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Mountain Life & Work vol. 16 no. 3 Fall, 1940 Council of the Southern Mountains 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2003 mlwv16n31040 These pages may freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Mountain Life & Work vol. 16 no. 3 Fall, 1940 Council of the Southern Mountains Berea College; Council of the Southern Mountains Berea, Kentucky Fall, 1940 $IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. MOUNTAIN Li FE WORK MADE BY HAND MARY ELA UNCLE JEFF'S CHILDREN'S CHILDREN ARTHUR M. BANNERMAN FALL, 11940 VOLUMi aVI NUMBER 3 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK ORGAN OF THE CONFERENCE OF SOUTHERN MOUNTAIN WORKERS 1S PUBLISHED QUARTERLY AT BEREA, HE.'1~'TL'CHY, IN THE INTERÃ‚Â EST OF FELLOWSHIP AND MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING BETWEEN THE APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS AND THE BEST OF THE NATION. Contributing Editors Editor _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ Helen H. Dingman Olive D. Campbell John P. McConnell Associate Editor _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Orrin L. Keener Marshall E. Vaxghn John T igert Arthur T. McCormack James Still IN THIS ISSUE MADE BY HAND -Mary Eta i THE SHUTTLE, a poem -Nellie 1. Crabb 9 UNCLE JEFF'S CHILDREN'S CHILDREN -Arthur M. Bannerman 10 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS 14 HIGHLANDER FOLK SCHOOL -Leon Wilson i S A FOLK CONFERENCE -Harry Cary 20 PINE MOUNTAIN GUIDANCE INSTITUTE -Birdena Bishop 25 WHAT THEY ARE DOING 27 THE REVIEWING STAND INSTITUTIONAL EQUIPMENT FOR SALE JOIN THE CONFERENCE OUR CONTRIBUTORS 30 33 33 SUDIGxIM70N P8lC8 =LOO PER YEAR, $O CBNTi PER COPY. ISSUED SPRING, SUMMER, AVTVMN, WINTER Entered at the Post Office at Berea, Kentucky, a second class mail matter ADDIIBiS ALL COMMUNICATIONS TO MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK, BEREA, KENTUCKY MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK VOLUME 16 FALL, 1940 MADE BY HAND BY MARY ELA A week ago, we who are together in this room were scattered throughout the Southern HighÃ‚Âlands. It would be simple to take a map of the region and a paper of pins and mark the places where, a week ago, each one of us went about his work. But a pin on a map would be a dull portrait of you, and it could not imply what each one thought and felt and did a week ago today. Bound to our own communities by loyalties of love and of labor, by the interdependence which weaves each one of us into relationships with others of us, we awakened a week ago to the exÃ‚Âcitement of a new day of being alive. We turned off our radios and went to our shops, to our offices, to our class rooms. We heard the rhythmic beat of treadles, the staccato sounds of typewriters, the questioning and answering voices of people. When the day was done, we listened again to news reports from the world of which our worlds are a part, and night came to mark the end of another day of being alive on earth. No pin-pierced map could say what you thought and said and felt and did a week ago today. Nor could it tell the force with which your day of life entered into the character and the quality of the lives of your fellow workers and the life of your community. We gather here to celebrate our delight in our labor; to test and evaluate, through contact with other workers in the field, the rightness of the things we are making and the welfare of the inÃ‚Âdividual craftsmen and the communities whose liveÃ‚Âlihood depends upon the marketing of the products. We gather, too, to consider the value of our products in relation to the people who buy them. We seek from one another the friendly warmth of sympathetic understanding, the awakening sting of honest criticism. We have it in our power to bless or curse each other, to strengthen or weaken each other, to help or harm each other, to love or hate each other. We who are together in this room are the ingredients of which wars are made, just NUMBER 3 as surely as we arc the stuff which builds itself into a cooperating community. We have it in our power to fight or to work with each other. Or, if we are very old and very frail and frightened, we may go through the motions of cooperation, while we nestle into the holes our pins have marked upon the map and pretend that we are sufficient unto ourselves, untouched by the pulse of life which establishes kinship between people who are widely separated. Our presence here is testimony of our belief in each other and testimony of our respect for the task we share. It is a hunger song for intelligent understanding and honest criticism. It is an atÃ‚Âtempt to evaluate the procedures of a week ago today, to clarify, purify and strengthen the blueÃ‚Âprints which direct the course of handicrafts on the planet Earth in this one thousand nine hundred and fortieth year after the birth of Christ. Our kinship with people whose lives were lived before the twentieth century is a root system which reaches deeply into the earth, beyond the seas, and out and out into time unmeasurable. A carver in ancient Egypt saw beauty in the lithe form of a servant girl and said it clearly in wood. Slim she is and proud. She stands erectly with one hand balancing a burden on her head and the other hand extended to hold a tall vase. She wears her burden as though it is a crown and her slim form, fixed in wood, speaks across the centuries, and across the barriers of foreign language of life lived and beauty known in ancient Egypt. Made for the tomb of a king, the little figure left its homeland to become a document of one civilization in the keeping of another. The case which protects her at the Louvre in Paris cannot imprison her. She came to America in my mind and she is here this morning, at home with people who know that carving is a way of speakÃ‚Âing, and that its value depends upon what the carver has to say. Page 2 A Greek pottery worker in pre-Christian times, fashioned from his native clay a pitcher for the pouring of oil. It is a spirited form. The broad handle is as proud as the tail of a high stepping horse, as firmly curved as a crookneck squash. The bowl is fit for holding oil, and a tiny face in low relief watches over the throat through which the o'I was poured. That vase, designed and made to serve the needs of flesh-and-blood people in anÃ‚Âcient Greece, has outlived the man who made it and the people who used it, but it has not outlived its power to speak of the vitality, the order and the honor of a craftsman and a civilization which came and passed before Christ was born. A Chinese craftsman made two balls of heavy metal and sealed within each ball a tiny bell. The tinkling music which is made whenever the balls are moved seems to come from very far away. The Chinese craftsman's balls have wandered from the Orient. I who cherish them in a western world do not understand the Chinese language. I do not know the Chinese names for the two forces which are symbolized by the two balls. But I know a need for time apart from people and from words. And when the warmth of my hand enters into the metal of the Chinese balls and the music comes from distances so strangely far and near, I have no need of an interpreter to explain the purpose of the Chinese craftsman's work. That which his hand made, my hand receives. That which his spirit sensed, is real to me. There is no barrier of foreign words between us. A Russian weaver set up a two-color warp of five broad stripes. His thread was coarse strong linen. One color was as softly dull and brown as the dried hull of a black walnut. The second color was lighter neither brown nor gray. The Russian weaver crossed the three light stripes and the two darker stripes with the darker thread and wove yards and yards of a rugged fabric which made its way across the ocean, across the states, to a store in