For anyone interested in a more comprehensive history of Bloomfield, I highly recommend Amanda Cobb Greetham's book, Listening to Our Grandmothers' Stories.
Bloomfield
During
the summer of 1926, while Snip was campaigning to be elected to the state
legislature, a lady from the Indian Field Service came to visit Mamma and
Pappa. Her name was Mrs. Reeder. She had come to talk to them about sending one
of us to the Bloomfield Academy, a Chickasaw boarding school for girls in
Ardmore, Oklahoma.
(Snip was the family's nickname for one of my mother's older brothers, Homer Paul. He was elected to the Oklahoma State House of Representatives in 1926, and at the time was the youngest man ever elected to the House. He was 21.)
Mrs.
Reeder made a good impression on Mamma and Pappa. She told them that Bloomfield
had high standards, and that in addition to academic subjects they taught
manners, etiquette, and "industrial arts," which including laundering
, sewing, gardening, dairying, and housekeeping. Mrs. Reeder also emphasized
that the school gave young Indian girls an opportunity to be with others who
shared a common heritage. She and her husband were both Chickasaw, and their
two daughters, Julia and Sophia, attended the school.
After Mamma and
Pappa had talked with Mrs. Reeder for a while, they asked me to come in
and meet her. She asked me if I would be interested in going to a school
for Indian girls, and I was thrilled to death. I was tired of feeling different from
the other girls in Pauls Valley, and the idea of going to a school for Indian
girls sounded too good to be true. In fact I was so excited that Mamma had to
calm me down. I remember her telling me, "Jim, Indians are just like anybody
else. They're just people." Pappa was tickled at the way I reacted, but he
didn't seem as impressed with the idea of my going to an Indian boarding school
as Mamma was. I guess he was remembering his own boarding school days. Mamma
and Pappa didn't push me either way though. They let me decide, and I told them
I wanted to go.
Of course
the other thing I was thinking about was Grandpa. He was living in the old
soldiers' home in Ardmore, and I imagined that I could visit him whenever I
wanted.
(My mother's grandfather was a veteran of the Confederacy and in 1926 he lived at a Confederate veterans' home in Ardmore. My mother was his namesake - her first name was James, and she was his favorite among the grandchildren. She adored him.)
When
Kaliteyo found out about the plan, she begged Mamma to let her go to St.
Elizabeth's, another Chickasaw girl's school located in Purcell. Bloomfield only went
to the eighth grade, but St Elizabeth's went all the way through high school.
Our cousin Mildred McClure, Iman's daughter, attended St. Elizabeth's, and she
had told Kaliteyo all about it. Kalteyo told Mamma that if I got to go away to
school she should be able to go too, so it was settled. We both went to boarding
schools that year.
(Kaliteyo was my mother's older sister. Iman McClure was Pappa's first cousin, and they were very close. His father was Tecumseh McClure - see other blogs which mention Tecumsey McClure.)
While
Kaliteyo and I were waiting for school to start, we tried to get Pappa to teach
us some Chickasaw words. He spoke the language fluently - he used to speak it
with Iman and Uncle Buck - but he refused. He just laughed and told us it
wasn't important. Finally we got him to teach us to count to ten: chufa,
tuklo, tuchina, oshta, tulhapi, hunali, ontuklo, ontukchina, chukali,
pokoli.
When the
time came to leave home, Mamma packed my trunk. I got to take my roller skates
and my ukulele, and Mamma made me two new dresses. One was a nice dress for
special occasions. Mamma had embroidered flowers on the front of it, and there
was a sash that hung down the back. The other dress had a checkered pattern and
was nice, but was more of an every day dress. The only problem was that Mamma
gave me orders to wear union suits under my pretty dresses. I liked to never
got out of those union suits.
("Union Suits" were long handled underwear.)
On the day we left for school, I hugged and
kissed everybody goodbye, and Willie drove me down to Bloomfield
(Willie was my mother's oldest brother. He stayed at home and helped support the family instead of getting married or going to college.)
That evening after supper Mrs. Hill, the
matron, took me back to the main residential building where I would be living,
and started telling me the school rules. One of them was that I wouldn't be
allowed off campus, except for an official school activity.
I asked her if that meant I couldn't go
visit Grandpa, and she said that it did. Well that did it for me. I told Mrs.
Hill that if I couldn't go to see Grandpa I wanted to go home. I cried and
demanded that she call my mother. When she refused, I cried all the harder. She
tried to get me to go upstairs to bed, but I wouldn't budge. I demanded that she
call Mamma. After much pleading on Mrs. Hill's part and crying on mine, I
finally agreed to go upstairs, but only if I could talk to the school
superintendant the next morning.
Even after agreeing to stay, I still didn't
want to go upstairs. At that point Mrs. Hill began to insist. I still remember
my trip up the stairs. I would take a step up and then turn around to go back,
and Mrs. Hill would slap my bottom. Then another step and another slap, all the
way up the stairs.
