Christmas came thirty-one weeks early for the 2019 graduates of Morehouse College, the nation’s only all-male historically-black university. In the midst of his commencement speech last week, billionaire Robert F. Smith stunned the crowd by pledging to eliminate the student loan debt of the entire graduating class. The gift, to be administered in the form of a grant, is estimated to be worth between $10 million and $40 million.
As news quickly spread beyond Morehouse’s campus and across the internet, the announcement was met with lighthearted suggestions for fellow 2019 commencement speakers, including the one and only Oprah Winfrey. Commenting under a photo that the mogul posted at the Colorado College commencement, an Instagram user joked that Oprah “should have paid off their student debt”. Oprah swiftly reminded the commenter that she has already “put over 400 men thru (sic) [Morehouse]”; in fact, her first philanthropic commitment to the college was announced during their 1989 commencement. In other words: this is nothing new. Smith’s gift, like Oprah’s nearly two decades before him, represents yet another chapter in the centuries-old legacy of black beneficence – much of which has been accomplished by women.
The roots of African-American philanthropy are closely intertwined with Emancipation. Before the Civil War, altruistic blacks invested in two forms of freedom: abolitionist movements and educational opportunities. The original sources of their funding varied. Activist Sojourner Truth capitalized on the nascent art of photography, selling her image in the form of cartes de visite that were boldly inscribed “I sell the shadow to support the substance”. She used the revenue to support not just African-American liberation, but also women’s rights, in keeping with the intersectionality espoused in her “Ain’t I a Woman?” speech.
Like Sojourner Truth, Bridget “Biddy” Mason was born enslaved and successfully sued her owner for her freedom. Once free, she dedicated her life to the care of others, first through her career as a nurse, and eventually through her passion for philanthropy. Saving meticulously, Mason purchased large parcels of land and donated a portion to the First African Methodist Episcopal Church of Los Angeles. Mason also financed the creation of an African-American elementary school, ensuring that black children could receive the education that was denied to her under slavery. Recipients of her generosity affectionately referred to her as “Grandma Mason,” a moniker that has been immortalized in a park bearing her name, built on the site of her former home.
Smith’s gift, like Oprah’s nearly two decades before him, represents yet another chapter in the centuries-old legacy of black beneficence – much of which has been accomplished by women.
Farther north in California, Mary Ellen Pleasant used money inherited from her deceased husband to build an empire in San Francisco. During the height of the gold rush, Pleasant owned shares in businesses ranging from restaurants to Wells Fargo Bank. She also invested in abolitionist John Brown, funding his raid on Harpers Ferry. A note from her to him was found in the pocket of the clothes he wore to his hanging.
In the decades following the abolition of slavery, black philanthropy diversified as a greater number of African-Americans with a greater number of interests began to accrue wealth. Hair mogul Madame CJ Walker was a celebrated patron of the arts, while educator Mary McLeod Bethune fundraised for the first black hospital in Daytona, Florida. Equality and education remained relevant to black donors; however, the larger playing field gave them the latitude to indulge additional causes.
Another key development was collective action. Across the country, like-minded black women began to gather under the banner of philanthropy and civic engagement, forming organizations such as the Woman’s Era Club in Boston and the Colored Women’s League of Washington in the late 1800s. Speaking at the 1895 First National Conference of the Colored Women of America, Margaret Murray Washington–wife of Booker T. Washington–encouraged the crowd of educated, middle-and upper-class black women to inspire and teach black women who lacked similar opportunities. Attendees from over 80 clubs in 25 states espoused a sense of duty and devotion to building the black community.
At the turn of the century, African-American women began attending college in droves, and altruism acquired a social bent, with sororities such as Alpha Kappa Alpha and Delta Sigma Theta springing up on the campus of Howard University. Members participated in women’s suffrage marches and held school dances, gave academic scholarships and participated in sit-ins; as the face of philanthropy evolved, these activities were not seen as mutually exclusive.
With the Civil Rights movement growing, black philanthropic efforts once again coalesced to support freedom fighters. However, in this iteration, African-Americans of modest means worked alongside the wealthy, fundraising in church basements and selling food door-to-door to aid progress. Famously, Georgia Gilmore, a single mother of six, organized “The Club from Nowhere,” a group of women whose culinary contributions raised thousands of dollars in support of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. A reimagining of Margaret Murray Washington’s vision – lower-income black women inspiring and teaching themselves to build the black community.
The annals of both black history and women’s history have been kinder to some than to others. Though the proliferation of radio, television, and the internet has hastened the spread of good black news, there remains a serious dearth of knowledge about the philanthropy of African-American women, as evidenced by the commenter who took to Oprah’s Instagram page. Historically, black women benefactors have had to battle racism, sexism, and classism in the process of doing the work. Yet, they have always done the work.
Before Sheila C. Johnson, Mellody Hobson, and Cathy Hughes, there was Harriet Gibbs Marshall. Alongside Madame CJ Walker stood Annie Turnbo Malone. All of these women, the formerly enslaved and the moguls, the socialites and working-class cooks, were the foremothers of African-American altruism. And Oprah is the foremother of Robert F. Smith. Together, they have gifted the next generation an increasingly rare opportunity: financial freedom.