Minnesota. The people who found it there and bought a yard or three or ten yards, took home with them that much of solid strength and comfort. They took into their houses beauty of color and texture like that we have come to know and love in the bark of trees, the weathered stalks and stubble of an old year's corn, and the quietly inÃ‚Âevitable garb of mother birds. The Egyptian carver, the Greek potter, the MOUNI AIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 Chinese metal worker, the Russian weaver, achievÃ‚Âed success in their crafts and moved into our lives through an honest use of native materials and an honest attempt to make things which would serve their people well. These products have disÃ‚Âtinction and beauty not because they are tricked up to attract purchasers, but because they are admirably fit to live with and to use. These proÃ‚Âducts are priceless in their power to give the one who receives them the warmth of the craftsman's love of his materials, the friendliness of the craftsÃ‚Âman's interest in people, and the order which the craftsman projects from his mind, through his hands, into the thing he builds. I summon to this gathering of twentieth century craftsmen, the craftsmen of other eras and other countries. They are a part of our root system. That which was their future is our present. They live on, in their carvings, their weavings, and their furniture. They live on through everything their hands touched. We, craftsmen of another era, can read in the things which survive them, the story of the lives they lived, the character of the civilÃ‚Âizations they helped build. Just as truly do our hands record in wood and wool and cotton and metal the kind of people we are, and the kind of a civilization we are building. If you search your home for things which the people of the twentieth century are leaving behind them, you will wander through an amazing array of dishes and pets and pans for all occasions. You w'll find perambulators and roller skates and triÃ‚Âcycles and bicycles and motorcycles and all manner of things on wheels. You will find toys for infants and the very young and the not so young. You will find distractions for people of all ages: toy guns for the ten year old, funny paper specials for the adolescent, jig saw puzzles for those whose lives are too confused or not enough confused to be interesting. Our civilÃ‚Âization will leave behind it all the paraphernalia of moving-picture machines and permanent-wave machines and radios and radios and radios. And there will be endless layers of tin cans and disÃ‚Âcarded auto parts for the archaeologist of the future to find in our city dumps, to use as testiÃ‚Âmony that our civilization wrote a diary of itself in the things it made and used. The producers of this era, so extravagantly blessed and cursed with possessions, are not greatlyPall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 3 Courtesy of the Doris Ulmann Foundation Page 4 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 concerned with the archaeologists of tomorrow. They are busy meeting the challenges of new maÃ‚Âterials, making more and better things, and, with all the skill of modern advertising, enticing people to purchase more things, and to trade in old things for new things. The handicraft worker in this century shares a world far different from the one which the Egyptian wood carver and the Greek potter knew. In industry-serviced countries, where things are cheap and plentiful, the citizens are not marked with the humility which comes from the experience of making things by hand. They served their apÃ‚Âprenticeships to machines rather than to craftsmen. They are little familiar with the slow and intiÃ‚Âmate processes of the handicrafts. Many of them have a sort of nostalgia for the kind of living possible to a handicraft worker, and some of them balance their lives and refresh their spirits with handicraft hobbies. But it is the machine industry which floods their world with things. The handicraft worker of this century enters into a new world and answers with his life and his product the question o f a handicra f tman's place in the world. He inherits a tradition which the new world respects. He meets a hunger which the new world does not outgrow. His reality is not denied by the dramatic development of machine craft and the powerful brotherhood of contemporaries whose tools are machines. The machine is not a craftsman's enemy. It is a giant tool created by man's mind and hand. The machine is an extension of the strength of our hands, the power of our backs, the sharpness of our teeth, the swiftness of our movements, the preÃ‚Âcision of our eyes, the order of our minds. The machine is not our enemy. It is a tool for man to use as he will. When we feed to the maÃ‚Âchines of our invention the new raw stuff of which fabrics are made, the machine feeds back to us machine-woven wool, machine-woven cotton, machine-woven silk. Just as beautiful and just as ugly as the patterns which we dictate to the machine are the fabrics which the machine weaves. The machine leaves its mark upon the product, a proud mark telling the world that man has, with machines, built the sleeping stuff of the earth into patterns of his own designing. Made by Machine is as proud a label as Made by Hand. It involves a double creative process: the invention and the per- fection of the tools which make exact repetition and mass production possible, and the evolution of a design fit to be reproduced and repeated. Machine craft and hand craft have a great storehouse and a great necessity in common. The storehouse is the earth itself: metal to be mined, stone to be quarried, clay to be dug, trees to be planted and harvested, cotton to be grown, color to be discovered and refined, animals to be bred and shorn and skinned. The stuff of the earth beÃ‚Âlongs to any man who has the wit and the strength and the skill and the imagination to find it and take it. The great necessity which machine craft and hand craft share is an honest use of this great storeÃ‚Âhouse of material. Each material has its characterÃ‚Âistic identity: each metal, its own strength and weakness; each wood and each block of wood, its individual color and texture. Metal can not do what wood can do. The craftsman, be he conÃ‚Âcerned with machine craft or hand craft, must know and feel the special identity of the material with which he works. Upon this knowing and feeling, the quality of his design and the adequacy of his technique depend. This respect for the special character of each material is a first requisite of the creation of beauty. Tools and techniques evolve in relation to wood, metal, leather, clay, cotton and wool. DeÃ‚Âsigns are born to heighten the identity of the material and to give it form significant from the standpoint of use and of beauty. The artist in industry and the artist in handicraft are dependent upon a single storehouse of earth materials and know a common law of use and beauty, but they do not and can not compete with each other. Each one has his own set of tools and his own capacities for production. The industrial-craftsman's tools are machines capable of impersonal repetition of good designs and bad designs. The hand-craftsÃ‚Âman's tools are a pair of hands and the tools these hands have made to help him manipulate intiÃ‚Âmately and skillfully the materials from which he makes, one at a time, good designs and bad designs. The machine and the products of the machine can not kill the craftsman but the craftsman can kill himself. He can use his skillful hands to imitate the precision of the machine and lose the precious variations which make each carving and each weaving a part of the ever-growing, fartherÃ‚Âknowing person whose today's carvings and weav- Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page S ings say who he is as well as who he was. The