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Atlanta Exposition Address

Booker T. Washington

Atlanta, Georgia — September 18, 1895

"Cast down your bucket where you are."

Delivered at the Cotton States and International Exposition, this speech made Washington the most prominent Black leader in America. He argued for economic self-reliance and vocational education while accepting, for the time being, social segregation. The address was later criticized by W.E.B. Du Bois as the "Atlanta Compromise."

The Setting

Washington stood before a largely white audience in the segregated South, thirty years after emancipation. The first Black man to address such a gathering in the region, he knew his words would define the terms of racial discourse for a generation. He chose his strategy carefully.

One-third of the population of the South is of the Negro race. No enterprise seeking the material, civil, or moral welfare of this section can disregard this element of our population and reach the highest success.

Cast Down Your Bucket

Washington tells a parable. A ship lost at sea signals for water. Another vessel responds: "Cast down your bucket where you are." The captain refuses, signals again—receives the same answer. Finally, trusting the advice, he lowers his bucket and draws up fresh water from the Amazon River's mouth, extending far into the sea.

"To those of my race who depend on bettering their condition in a foreign land... I would say: Cast down your bucket where you are."

Cast it down in making friends, in every manly way, of the people of all races by whom we are surrounded. Cast it down in agriculture, mechanics, in commerce, in domestic service, and in the professions.

To the White South

Washington then turns to the white audience with the same metaphor. Rather than looking to foreign immigrants for labor, cast down your bucket among the eight million Black Southerners who have proven their loyalty through centuries of faithful service.

Cast down your bucket among these people who have, without strikes and labour wars, tilled your fields, cleared your forests, builded your railroads and cities, brought forth treasures from the bowels of the earth, and helped make possible this magnificent representation of the progress of the South.

"In all things that are purely social we can be as separate as the fingers, yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress."

The Bargain

Here lies the crux of Washington's position—and its controversy. He proposes an exchange: Black Americans will accept, for now, separation in social matters. In return, they ask for economic opportunity, fair treatment in the courts, and the chance to prove themselves through industry and thrift.

The wisest among my race understand that the agitation of questions of social equality is the extremest folly, and that progress in the enjoyment of all the privileges that will come to us must be the result of severe and constant struggle rather than of artificial forcing.

No race that has anything to contribute to the markets of the world is long in any degree ostracized. It is important and right that all privileges of the law be ours, but it is vastly more important that we be prepared for the exercise of these privileges.

Starting at the Bottom

Washington emphasizes practical education over classical learning, skilled trades over political agitation. His own Tuskegee Institute trained Black students in agriculture, carpentry, and mechanics. Dignity, he believed, came through productive work.

"No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem."

It is at the bottom of life we must begin, and not at the top. Nor should we permit our grievances to overshadow our opportunities. The opportunity to earn a dollar in a factory just now is worth infinitely more than the opportunity to spend a dollar in an opera-house.

The Promise of the South

Washington envisions a New South where Black and white together build prosperity. He appeals to economic self-interest: there can be no progress for one race without progress for the other. Their fates are intertwined.

Nearly sixteen millions of hands will aid you in pulling the load upward, or they will pull against you the load downward. We shall constitute one-third and more of the ignorance and crime of the South, or one-third of its intelligence and progress.

"We shall contribute one-third to the business and industrial prosperity of the South, or we shall prove a veritable body of death, stagnating, depressing, retarding every effort to advance the body politic."

The Reception

The white audience erupted in applause. Governor Bullock rushed across the stage to shake Washington's hand. Newspapers across the country praised the speech. Washington became, overnight, the most powerful Black man in America—the voice white leaders sought when they wanted to understand "the Negro question."

But not all celebrated. A decade later, W.E.B. Du Bois would denounce the speech as a capitulation—trading civil rights for vocational training, accepting second-class citizenship in exchange for economic crumbs. The debate between Washington's pragmatism and Du Bois's insistence on full equality would define Black political thought for generations.

"The laws of changeless justice bind oppressor with oppressed; and close as sin and suffering joined, we march to fate abreast."

— Closing words of the Atlanta Address

End of Text

Selected passages and context. Read the full speech and its critics for the complete picture.

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