Double Victory

by Cheryl Mullenbach

And Layle Lane said black Americans needed to “hammer away at the walls of segregation ’til they come tumblin’ down.” She said black citizens needed to “make life uncomfortable for all those who have to be reminded of the meaning of our fundamental principles.” As the nation moved closer to war—a war against tyranny and injustice and for the principles of democracy—the time was right to demand equal treatment in America for all citizens.

  As the day of the march neared, government officials got very nervous. Finally, President Roosevelt sent word to the march organizers that he didn’t want the March on Washington to take place.

  But the organizers wouldn’t back down. The March on Washington organizing committee said they had met and decided to continue their “efforts to make the March on Washington the greatest demonstration of Negro mass power for our economic liberation ever conceived.”

  Suddenly, a few days before the march, the organizing committee and A. Philip Randolph were invited to the White House for a conference. Layle Lane was part of the group that made the trip to Washington, DC, to talk to President Roosevelt.

  During the conference the president said a march to Washington by a large group of black Americans would do more harm than good. He said that the discrimination faced by some black people had to be dealt with through methods that were carefully thought out and planned. A. Philip Randolph told the president that the march had been carefully planned by a committee of “sane, sober and responsible Negro citizens.”

  The president kept insisting that the march was a bad idea. After about 30 minutes the president had to leave the meeting, but he asked his advisers to remain and continue the conference without him. The members of the March on Washington committee tried to convince the government officials that the president should issue an executive order that would require companies with government contracts to hire black workers. They tried to convince the officials to do something about discrimination in the armed forces.

  When Layle Lane had the opportunity to speak, she said it was time for America to fully integrate black citizens into American democracy. She said if America really wanted to take the lead in fighting for preservation of democratic institutions and traditions—as it appeared to be doing by becoming involved in the war in Europe—it needed to recognize that it couldn’t ignore the rights of the black citizens of the United States.

  President Roosevelt must have been convinced by Layle Lane and the men who went to the White House. Just a few days after the group had gone to see the president, he signed Executive Order 8802. The order banned companies with government contracts from discriminating against anyone who applied for jobs—regardless of the color of their skin. The order also established the Fair Employment Practices Committee (FEPC), a six-man board charged with implementing and enforcing the order. There were two black men on the commission. The rest were white. Complaints about discrimination could be made to the FEPC. When a complaint was issued, the FEPC would investigate.

  The government had posters printed and sent to 12,000 plants around the country. The 24-inch-by-28-inch blue posters bore the words of the president—“I DO HEREBY REAFFIRM THE POLICY OF THE UNITED STATES THAT THERE SHALL BE NO DISCRIMINATION IN THE EMPLOYMENT OF WORKERS IN DEFENSE INDUSTRIES OR GOVERNMENT … AND THAT IT IS THE DUTY OF EMPLOYERS … TO PROVIDE FOR THE FULL AND EQUITABLE PARTICIPATION OF ALL WORKERS IN DEFENSE INDUSTRIES.” A letter was sent with the posters asking that they be displayed where all workers could see them.

  Because the president had issued Executive Order 8802, Randolph cancelled the March on Washington. Some black people were excited about the possibilities for nondiscrimination in hiring. But others were disappointed and angry that the march had been called off.

  The march may have been cancelled, but the fight for civil rights in the military and equality in defense hiring did not end. As the nation moved toward war, the need for equal treatment of all Americans was intensified in the view of many black people. At a time when the president of the United States talked about freedoms for all Americans, it seemed a good time to talk about a fifth freedom—freedom from discrimination. A movement that began in wartime would have lasting impact. And that movement was orchestrated by some determined black women.

  The Women Behind a Movement

  When A. Philip Randolph cancelled the March on Washington in 1941, he knew that much work still needed to be done. The establishment of Executive Order 8802 as a result of the threatened March on Washington proved that black citizens could make change occur. If Layle Lane and her committee could motivate 100,000 people to march to the capital from all over the country, they knew they could accomplish more. The people who had planned the march continued to work against discrimination. They called their work the March on Washington Movement (MOWM). Some very determined black women were leaders in the movement.

  When A. Philip Randolph asked E. Pauline Myers to host a social event for some members of a national labor union she said, “I am not a party girl; I want to build a movement.” And she did.

  Philip knew that Pauline was much more than an event planner. E. Pauline Myers had worked with Layle Lane to help organize the March on Washington. So when Philip was looking for skilled organizers to manage the national office of the MOWM, he convinced Pauline to oversee the local chapters around the country. She also planned mass meetings, designed flyers, and raised money for the organization.

  One way she raised money was by writing pamphlets that the MOWM could sell. She wrote one titled The War’s Greatest Scandal: Jim Crow in American Uniform. It sold for five cents. She also wrote Non-Violent, Good Will, Direct Action, which sold for 10 cents.

  Pauline called the discrimination practices of the military “antidemocratic” and “anti-American.” She spoke out against them across the country. She printed a flyer advertising her speech. It read, “Coming soon to your city. The daring young woman whose brilliant exposé of the United States Army’s racial bias is now helping to shape new military policy. In a ringing lecture discussion.”

