living with Aunt Mariah. The same Christmas he pre- sented her with a lace collar, Aunt Mariah gave George a Bible, which Carver read every day for the rest of his life, marking his place with his first effort at embroidery. George also attended church with Aunt Mariah and Uncle Andy, who were devout Christians.
Of course he attended school as well. The first day that George climbed over the fence that separated the Watkins house from the schoolyard, Aunt Mariah re- minded him that he was free. No longer was he “Carver’s George.” In keeping with the custom of the times, he became George Carver.
The schoolhouse was a tiny 11’ x 14’ cabin. Each morning 75 pupils stuffed themselves into the room so tightly that when one person in a row moved, everybody had to make adjustments. The walls were thin, and the children were alternatively freezing or roasting, but few complained. They were there for a higher purpose—to learn.
The man charged with teaching them was Stephen Frost, a rather small-minded (if literate) man who tried to school his pupils in more than just the three “Rs.” Luckily, George Carver had the wherewithal to resist Stephen Frost’s indoctrination; otherwise, a great historical figure might have remained a kitchen hand for life. Elliot’s book describes Stephen Frost and Carver’s contact with him:
“‘Know your place!’ the teacher admonished repeatedly, imbuing the class with his own servility and a sharply limited horizon. And instinctively, silently, George rebelled. He did not delude himself: the color of his skin was a shackle. But he would shake it off or, if he must, drag it behind, for his place was in the sun, and he yearned to climb as near to it as energy and enterprise would take him.”
When Carver reached his teens, he had come as close to that metaphorical sun as Stephen Frost could bring him. In addition, he had begun to think that perhaps a different climate might help him shake his sickly tendencies. So when Aunt Mariah told George that the Smith family was willing to give him a ride the 75 miles to the town of Fort Scott, George left Neosho and his happy home.
Self-Sufficiency, Racism, and Carver’s Quest for Education
The Smith family dropped George off on Main Street and drove away. Once again he was in a strange town with nobody expecting him. He needed work and a place to stay. He began knocking on kitchen doors and was
George Washing Carver, circa 1870s.
After George had saved enough money for books and a place to stay (he had been living in a small room under the Payne’s back stairs), he left his position and went to school. That became the rhythm of his life for the next two years. He worked until he had money to go to school. Then he went to school until the money ran out. During this time, George did all kinds of household work, making the most of both his skills and his work ethic. But none of George’s hard work, none of his good luck, and none of his native talent and studious nature could protect him from the racism that was all around him. His authorized biography (Holt) mentions very few racist incidents, reflecting Carver’s tendency to stay on his own path regardless of racism and ignorance (and emphasizing the impact on Carver of racists experi- ences that are mentioned). The story I’m about to tell is not mentioned in Holt at all.
One day Carver (who was in his middle teens) was walking down a street in Fort Scott, carrying his schoolbooks and enjoying the day, when two white men
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directed toward the home of Lucy Payne, who needed help cooking for her very particular husband. George assured her he was up to the task, but that was a bit of an overstatement. George was used to cooking very basic foods, and Mr. Payne was used to eating a more refined diet. George was in a tight spot. He told Miss Lucy that he would like to watch how she prepared the food so that he would do it just right. George’s habit of “I want to know” and “I can do that” served him once again: Mr. Payne congratulated his wife on finding such a fine cook.
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