SWARTHMORE

COURTESY OF KATHRYN MORGANhistory is the deepest kind of poetry. Personal accounts of struggle and wisdom andtriumph against the backdrop of larger events—wars, social movements, and economicchanges—reveal the essence of humanity, says Morgan. “It is absolutely beautifulbecause it reveals what people know in their souls. So many academics are concernedwith objective truths, but if they’re really interested in where ideas come from, theywould also be interested in oral history,” and then she shakes a finger at you andlaughs again, “You know exactly what I’m talking about!”This is Kathryn Morgan’s story about racism as she experienced it at SwarthmoreCollege. As she will tell you about any oral history, even her own, “This is my story. Iam speaking for only myself as I perceived it.”“ WhenI was a little girl—I wasabout 10 years old because Iknow that my feet didn’t touchthe floor when I sat in a chair—we hadthis movie house down the street fromus that was all white, and they madeblack children sit up in what wascalled the “nigger gallery.” This wasthe late 1930s in Philadelphia. Mymother said it was wrong, and shewouldn’t let us go to the movies onSaturday, which we thought was a punishmentfor something that we hadn’tdone. So one day, my mother, tired ofme standing by the window, looking alldreary and crying because I couldn’tgo to the movies—I didn’t understandthat she didn’t want us to sit up in thenigger section—so she said, “OK. Youwant to go to the movies? I’m going totake you to the movies!”Now, my mother looked white. Shehad blue eyes and light hair and whiteskin, so we had a problem every timewe went out together. Anyway, shetook me to the movies and she said,“There’s one condition. You’re notgoing to sit up in the ‘nigger’ gallery.“YOU COULDN’T BE ACOWARD WITHCHILDREN IN THOSEDAYS BECAUSE IFYOU WERE, YOUWOULD BRING UPCOWARDLY CHILDREN.”LEFT: PROFESSOR EMERITA OF HISTORYKATHRYN MORGAN. ABOVE: MORGAN AND HERAUNT ADELINE IN PHILADELPHIA, CA. 1930.You’re going to sit down in the frontwith the white people.” That was allright with me because I thought shewas going to go with me. But she saidto me—and this is a very importantlesson—she said, “Go in there, and yousit there in the front, and don’t youmove. Don’t come home. Don’t do anything.Don’t you move.” My motherwas worried about what was going tohappen to me and my personality if Iwas discriminated against and acceptedthat I was inferior and all the nonsensethat comes along with racism.So there I was, at the movies andterrified. I remember the picture; it wasShirley Temple and some little somethingor other she was doing withBojangles. Yes. She was tap dancing upthe steps. I remember that even today.So then a little usher came down, andhe said to me, “Nigger, you’re not supposedto be here. You’re supposed tobe upstairs.”And I said, “I can’t move becausemy mama told me not to move.”He said, “I’m going to get the policeon you. You’re breaking the law.”S E P T E M B E R 2 0 0 017