machine-educated, machine-using public may ask the hand craftsman to turn himself into a machine for the indefinite repetition of designs. The craftsÃ‚Âman who says an unqualified yes to this request loses his integrity as an artist craftsman. He might better move into honorable machine production than to sell himself into such unbalanced compeÃ‚Âtition. He may accustom himself to the falsehood that he is nothing but a tool, a machine for the reproduction of patterns. He may subside into an order-by-return-mail catalogue-house kind of proÃ‚Âduction. There is nothing to protect him except himself, and his belief in himself. There is nothing to save him except that precious quality of life which makes a man different from a machine. The machine and the products of a machine can not kill a craftsman, but he can kill himself. The machine-loving public may not tell him when he dies, nor sense that murder has been committed. Increasingly concerned with technical skill and inÃ‚Âcreasingly less concerned with the use to which he puts it, he may consider a precarious market and a talkative group of sentimental buyers proof that he is still alive. Cowering in the shadow of the machine, forgetting that it is simply another kind of a tool in the hands of another kind of a craftsÃ‚Âman and another system of labor, he may pretend that each thing he makes with his hands has some special merit which sets it on a pedestal above anything that is made by machine. The craftsman's hands and industry's machines do exactly what the man who directs the hands and the men who direct the machines plan and command them to do. The hands and the machines are capable of using metal and wood and cotton and wool honestly. They are capable, too, of using them dishonestly. Each is capable of producing things that are useful and of producing things that are useless. Each is capÃ‚Âable of producing things that are beautiful. Each is capable of producing things that are ugly. And each is capable of producing things that are neither ugly nor beautiful but just plain dull. The skill of a craftsman is not precious to any one except himself unless he uses that skill to make honest, useful, interesting, beautiful things. The ten-cent store offers to a buying public cleanly functional machine-made things which have more of beauty than does badly composed, impersonally copied or carelessly made handicraft which sells for dollars instead of dimes. There is no virtue in spending time on a dull design, and there is no reason why anyone should pay a craftsman for time thus spent. The hand and the machine do what their deÃ‚Âsigners tell them to do. In this age when the maÃ‚Âchine is being directed by some of the most vital designers and scientists alive, the craftsman can kill himself by becoming a beggar who asks the public to buy his wares simply because his wares were made by hand. A craftsman is his own scientist and research man, his own designer, his own laborer. The machine and the products of the machine can not kill him but he can kill himself with the pretense that it is enough simply that he go on making things, anything, by hand. If he dismisses the scientist in himself, his materials will not be fit to use. If he dismisses the designer in himself his products will not be fit to sell. His right to immortality, to say nothing of his right to daily bread, seems to depend upon his power to keep the scientist, the designer and the laborer working together. Made by Hand is a proud label. At its best it means that some one had a good time doing it. At its worst it means that somebody's hands were confiscated for a job while somebody's spirit slumbered or somebody's body protested in hunÃ‚Âger or fatigue. Made by Hand, at its best, means that somebody skillfully fashioned from wool or wood or silver a blanket for a child, a bed for a home, a bracelet for a girl; for the market too, but for a child, for a home, for a girl. It means that the one who gathers the reeds and colors them with dye and moves them into a basket, makes music with the colors and the textures even as he meets the need of someone for carrying eggs, or for holding bread, or for transporting a picnic supper from a house to a woods. Made by Hand, at its best, means that you can not purchase another exactly exactly like it. There may be another almost like it, and the craftsman may take delight in the buyer's delight in what he has done and attempt to make another. But the one he makes anew will change, a little. There are no two pieces of wood exactly alike. There are no two days in a craftsman's life exactly alike. The joyful opportunity to vary a theme with every restatement o f it is the spring from which a craftsman draws his strength to design. You can Page 6 MOUNTAIN Lire AND WORK Fall, 1940 not make a design all of a sudden, or change a workman into an artist craftsman overnight. If the daily alertness of a craftsman to the beauty of the thing he says is lost, if he turns into a machine, grinding out patterns, even "good designs" from professional designers can not provide the spark of life which makes a simple thing of wool or wood or recd precious enough to be worth owning, At our best, we admit the distinction between the distinguished craft work of which we are capÃ‚Âable and the catchy repetitious kind of thing we put onto the market to meet what is loosely called "the tourist trade." The implication is that the tourist wants a lot of cheap trinkets instead of one beautiful piece of handicraft. Anyone who is watching the trinket traffic of the state and county fairs is bound to wonder about the homes which receive the bloated pottery bull-dogs, the halfÃ‚Ânaked celluloid doll babies and the chaotic blankets. A family whose house is stuffed with loot from fairs and Christmas trees, walled with floral paper and carpeted extravagantly with geometric linoleum, kept by women who clothe themselves and their girl-children in insistent printed fabrics, is not going to spend fifteen dollars for a softly textured blanket of singing grays, or a bench whose lines are pure and whose surface lets you feel through to the color and the texture of a cherry tree. The blanket and the chair belong to people who do not let their homes become stuffed with unÃ‚Ârelated trinkets and distractingly varied patterns. They invite the one who buys them to order and simplify his surroundings, to make his home a setting for human life, with space enough for children, and ideas, to be born and to grow. The craftsman of this time and place answers with his life and his products the question of the place of handicraft in this century. He may prosÃ‚Âtitute himself to "tourist trade" and flood a trinket-flooded market with more trinkets. He may comfort himself with the belief that his trinkets are better in their design or more skillful in their workmanship than are the trinkets of his neighbor craftsman. But if he is a designer craftsman, with love of life and people as well as hunger for bread, he will not be satisfied with letting tourist demands for less-than-a-dollar purchases keep him from weaving the blanket that is as soft and as gray and white as the clouds, or building the bench which is as honest and as whole and right as a living cherry tree. The designer craftsmen may become a force leading this civilization to a peace it does not know, or they may lose their way and spend their lives in hysterically making trinkets which are as confused as the minds of the people who buy them and the houses to which they go. The bench will not be sold so swiftly as the whistle or the scrap of whittling. A hundred tiny finger towels may pass over the counter before the blanket is sold. Put the chair and the blanket help the craftsman stand erect; they help him tell the seeker of trinkets that he is an originator as well as a repeater of designs; that he can make things that are fit to live with. Moreover the