  Some people considered Pauline a troublemaker, but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, she was behind the movement called Non-Violent, Good Will, Direct Action. This was an idea that encouraged black citizens to resist discrimination by direct action. But the action should be taken with good will in mind. And the actions should be nonviolent.

  This was a new idea. It was a turning point in the fight against discrimination. In the past, black leaders had encouraged citizens to fight discrimination by writing letters and telegrams to government leaders. Black leaders had sponsored conferences where citizens heard speakers talk about fighting discrimination. Through talking and writing, they had tried to get white leaders to listen.

  But E. Pauline Myers felt that “the old method … has been exploded. The patience of Negro America is sorely tried.” She explained the plan for the new direction: “The need is for mass organization with an action program—aggressive, bold, and challenging in spirit, but nonviolent in character. It invites attack, meeting it with a stubborn and nonviolent resistance that seeks to recondition the mind and weaken the will of the oppressor.”

  The new direction included huge rallies in major cities in the summer of 1942. A. Philip Randolph called for mass protests in New York City, Chicago, St. Louis, and Washington. He asked all black citizens in those cities to march together to protest discrimination in the military and in war plants. He wanted blackouts during the rallies. He asked business owners to lock up their shops, ministers to close their churches, homeowners to pull their shades, and partygoers to stop their partying for a few hours on the nights of the rallies. He wanted black communities to be “dark, dry, and silent.” Once again it was women who did much of the planning, promoting, and coordinating.

  It was surprising that anyone showed up for the June 16 rally in New York City considering all the obstacles planners Layle Lane and E. Pauline Myers had to overcome. They ran into one problem after another. They were denied city permits re
quired for large gatherings. They wanted to rent Madison Square Garden, but the managers were reluctant to rent to the March on Washington Movement. Most white newspapers failed to publicize the rally. But finally all problems were overcome, and on the night of the event an estimated 25,000 black citizens of New York City converged on the Garden.

  It was a spectacular affair with speeches, music, and drama. Bessye Bearden, president of the Harlem Housewives League, and Mary McLeod Bethune, from the National Council of Negro Women, gave speeches.

  The crowd cheered when Mary McLeod Bethune said, “I want all America to understand that we will never strike our flag. On the contrary, we will eternally protect it with all that we have in courage, in faith, in endurance. At the same time, we want our flag to protect us—at home in our right to produce and live, abroad in our willingness to sacrifice and die.”

  The crowd burst into laughter and applause when the Reverend S. T. Eldridge proclaimed, “After this world conflict is over, we want to be a part of this democracy. We don’t want to be like a label on a bottle—all around it, but not in it.”

  The New York event was considered a huge success. The management of the Madison Square Garden facility must have been surprised at the big turnout. Usually when an event took place at the Garden, the marquee on the outside of the building flamboyantly announced the event in bright lights. But the March on Washington Movement rally was never lit up on the marquee.

  In Chicago, Ethel Payne was a key organizer for the June 26 rally at the Chicago Coliseum. Thousands of black citizens crowded into the sports arena. They even overflowed into the streets, where amplifiers broadcast the voices of the speakers from inside the building. Working men and women as well as professionals joined the rally. Speakers demanded an end to discrimination in employment, the armed forces, and government. Southern congressmen who controlled key committees in Congress were blasted for denying black citizens their civil rights. The businesses and homes in the predominately black neighborhoods of the South Side were darkened from 9 to 10 PM to show support.

  In St. Louis, Thelma McNeal was a leader in organizing the black citizens to rally on August 14, 1942, at the municipal auditorium. Even some white business owners in parts of the city agreed to participate in the blackout for 15 minutes on the night of the rally. Volunteers distributed flyers and bumper stickers to promote the event. Speakers, musicians, and actors entertained the estimated crowd of 9,000 citizens who turned out for the rally. Protestors carried signs that read HOW CAN WE DIE FREELY FOR DEMOCRACY ABROAD IF WE CAN’T WORK EQUALLY FOR DEMOCRACY AT HOME? and LET’S PRACTICE DEMOCRACY AS WE PREACH IT!

  The Washington, DC, event never happened. But rallies in New York City, Chicago, and St. Louis made up for the disappointment in the nation’s capital.

  For five days in June 1943 delegates from across the country gathered for a convention in Chicago called We Are Americans, Too. A. Philip Randolph had asked E. Pauline Myers and Ethel Payne to organize the event. At the convention delegates voiced their support of the Non-Violent, Good Will, Direct Action campaign. They agreed to use the technique to fight discrimination in employment, transportation, and any situation where discrimination was obvious. They also agreed to set up educational institutes around the country to train people in how to use the technique. Part of the training would include teaching people how to organize and participate in pickets and parades in nonviolent ways. The institutes would teach people how to remain quiet when they were being insulted. And, most important, the nonviolent training showed people how to endure physical assaults without striking back. During the final day of the convention, after two hours of debate, a controversial decision was reached. The delegates voted to bar whites from participation in the March on Washington Movement.