In the morning Mrs. Hill was true to her
word, and she took me in to see the superintendant, Miss Allen. I remember that meeting
like it was yesterday. Miss Allen seemed to tower over me. I met her years later and
she was actually a small woman, but at the time she seemed like a giant. Miss
Allen listened patiently as I explained to her that the only reason I had
agreed to come to Bloomfield was so I could visit my Grandpa, and since I
couldn't, I wanted to go home. Miss Allen was very kind. She told me that my
mother had sent me there to go to school, and that she would want me to stay.
She asked me to just try it out for a month, and then if I still wanted to go
home she would call my mother.
(Eleanor Allen was superintendent of Bloomfield for 15 years. She maintained high standards for the school, and seemed to my mother at least to be wise and compassionate.)
Miss Allen's strategy worked. I had settled
down a little anyway since the night before, and although I was still upset,
what she said made sense to me, so I agreed to stay for a month. I was home sick,
but I also enjoyed going to school and being with the other girls. Mamma wrote
me letters, and Willie sent me a little sewing basket filled with candy.
Every Friday was letter day, and we were all
required to write a letter home. Some of the girls complained about writing
letters and said that the teachers told them what to write, but I looked
forward to letter day. Here's a letter I wrote to Mamma on Valentine's Day,
1927. It was sent to her along with my grades:
Mother this the report
for January. I am getting along just fine. I couldn't write you last Sunday
because I couldn't get a stamp. But I will write next Sunday if I can get a
stamp. Your Loving Daughter, Wenonah Paul.
Bloomfield was a beautiful school. Everything was neat and
clean, and the buildings were well maintained. There was a lake out in front of
the main building with an island in the center of it. There was a stage on the Island, and we put on plays and musical performances there.
Cement walkways connected the buildings on the Bloomfield campus,
and there were pergolas over the walks covered by pretty flowering vines. Sometimes
we were allowed to rollerskate on the walks, so I got to use my roller skates. Ardmore seemed to have a milder climate than
Pauls Valley. It never got very cold or very hot there, and it didn't snow all
winter.
My room was in the main building. The little girls stayed
there, and also the girls who only spoke Chickasaw or Choctaw. The hospital was
also in the main building so the school nurse, Mrs. Wright, worked there. She
was Choctaw and since the Chickasaw and Choctaw languages are almost the same,
she could talk to all the girls who didn't speak English.
I really wanted to learn to speak Chickasaw, but the school
was trying to force the girls to use English, so they had a rule against speaking an
Indian language. There was an old Chickasaw man who did maintenance work around
the school who taught me a few words though, and I learned more from the other
girls on laundry day. The mangle in the laundry room made a lot of noise, and
we would hide behind it and speak Chickasaw. I still remember a few words they
taught me, like chukma - hello, and minti - come here.
That was one of my jobs, to work in the laundry room. The
girls did most of the maintenance work at Bloomfield, and we were each assigned
to work details. In addition to the laundry, there was clean up, kitchen duty,
gardening, gathering eggs, and milking. Only the older girls got to milk the
cows. They were called "milk maids," and they got to wear white smocks. I wanted so much to be a milk maid. Later I got the job of milking our cow at home. I should have been careful what I
wished for.
Every month the
school published a newsletter, and I still have one of them. It is dated March
27, 1927:
It begins with an
editorial by one of our teachers:
We are glad to welcome springtime again for
with it comes the sweet perfumed flowers and the happy birds. Everywhere life
bursts forth in all its beauty. Joy and happiness are everywhere. Yet it is not
only earth's springtime but it is the springtime of life for our Bloomfield
girls. It is the best and happiest time of their lives. They should try and
realize this fact and cultivate in this springtime of youth those things which
will enable them to grow into beautiful and useful women.
Jewell Crummey
There's an article
in the newsletter about US marines being sent to China to protect American
citizens from rioting there. Other articles
announce plans to enlarge the classrooms and to expand the junior high to
include the ninth grade the coming year. Events mentioned include a guest speaker who spoke
about Japan and its people, a school dance, and an inspirational talk by a
representative from the YWCA.
Here's an article
about Bird Day:
On March 19th, we had a splendid Bird Day
Program given under the direction of Miss Roberts and Mrs. Risser. The entire
program was about birds and their help to man. The girls who took part in the
play wore bird masks and costumes which made them look very real. There were
robins, bluebirds, crows, and owls. Two toads in costume proclaimed themselves
as great helpers of man also.
a report about the
school garden:
Gardening has been progressing very well
this month. Each eighth grade girl made a garden of her own in which she has
planted twenty five different kinds of vegetables. These plants are nearly all
well above the ground. The other classes have also worked at planting so that
Bloomfield has a garden it can be proud of.
and a project by
the eighth grade girls to redecorate their rooms:
The eighth grade girls under the direction
of Miss Owens, our Home Training Teacher, have completed redecorating their
bedrooms. Their first step was to select the color scheme to be used in each
room. The varnish was removed from the furniture and it was sandpapered before
painting. They have given the walls and woodwork two coats. The floors have
been covered with linoleum. The girls have made all the room furnishings
including window curtain draperies, bedspreads, dresser scarfs and floor
pillows. We expect an invitation to a "house warming" before long.