craftsman who nourishes himself with their making will probably be able to put onto the market a whistle, a finger towel and a little basket, "under-a-dollar" but beautiful and whole. Perhaps it takes a craftsman to respect and to love without blindness the work of a craftsman. Perhaps every craftsman of there and now owes it to himself, as well as to the people who make up his buying public, to show his goods, to direct his sales talk and his publicity material in such a way that the public comes in contact with the integrity of the craft as soon as with the capacity of the craft for producing inexpensive gifts or mementoes of a journey north or south or cast or west. With our crowded shops and our greed for showing many things at one time in small space, we encourage trinket buying and we make effecÃ‚Âtive choice very difficult. We are as responsible for tourist taste as tourists are responsible for our production of insignificant things. We are in part responsible for the houses of America which are painfully cluttered with little figures that arc clever and empty, with vases that are self-conscious and embarrassed by flowers, with silly pictures which wear silly frames, with furniture which is an exhibition of our power to manipulate wood and to complicate the lives of housekeepers. The people who live in cluttered houses are easily attracted by cleverness and prettiÃ‚Âness and imitation. Like children, they buy and carry home as much as their arms and their budget can hold. They dust it and move it from shelf to shelf and from room to room. Sometimes, in a fit Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK page 7 of fatigue or generosity, they give a part of it away and it goes to live on other shelves in other houses. There are houses in America which are spacious and uncluttered and beautiful. They do not belong to any one economic group. They belong to people who know that a house is a place to live in, rather than a museum of unrelated stuff collected by inhabitants who cannot remember the circles they have run except in terms of the loot they have gathered. The people who live in uncluttered houses are not attracted by trinkets. They do not want to burden their homes or their friends' home, their wardrobes or their friends' wardÃ‚Ârobes, with clever, non-functional, unbeautiful things. They seek out materials honestly and richly used, designs which are whole and show some premise of taking their places in the larger design of a specific home or a specific wardrobe. They are a ready-made market for special orders for specific settings. They are an invitation to keep handicraft an art, as well as to use handicraft as a meal ticket. If the craftsman can not offer significant deÃ‚Âsigns to these people, these people will not linger in his shop. They will leave the shop to trinket colÃ‚Âlectors and go to the market where machines have deposited a wealth of finely composed fabrics and furniture, and there perhaps they will find fifty blankets as soft and gray and white as clouds, and fifty cherry benches which will be easy to dust and comfortable to use. A blanket and a stool, purchased on the machine market, will not have the personal identity that mark the one-at-a-time stool, the one-at-a-time blanket a craftsman makes. However, if the deÃ‚Âsigner for the machine has been a great designer, one of his blankets and one of his stools will be at home with the people of uncluttered houses. The craftsman's necessity for a big turnover of under-a-dollar merchandise need not mean that that merchandise be dull in design or non-funcÃ‚Âtional in its character. If we can remember that we arÃ‚Â° making things for people to use and to enjoy, and remember that what we make is an unÃ‚Âlying statement of who we really are, our inexÃ‚Âpensive things will be as surely right and interesting and useful and beautiful as our more expensive things. Each thing we make can have a kind of life within itself. It can be honestly made, and the craftsman can have his fun varying a familiar theme often enough to keep it alive and interesting to him. If this ceases to be true, and if the craftsÃ‚Âman allows himself to become a slave repeating his under-a-dollar sales hits, he will lose his sensiÃ‚Âtiveness and his strength for adventure and become incapable of meeting the needs of people who deÃ‚Âmand that there 6;, rightness and beauty in every thing they buy. The craftsman is not a machine, capable of unÃ‚Âlimited repetition and mechanical precision. UnÃ‚Âless a craftsman understands and feels his design, it dies in his hands. Design can not be injected into a craftsman who is living the life of a patternÃ‚Ârepeating machine. Rather, design is the life force o f a craftsman projected into material. Unless the craftsman has that force, unless he can see and feel and know the beauty of the thing he builds growing in his hands, he can not even copy a design with vitality. His grandmother's patterns must be re-created, with the excitement of new materials and fresh colors and of new days of weaving. If they are not, they will be pale echoes of the days when other generations made things for people, instead of for the market. The need for every craftsman to know and trust and enjoy himself and the designer in himself, is greater than his need for surface knowledge of what is "smart this year." It is greater than his need for patterns prescribed for him by profesÃ‚Âsional designers. If, through mistrust or fear or disbelief or fatigue, a craftsman has chloroformed his capacity for feeling his composition, for varyÃ‚Âing his pattern, he will dull to mediocrity every design that comes into his hands. If he is alert and alive and stimulated by the confidence and the criticism of other people, he will keep his work alive whether his designs have come from natural forms, from traditional sources, from a contempoÃ‚Ârary designer, or from his own imagination. The business man who is present in each one of us shakes his head and says: but that all takes time; and who will pay for it and how could you tell people who read mail order catalogues about it? and a lot of our workers are unskilled students to whom craft is a means of livelihood, and you can not trust unskilled students to vary a design, because they are sure to ruin it. The artist craftsman who is present in each of us may not have a ready answer, but he knows that, Page 8 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 unless we together find the answer, handicraft in this century will become a pitiful farce. Unless we find the answer the handicraft industry may have to die and be born again in a world where machine art is teaching us anew the honor of function and the every-dayness of beauty. What do we make, in these Southern Highlands, that is at home in the presence of the Egyptian carving, the Greek vase, the Russian weaving, the Chinese metal work? Each of us knows his own proud answers, and each of us can, with those answers to give him strength, go to his private chamber of horrors, look squarely at the stuff that is not fine, and face the fact that it is as unfit to be purchased as is the trash which comes from a misdirected machine. Each of us, knowing his strength, can face his weakness and build a road through it or over it, around it, beyond it. That road will never be built by fear: fear of theft; fear of criticism; fear of experiment; fear of competitive machines; fear of change. The fear of theft is the fear of a poor man. A sales-hit can be stolen from one craftsman by another, but a healthily inventive person does not need to steal a design. If his design is stolen he will be capable of evolving another and better one, and another and another. He knows that the life of a design can not be stolen, and that he who steals loses more than he gains. Fear of criticism may imprison a craftsman in limitations whch he might otherwise