  Many speakers gave talks during the five days. Some were women. Senora B. Lawson from Richmond, Virginia, said she supported the work of the March on Washington Movement because “it remembers the forgotten men, the men of the street, and gives them a chance to work and exercise their talents.” Cordelia Green Johnson, president of the Beauty Culturists League in New Jersey, said, “We’re not asking to sit at the banquet table of white people, but we are asking to sit at a banquet table and eat of the Bill of Rights. It is not necessary to have freedom in heaven, we won’t need it there. We want freedom here and now when we can enjoy it.” Layle Lane said black people had tools to use in the fight for equality. She said they had tools in “numbers.” She meant there were millions of black people living in the United States who, she said, had “purchasing power” of billions of dollars annually. She also reminded the delegates that black people—especially in the northern states where blacks could vote without restrictions—needed to use their voting power to elect candidates who were in support of equality. And E. Pauline Myers reminded the delegates that “colored citizens have the right to disobey unjust laws.”

  Some black women began to experiment with the idea of taking actions that were nonviolent but bold and challenging. They began to invite attacks and meet them with stubborn resistance.

  Stubbornly Resistant

  Pauli Murray had applied for graduate school at the University of North Carolina in 1938. She was refused. The letter she received was very clear: “Members of your race are not admitted to the university.”

  Pauli tried the old method of fighting discrimination. She wrote letters—one to President Roosevelt. A copy of that letter went to First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt. The president didn’t answer, but the First Lady responded to Pauli’s letter. It led to a lasting friendship between the two women, but it didn’t get Pauli into the University of North Carolina.

  Being multiracial—black, white, and Cherokee Indian—Pauli Murray knew all about racial discrimination. But “colored” was the only part that a bus driver in Virginia saw on Easter night 1940. And that, along with Pauli’s stubborn resistance to segregation practices, was enough to get her arrested.

  Pauli and a friend were on their way that night to visit Pauli’s family in Durham, North Carolina. They were traveling by bus from New York. The two young women were sitting toward the back of the bus but close to the center. Other black passengers were sitting behind them. The white passengers were seated in front of the women. When more white passengers arrived, the driver told Pauli and her friend to move farther back. But Pauli could see more black passengers coming onto the bus. She knew they would fill up the empty spaces in the back. So she said there was no reason to move from her seat.

  The driver left and returned with the police, who arrested Pauli and her friend for creating a disturbance and violating the segregation laws of Virginia. Before the two women left the bus, Pauli gave another passenger her mother’s name and telephone number. By that evening Pauli was visited in her jail cell by lawyers from the NAACP.

  The lawyers were very impressed that Pauli and her friend had taken great care to write in detail everything that had happened to them on the bus. Pauli and her friend got out of jail. The NAACP lawyers made plans to file a lawsuit. Before they could do that, the charges of violating the segregation laws were dropped. But the disturbance charge remained.

  This was a turning point in Pauli Murray’s life. It was one event that led her to law school in 1941 and led her to become a pioneer in the fight for civil rights.

  Sit-ins

  On a warm July day in 1944, Hattie Duvall, a middle-aged woman from St. Louis, Missouri, walked back and forth in front of a department store carrying a sign that read: I INVESTED FIVE SONS IN THE SERVICE. Hattie wasn’t simply boasting about her sons. She was protesting the discrimination she would face if she went into the store and sat at the lunch counter. She knew no one would serve her. In fact, they might ask her to leave the store.

  This was especially hurtful for Hattie. She had indeed “invested five sons” in the war effort. Her sons had been part of the D-day invasion in France—the largest amphibious invasion of all time. She thought her contribution to the war effort gave her the ri
ght to eat where she wanted.

  A year before Hattie protested outside the St. Louis department store, a group of black citizens in Washington, DC, carried signs as they protested in front of a restaurant there. It was the spring of 1943, and the protestors were students at Howard University—a predominantly black university. They were trying the direct-action approach in an attempt to bring civil rights to black citizens in the nation’s capital city.

  The students carried signs too:

  OUR BOYS, OUR BONDS, OUR BROTHERS ARE FIGHTING FOR

  YOU. WHY CAN’T WE EAT HERE?

  WE DIE TOGETHER—WHY CAN’T WE EAT TOGETHER?

  They felt that since their friends and family members were fighting and dying in a war for democracy they should have the right to eat where they wanted.

  The Howard students were led by a female law student—Pauli Murray. The students were studying civil liberty laws in their classes at the university and knew they were not doing anything illegal. For about a week before the protest the students rallied other students to support the planned protest at a nearby restaurant that had a whites-only policy.

  On the day of the “direct action sit-in”—a Saturday—12 students went to the restaurant. The students entered in groups of three and asked for service. When they were refused, they took seats and pulled out magazines, books, pens, and paper. They sat quietly and studied. Police arrived and remained outside. The students weren’t doing anything illegal.

  Black students continued to enter the restaurant in groups of three. They asked for service, were refused, and sat quietly reading. Soon most of the seats in the restaurant were taken by black students who were willing to eat and pay for their food—but whom the owner refused to serve. Only a few seats remained for paying white customers.

  Pauli Murray led sit-ins at lunch counters in Washington, DC. The Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe Institute, Harvard University

  Finally, the owner closed the business for the day. He said, “I’ll lose money, but I’d rather close up than practice democracy this way.”