Ernestine Trout
There were also
articles about visitors, religious activities, illness - some of the girls had
measles, news about the girls' families and news from other Chickasaw - Choctaw
schools.
Finally there was the list of girls on the
honor rolls for academic and industrial classes. I was on both. I even made a
good grade in arithmetic.
One girl from each
dormitory was chosen as nurse to report any girls who were sick, and to help
out the school nurse, Mrs. Wright. I was the nurse for my dormitory, and
I was very proud of my position. Since the school nurse's office was in my
building, I got to help her more than the others did. One of my jobs was to
help in processing new students when they first came to school.
After each new girl enrolled, they were
required to take a shower and to put on clean, freshly laundered clothes. I was supposed to take each girl to the shower room for her
shower, and to check her hair for lice. I felt very important performing this
duty, especially since some of the new girls were older and bigger than me.
Mrs. Wright gave me a fine toothed comb and a clean white towel. I was to run
the comb through the girls' hair, put it on the towel, and then take it
straight to Mrs. Wright. I remember how anxious I was to get rid of that towel.
Since I lived in the main building where the
hospital was located, I saw all the girls who were sick. There was one girl I
remember who was weak and emaciated when she first came to the school.
Mrs. Wright tried to make sure she ate good food, but she continued to get weaker.
Finally a doctor from Ardmore was called in to see her.
The little
girl still didn't improve. Then one day an old man came walking up the road. He
was the little girl's grandfather, and he was also a tribal healer. The old man
had walked all the way from his home. He spoke with Mrs. Wright and then he
went in to see his grand daughter. He stayed a long time. When he left I
watched him walk back up the road until he was out of sight. The little girl started
improving after that, and she finally recovered.
Health was
an important part of Bloomfield's curriculum, and the state of our health was
reported monthly to our parents along with our performance in class. The health
report included our weight at the beginning and the end of each month, hours of
sleep, hygiene, exercise, diet - we were supposed to drink one pint of milk
each day along with a helping of fruit, a green leafy vegetable, and six
glasses of water.
It was at
Bloomfield that I got interested in singing. We had a glee club there and
everyone participated. It was one of my favorite classes.
The cooking and sewing classes at Bloomfield were a
challenge for me. I hadn't learned much from Mamma about either except for the
little bit of crocheting she taught me when I was sick. My worst grade was in
sewing. Our project in sewing class was to make a dress, and the teacher ended
up doing most of the work for me. Then there was cooking class. I remember
our class on baking a cake. We were supposed to whip the egg whites and then >fold=
them into the batter. The other girls all knew what to do, and I remember how
horrified they were when I just dumped the egg whites in and started stirring.
I did finally learn to fold in egg whites though, and when I came home in the spring
Mamma let me bake a cake for the family. I still have the little cook book I
made at Bloomfield, and in it is the recipe for that "Standard Cake."
We had a
class in basket weaving too. We learned to soak reeds in water to make them
pliable and then weave them into baskets. At the end of the year we planted
flowers in our baskets and took them home. My flower was a narcissus.
On May Day
we got to go to a park in Ardmore on an outing.
The highlight of the trip was the slide. It was huge, and instead of
going straight down, it had a ripple on it. Some of the older girls came
prepared with bread wrappers from the bakery for us to sit on to make us go
down faster, and they really worked. We got to going so fast that we actually flew
up into the air when we went over the ripple.
It wasn't
long after that last outing in the park that the school year was over. Snip
came to get me, driving his big brown Packard, and I was so glad to see him. I never thought I'd be glad to see Snip. He
sat with the parents and watched the school's final presentation for the year,
a May Day Festival. I was especially excited because I had been chosen to
play the role of Queen of the May.
The play
was performed on the island in front of the main building with the parents
sitting around the edge of the lake. The girls were dressed in costumes
representing the animals of the forest. They danced around the May Pole holding
colorful streamers, and then I was crowned. I wore the pretty dress Mamma had
made for me, and a crown of flowers. After the play, we gathered up my stuff:
my roller skates, my ukelele, the sewing basket Willy had sent me, my basket
with the narcissus planted inside, and my cookbook, and Snip took me home. On
the way home he told me that I had done a good job, and that he was proud of
me.
It was so
good to be home! Mamma said she was proud of me too. She was especially pleased
with my manners, how I said yes ma'am and no ma'am. She even let me help her
out with the cooking. Bob and Kaliteyo teased me and started calling me the 'Queen of
the May,' but I was glad to see them anyway.
I didn't
go back to Bloomfield the next year. I could have gone there for another two
years, and then on to Chilocco for high school. Mamma would probably have let
me, but I had just been too homesick. I'm sorry now that I didn't go back. I really felt like I belonged there.
As it was, I came back from Bloomfield a
different girl. I was even more proud of my Indian heritage than before; I had
developed some manners and domestic skills, and I was ahead of my Pauls Valley
classmates academically. That year at Bloomfield was probably what enabled me
to graduate from high school a year early.
No comments:
Post a Comment