outgrow. Criticism is an air-clearing wind rather than a killing frost. When we can give it and take it squarely we know that it is insurance against in-bred designs, and a foil for our sense of who we really are. The fear of change can come between us and our strength. It imposes upon us our fear of experiment, our fear of competitive machines, our lack of faith in new markets and in a new world. Fear of change is a futile rebellion against a law of life, and a retreat from life to death. When fear of change dominates our procedures, we find in the handicraft industry of the twentieth century an aching set of problems and we are blind to the reality of a new world which we might help to build. The distinguished handicraft workers of other eras, and the restless hungry people of our own time, encourage us to throw this meeting open to questions whose answers are sign posts pointing to roads that lead on into tomorrow: Who has the courage to stop whittling trinkets and to focus his energy upon the wood sculpture which is stirring in these mountains? Who has a belief in wood sculpture fierce enough to rescue it from the suffocation of catalogue descriptions and prices? Who will weave fabrics as fit for the houses of today and tomorrow as coverÃ‚Âlets were fit for the houses of yesterday? Who dares to face the fact that the new world of interior architecture has no use for isolated patterns whose identities rcÃ‚Âfuse to relate themselves to a larger order of space and form? Who will design wall hangings and rugs capable of bringing accents of beauty, made by hand, to interiors architecturally conceived? Who is making, by hand, things which will be at home with broad areas of machine weaving and the infalÃ‚Âlible edges of machine-manipulated wood and metal? Who cares as much for the quality of the thing he says as for the skill with which he says it? Who has an answer for the consumers of things "made by hand" who are asking where they will find, today, handicraft comparable to that of Czechoslovakia. Poland, Roumania, Denmark and GerÃ‚Âmany? Who is as concerned with handicraftÃ‚Âtoday as with the remembrances of what handicraft was, yesterday? Who dares to experiment with new materials, and who has strength to find new and signifiÃ‚Âcant ways of handling a material as familiar and as promising as our native cotton? Who cares as much what effect his goods will have upon the people who buy them as he cares whether his goods will "take" with the buying public? Who is willing to meet man's need for handicraft hobbies and to contemplate the possibility that the people of 1942 will want help in finding the health which Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 9 may come through the making of things by hand? Who will move beyond his fears, and lift himself above the fairy stories about art and the success stories about business? Who can face the fact that this so-easilyÃ‚Âtalked-about "creativeness" is the power to build something whole and right? It is the power to project the order on one's mind and the spark of one's life into the things one builds and the procedures one follows, and the relationships one has with other people. The machine is not a barbarian waiting to pounce upon its gentle sister, the handicrafts. It is a great power for good and a great power for e'I which challenges the handicraftsman to virile vi 1 1 1 living and virile thinking. The fate of handicraft in this century is in the hands of us and people like us. A tradition which the world respects and a hunger which it does not outgrow is in our keepÃ‚Â ing. If we are strong enough, handicraft may be a force in helping the race of man remember that the machine is his tool and not his master; that there is, within each one of us who breathes, a precious quality of life which makes a man different from a machine. THE SHUTTLE By NELLIE I. CRABB Blue country, Green country; Floating white In the daytime Accenting the blueness; Sunshine touching The grass blades, Making green gold; Frost on the hillside, Working with color On trees and bushes. Country boy, turning His back on the brilliance, Stands at the crossroads, Thumb-poised and waiting. Black city, White city; Color of signs Accenting the blackness; Smoke from power-plants Stealing the whiteness; Black-white city, Responding to man, Strong man, busy With steel and cement. Country boy, breathless, Watches the builder. Blue country, Green country; Who is this man, Dressed like a stranger, Looking hard at the hill-slope, Searching its contour? What makes him start And then lean On a tree-trunk, Looking and looking, Then looking again? Freckled boy, watching, Begs the tall stranger, "Take me back with you; I want to build." Page W MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 194 UNCLE JEFF'S CHILDREN'S CHILDREN by ARTHUR M. BANNERMAN We who are mountain workers at times feel as lost as the babes in the woods. We know that we are living in one of the great "problem areas" of the country, and we know that our task is to mitigate those problems and improve that area, but we are not always confident we are making progress in the right direction. We are disturbed when we realize that a community station which has been taking every ounce of our energies for years has made the community itself little better off than it was when our work began; we are disÃ‚Âcouraged when we know that our rural church is no nearer self-support than when we preached our first enthusiastic sermon to the congregation. We are forced to a rationalization which does not satÃ‚Âisfy; and down in our hearts we wonder just when and where we lost the way. It is not that the passing years have been withÃ‚Âout their rewards. Many people have come to us in time of need; we have been able to lighten a burden here and bring a bit of sunshine there; we have helped the young people get away to school; we have organized clubs and societies of one kind and another. But in spite of all these things the community itself continues to be weighted down with poverty; there has been no marked transÃ‚Âformation in the life of the people, and we ask ourselves whether fundamental conditions are ever going to be very much better. We go to conferences for new inspiration; we try to get our supporting constituencies to give us added help so that we can broaden our services; an improved road or a faster automobile permits us to extend our work; we hear of a fellow worker who is making a name for himself through a novel approach to the old probÃ‚Âlems and we go to study his methods, yet none of these things is entirely satisfying. We are afraid we are dealing with palliatives rather than curesÃ‚Âwe wish we were more certain that our program was fundamentally sound. It is true we cured Aunt Molly, who fell through a hole in the kitchen floor and cut her knee; however, if Aunt Molly's daughÃ‚Âter is going to fall through the same hole ten years hence, what has been the use! We were glad to provide Uncle Jeff's children with shoes to see them through the winter; but if Uncle Jeff's chil- dren's children are in turn going to need shoes, what profit has there been! More subsidy, more relief, more WPA, more Foundation support-if we look down the years and see these as the only answers to the problems of our depressed mountain communities, it is a discouraging prospect indeed. With some of these perplexing problems in mind the writer decided last spring to make an intensive study of a typical western North Carolina comÃ‚Âmunity in which a church board has been spendÃ‚Âing several thousand dollars annually for a con- siderable period of years. During those years alÃ‚Âmost every type of community program offered by private agencies in the mountains has at one time or another been initiated. There was a hosÃ‚Âpital staffed by trained physicians, and later a nursing service; there have been ministers and comÃ‚Âmunity workers, a