Skip to main content

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best


I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute.

She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps.

But I didn't really know much about her.


As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up. I learned a bit more about her remarkable life:
  • She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves.
  • From an early age, she hungered for education.
  • She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race.
  • Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University.
  • She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many African American organizations for women and children through the early to mid 1900s. 
Each of these things is impressive. But as I read, I was also deeply moved by her determination, resiliency, and passion. Mary McLeod Bethune dreamed big - and achieved even bigger things.

She never let anyone deter her, and, even in the face of racial injustice, never let hate dominate her life. She had pride in who she was and in her people. She refused to be afraid, facing off against the Ku Klux Klan. When they approached her school, she ordered all the lights turned on so she could look into their faces. Leading the young girls around her, they began to sing a hymn - and they sang them right off the campus!

She had dreams, and she had the determination to make them reality. She rented her first school building with only $1.65 in her pocket. She used crates as desks and sang on corners asking for money. When she asked a wealthy donor to visit her school and be on the board of trustees, he looked around in dismay. "Where is this school you want me to run?" asked the wealthy man. "It's here. It's in my heart," said Bethune. And the man pulled out a checkbook. She believed, and incredible things happened.


As I walked by her grave, planted over a former garbage dump that she purchased for the expansion of her little school and turned into a major university, I was humbled. Her gravestone reads: "She has given her best, that others may live a more abundant life." The bell hanging up to the right, signifies her desire to "ring" the bell of education and freedom for African American children in the South at a time when that was not a possibility.



As I toured the Bethune Foundation that occupies her former home. I saw her desk, the sun streaming into her bedroom through glass windows (the windows she wished for as a young girl growing up in slavery), a velvet dress laid across her bed. Her home has been turned into a place that serves as an inspiration to others. I almost felt like she would walk into the room and greet me.


She didn't, of course, but her students did welcome me. Her college, Bethune Cookman University, is filled with students who are learning and achieving and growing.

This is a woman I wish I could have known.

Mary McLeod Bethune wrote: "My love is a universal factor in my experience, transcending pettiness, discrimination, segregation, narrowness and unfair dealings with regard to my opportunities to grow and serve. Through love and faith and determination I have been persistently facing obstacles, small and large, and I have made them stepping stones upon which to rise."

And rise she did.

God blessed the world through this remarkable woman.



Comments

Katy said…
Great Historical tidbit! Thanks for sharing!!
Auntie C said…
I look forward to reading more when my book arrives!
a said…
Thank u i came from hermenutrics blog, you know my relatives live on campus at bcc, its a shame i dont even know my own history. I heard my father talk about miss bethune growing up. He recently passed

Popular posts from this blog

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side.   They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets.   The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night.   As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the

My Life as a Cosplay Mom

Cosplay?! What's that? When I tell people that my teenage daughter loves to cosplay, they often have no idea what I'm talking about. About five years ago, my daughter created her first costume to attend a cosplay convention. What I quickly learned is that her love for "cosplay" (defined as costume play) would definitely involve her mom! Together, we have made countless trips to the fabric and craft store as I learned to sew, trace, and glue, create patterns from scratch, and apply stage make-up. In the photo to the left, you can see my husband and I, with our daughter, in full Pokemon cosplay. Attending ACEN (Anime Central) at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont, IL, two mild-mannered parents were instantly transformed into Team Magma. Our daughter had full design control, helping me create our group costume. Apparently we did it right, because the moment we entered the conference center, we were stopped for photos. Milt and I had to fake i