narratives. Ed. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. New York: New American Library,
1987. 243-331.
Gates, Henry Louis. The
Classic Slave Narratives. New York: New American Library, 1987.
Morrison, Toni. Song of
Solomon. New York: Penguin Books USA, Inc., 1987.
Sapphire. Push. New
York: Vintage Books, 1996.