craftsman and an agriculturist; and scores of young people have gone out of the community to attend privately supported mounÃ‚Âtain schools and colleges. Much of this work conÃ‚Âtinues, and he would be graceless indeed who atÃ‚Âtempted to under-evaluate the good which has been done through the healing of the sick, the inspiring of religious hope in the discouraged, the stimulation of healthful recreation, the teaching of crafts and improved agriculture methods, the health program, and the thousand individual erÃ‚Ârands of mercy to those in need. In spite of all these things, however, it is apparÃ‚Âent that there continues to be something fundaÃ‚Âmentally wrong with the community, for the people are leaning about as heavily as ever on others for support, and they are little better able to help themselves now than they were a generÃ‚Âation ago. The purpose of the projected study was to try to find some clue to this disconcerting sitÃ‚Âuation. It has been stated that this community is "typiÃ‚Âcal" of rural western North Carolina. Obviously, no community is entirely "typical" of anything but itself, and no division of the Southern MounÃ‚Âtains is like any other division. The mountain rI ide valleys and fertile plateaus eg on contains wi 1 where the farmers are as well off as elsewhere Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 11 over the country; the coal areas with their conÃ‚Âgested mining camps have their own peculiar set of problems, and the industrial communities belong to another economic classification. However, this community has hundreds very much like it in the mountains of North Carolina, Tennessee and elseÃ‚Âwhere. It is one of those rural communities which is too remote to make it possible for its people to get a supplementary living from business or inÃ‚Âdustry, and its economic life is centered almost entirely in farming-farming which is summed up tersely in the statement of one of the local men who said, "We sell our tobacco and feed our corn." Further, a natural geographic subdivision of the larger community was selected for the survey, but it is reasonable to suppose that much the same reÃ‚Âsults would have been found for the greater comÃ‚Âmunity of several thousand people, for the pattern of life is much the same everywhere. The community itself stretches along the valley and for a mile or so back on either side of the road. 'thereafter the topography becomes too rough and steep for any attempt at cultivation, and the mountainsides beyond are covered with timber. As on most of our Southern Mountain forest land, however, lumber companies got out all the original stand, and except for fence posts, firewood, and similar farm needs the forests offer no hope of giving a sustained income to the people for several decades to come. Although limited in quantity, the bottom land is good, and the less rugged slopes may in part be profitably cultivated or pastured. Here, then, is the basis for sound rural life on a limited scale. The question one imÃ‚Âmediately asks is, "Why has it not been achieved?" Are the people too "triflin' and no account?" Do they not know how to farm? Do they not have any interest in a better life? Some observers are content to thus summarize the situation and thereafter turn their attention to more pleasant considerÃ‚Âations. But that attitude fails to satisfy those who have a deep-seated regard for the mountain people or a real interest in their welfare. True, there are lazy people and mentally backÃ‚Âward people in the mountains as there are elseÃ‚Âwhere over the world, but there are intelligent, ambitious ones, too, and the great host of them are "just folks" like people everywhere. They have their joys and their sorrows, their hopes and their disappointments, their failings and their virtues; and one who tries to dismiss them with a shrug knows nothing about them. Let us turn, then, to this community and try to discover what its difficulties are. We find there are 62 families or 284 people living in it. Only 34 families, or 54 percent of the total number, howÃ‚Âever, are earning their entire income from the land or from business carried on within the community itself. These 34 families had a total income last year of $13,417.50, or $394.63 per family. By "income" is meant the entire livelihood of the family, whether farm products produced and conÃ‚Âsumed at home, goods sold or traded, or wages received. To a considerable extent they represent the most stable element in community life, since they are not dependent on WPA, CCC or other relief agencies for support. They have no pensions from the government or other non-productive inÃ‚Âcome. Only one of these families had an income of more than $1,000-it was $1,317.70. Seven received less than $200, the lowest was $148.60. The average income per family for the entire comÃ‚Âmunity last year was $524.52. The self-sustaining farm families, therefore, are in a less favorable position than those sharing in relief projects such as WPA, or as teachers in the local school. (Under the North Carolina program of state-supported schools, the community school itself is in large measure a subsidized institution.) Added to the foregoing group of 34 families, 13 others are dependent on farming for the major source of their income, thus making a total of 47 farm families. The remaining 15 families are alÃ‚Âmost entirely subsidized for their support, whether by the government or by private agencies. Using the 47 families as a base, therefore, it is interesting to measure the total land resources available for them. This is of primary concern, for land is the one resource of importance in the community. An exhaustive study of other possible resources was made, and while it is not possible to present the detailed findings here, it is sufficient to note that small industrial units, recreational development, the government forests, fireside industries, mining enterprises, or employment in industry outside the community offer very little prospect of making a marked improvement in the economic situation. In other words, so far as present signs go, the land must continue to constitute the base of economic life in the years ahead. At the same time it shouldbe held in mind that all land in the district which could possibly be cultivated is already in use, and that rather than there being untouched resources in this direction, some of this cultivated land should be returned to forest because of its steepness and eroded condition. The total farm acreage of the entire community is 2440.7. But of this total 1812.4 acres are in woodland, and there are only 504.6 acres under cultivation and 123.7 acres in pasture. This means that there are single farms elsewhere in America with a total cultivated pasÃ‚Âture acreage as large as that from which 47 families in this community are dependent for their living. The average land-holding for the 47 families is 10.7 acres of cultivated land and 2.6 acres of pasture. A tabulation of the farm products showed that the income last year from tobacco, the only cash crop of importance, was $8,397.85, and that no marked increase from this source could be expected because of the uncertainty of the tobacco market, the labor necessary for its growth, and the limited amount of land suitable for tobacco culture. A study of corn production, the second major crop, showed that 129 acres, or an average of 2.8 per farm, were grown last year. The average yield of 21.3 bushels per acre is low but there is no easy remedy for its improvement. Often the corn patch is on the side of a steep hill in stony, eroded soil. Sound land use dictates that it be taken out of cultivation, but if it is the only piece which the owner has, how is he going to produce the corn which he grinds for home use, and that which he feeds to the chickens, the cow and the hog? SecÃ‚Âondly, the corn is a soil depleting crop, and each year the land raises a more meager supply. But commercial fertilizer is high, and the scarcity of farm animals means there is little manure available for use on the land. Improved seed corn, however, would help the situation. Other products of importance include hay, garÃ‚Âden produce, poultry, cattle and hogs. The conÃ‚Âclusion of the study of the farming situation was that the available land resources are being pushed to capacity to meet the needs of the people, and that those who off-hand condemn these mountain farmers for being shiftless or lazy are ignorant of the true conditions under which they are working. Considering the poverty of their resources, the people of the community are doing remarkably MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 well. They do not complain, they accept their lot with stoicism, and they want to preserve their ecoÃ‚Ânomic independence. The great majority of their homes are clean and sanitary, and the evidence is that the people are capitalizing on every resource to make something out of their lives. Naturally, more scientific methods of stock and poultry raisÃ‚Âing, of corn and tobacco production, or cooperÃ‚Âative methods of buying and marketing would make a measurable improvement in farm life, but it is difficult indeed to see how these things alone can bridge the gap between penury and a satisÃ‚Âfactory, self-sustaining life. The question is raised, "Just how great is the gap?" That communities of this type will ever have an abundance of goods, or will ever find themselves enjoying a measure of prosperity equal to that of more favored rural communities out of the mountains, is questionable. It is probably more wise to assume that conditions in isolated sections of the country will always be retarded in comÃ‚Âparison with those in more favored sections, and, therefore, that acceptable standards of living for them should be measured in terms of local rather than state or national norms. With this in mind an attempt was made to see the community through the eyes of the people themselves, as well as through the eyes of those whose background of judgment rests in an entirely different setting. Yet even among the local people there is a difference of opinion as to what conÃ‚Âstitutes a satisfactory life. One agressive, ambitious farmer wants a farm equipped with modern maÃ‚Âchinery and sufficient income to send all his chilÃ‚Âdren off to college; and at the same time he states that some of his neighbors are "too triflin', no account and lazy" to deserve any help or considerÃ‚Âation. Yet one of these same neighbors said with complacent conviction, "Folks live as well here in these mountains as anywhere else in the country; they have plenty to eat, a roof over their heads, and clothes to keep them warm. What more could a man ask for?" Incidentally, this man is on WPA a part of the year, and twice recently he has had to depend on the community station to support him through emergencies which developed in his home. Yet it is safe to say that if there had been no WPA employment available, or a community station on which to depend, this individual would have gotten along somehow, for he belongs to that class of Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 13 people who accept the exigencies of life with comÃ‚Âplete unconcern. In setting up goals for the future of the community how much weight is to be given to the attitudes of these two extreme positions? Is the "triflin', no account" individual to be eduÃ‚Âcated away from his complacency and his quiet unconcern for his poverty? Is his agressive, ambiÃ‚Âtious neighbor to be taken as the standard for the community? Obviously, the goal lies somewhere between the two positions. Travel, electric washing machines or refrigerators, more than one suit of clothes, bath rooms, steam heat, and even autoÃ‚Âmobiles are beyond the dreams of the great maÃ‚Âjority of the people. About all they ask for is adequate shelter, plain food, simple clothing, medical care, and some security against misforÃ‚Âtunes when they come. But even these few wants are not supplied adequately today in spite of the heavy subsidization of the community. Between the extremes of the wants of the least ambitious and the most ambitious there is a group of self-supporting families whose opinion was sought in order to determine a workable basis for sound community life. These families live simply, but their home life is stabilized; and they are conÃ‚Âstructive factors in the social order in which they find themselves. To arrive at a fair standard of living for the community as a whole, this group was asked to express that standard of living in terms of land. It has been stated that the present land holdings for the 47 farm families is 10.7 acres of cultivated land and 2.6 acres of pasture land, or a total of 13.3 acres other than woodland. Some of those who were consulted as to minimum reÃ‚Âquirements for a self-sustaining farm gave estiÃ‚Âmates between 15 and 20 acres; others thought that at least 30 were essential. Taking these estimates and other factors into consideration it was decided to use 20 acres of open land as the basis of compuÃ‚Âtation for a self-supporting farm. This, it is eviÃ‚Âdent, is a minimum rather than a maximum average. At present there are 504.6 acres of land in the community under cultivation and 123.7 acres in pasture. But of this total of 628.3 acres, a survey indicated that some 50 acres have so little value they should be returned to forest land. Therefore, using 20 acres as a minimum essential for a selfÃ‚Âsupporting farm, there should be only 29 farm families in the community rather than the present number of 47. Of the remaining 15 families, 10 have a regular income from other legitimate sources. Therefore, there is a group of 23 families, or 37 Jo of the total population, which has no expectation of ever making a productive living in the community. Within this over-population situation lies the root of most community difficulties. No amount of zealous preaching, no amount of health service, and no amount of programs for youth are going to create a self-supporting church, a living for a rWent doctor or nurse, or a happily maturing esi group of young people, until a community planÃ‚Âning commission, with authority to act, sets up a master plan a=hick will assist in the reduction of population pressure, take eroded land out of cultiÃ‚Âvation, close out homesteads at the heads of coves and on steep hillsides where homes were never meant to be, consolidate existing farms on a sound economic basis, and in general set up and work toward an acceptable pattern of community life. There is space here only to list the essential steps and problems which go with such planning. The state legislature must pass the necessary enabling acts for the local governmental units to set up their planning commissions; there is the problem of resettlement and the adequate vocational training of mountain young people so that they can successÃ‚Âfully meet the competition they will face in the outside world; there is the stimulation and eduÃ‚Âcation of local leadership so that it will be preÃ‚Âpared to participate in community planning; there is the need for a thorough analysis of each comÃ‚Âmunity in all phases of its life; and basic to all of these is the educative process, from the local community to the state capital, before anyone will take action. A few states have already begun to move in this direction, and the Wisconsin plan, in particular, is well worth studying in the light of Southern Mountain conditions. While admitting the need for sound community planning, some may claim this is not the job of the rural minister, the community worker, or the mountain school. We may be nonplussed by the magnitude of the task; we are afraid of petty local politicians and their influence. Further, we may wonder just where to begin. Too often we have caught the blind-acceptance attitude of our people, and we are content to try to stem the flood rather Page 14 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK than repair the dam. We go about our daily tasks a part of our thinking and planning, the spectre of with only immediate, rather than ultimate, objec- Uncle Jeff's children's children will continue to tives in mind. But until the ultimate also becomes haunt us. IMPORTANT eANNOUNCEMENTS Knoxville Conference The First Baptist Church, Knoxville, Tennessee, is extending hospitality to the twenty-ninth anÃ‚Ânual gathering of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers meeting in the city, March 4-6, 1941. Mark these dates on your calendar now and begin to make your definite plans to attend. Study Club Short Course Plans are now being made for the first Short Course for Study Club members which will be held in January in connection with the Berea OpporÃ‚Âtunity School at Berea College, Kentucky. For those who can only stay a limited time an inÃ‚Âtensive one week's course will be offered from January 6-13, but certain courses will continue throughout the Opportunity School which closes January 27 for those who can remain longer. A limited number of scholarships covering all exÃ‚Âpenses including instruction, meals, room and transportation are available. Those interested may write to the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, Berea, Kentucky. Mountain Folk Festival It is a pleasure to announce that the Mountain Folk Festival has been given a cordial invitation to hold its sixth meeting at Berea College. The Festival Committee has accepted the offer. The dates for the event will be April 17-19, 1941. DorÃ‚Âmitory accommodation will not be available but delegates will be comfortably and reasonably housed at Boone Tavern and in tourist homes. Meals will again be served by Berea College in the basement of Union Church. The annual circular letter containing complete information regarding the Mountain Folk Festival will shortly be mailed. Any interested party who has not received a copy by November 1 st should write for information to: Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, Berea, Kentucky. Third Folk Dance School We announce with pleasure the third annual Folk Dance School sponsored by the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers to be held on the Berea College campus, December 27, 1940, to January 4, 1941. Miss May Gadd, Director of the Country Dance Society and a member of the Recreational Advisory Committee of the ConferÃ‚Âence, will again be in charge of the instruction. She w*11 be ass*ste 1 1 1 1 d by Frank H. Smith, Recreational Director of the Conference, who also will be in charge of the organization of the School. As in previous years the program of the Folk Dance School will include classes in American and English country dances, and in Morris and Sword. Informal occasions for group singing will be arranged. Talks by Miss Gadd and others ill deal with the historical background of the 1 1 1 1 dances, folk dance teaching technique, and rural recreational problems. Opportunity to enjoy the facilities of the attractive Berea College campus will be afforded. Those interested are asked to write to the office of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, Berea, Kentucky, for information. For students who are enrolled in any college or high school in the Southern Highlands, a limited amount of scholarship aid is available. Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 15 HIGHLANDER FOLK SCHOOL An Informal History BY LEON WILSON Time was when the American land was a big land-too big, apparently, ever to become too small. Forests covered the continent in a mighty shade. Men girdled and fell and burned as they pleased, for trees were demonstrably too many. The wild grasses of the plains grew saddle high. Firing them was prime sport. The buffalo were so plentiful that people didn't bother eating more than the tongue. The bounties of the land, palpably too rich ever to be exhausted, implored and reÃ‚Âceived the ravishing hand. The American land is no longer so big, and the day of the wandering pioneer, reckless of resources and answerable to no one but himself, has passed. Instead there is this enormously complex integraÃ‚Âtion of specialized and cooperative effort, of techÃ‚Ânology and communication. Government no longer takes effect by means of mounted courier but is with us our every living hour. We millions of people are intimately, irrevocably bound together, not one of us beyond influence of the civilization we have created. Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief-so the child's rhyme ties them together. It is not a senseÃ‚Âless association: the motivating desire of each is the desire for a better life; the common problem of making it come to pass. Comparatively few of us are sufficiently acÃ‚Âquainted with the possibilities of our democracy to derive from it the satisfaction which it can afford to all. Even in the relatively simple day of its birth, the will of the people to be active in it could not be had by the mere posting of a handbill or convention of the governing body. The plight still exists. A rational, profitable participation in the democratic way o f life is not possible to the uneducated. "Public schools," declares Myles Horton, "should be one of the most important agencies for the shaping of attitudes necessary for the achieveÃ‚Âment of a democratic society. In so far as they fail to do this they are not adequate to the needs of the masses of people in whose interest they were established."I Where and how to start in on those most seriously handicapped by this lack in the pubÃ‚Âlic school system was the question facing Don West and Myles Horton when, in 1932, fresh from colÃ‚Âlege, they decided to open a school of their own. Their background of rearing in the Southern Mountains helped narrow the field: both felt sucÃ‚Âcess would be surer in a territory that was familiar. Myles Horton had a theory that the most likely unit for social education was the community, and his vision of this new school was a rural settlement house, an idea which gained him the praise and enÃ‚Âcouragement of the late Jane Addams. Questing for a location the two men eventually met Dr. Lillian Johnson, of Memphis. For more than ten years Dr. Johnson had maintained an active and valuable community center near MontÃ‚Âeagle, Tennessee, on the southern edge of the Cumberland Plateau. At the time, however, her fine big farm building with its garden and acres of woods was no longer in use, and it was made a'lable to these young educators for a year of val experimentation. The property was offered for that time as a gift: a fortunate thing, for the school's treasury, at two hundred dollars, was hardly overflowing. Grundy County, homeland of the debutant inÃ‚Âstitution, was ideally rich in opportunities for activity. For the greater part of the population, living had been reduced to mere existing. Barely half the small farms, their soil weak in lime and phosphate, provided livelihoods for their owners or tenants. The forests, covering 92 percent of the land, had been ruthlessly handled. Two billion feet of timber had been removed in a period of seventyÃ‚Âfive years and no provision made for the perpetuÃ‚Âation of species commercially valuable. Three coal mines, accounting for a quarter of the total emÃ‚Âployment, were operating (as they do today) only part time, giving each employee no more than a hundred days of work a year. Taxes were in an unbelievable state of delinquency and had been so for many years. Accordingly, county functionsÃ‚Âincluding the vital function of relief-were underÃ‚Â1 The Community School, D. Appleton Century Com- pany, 1938 Page 16 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK F3!!, 1940 financed to a point where they were hopelessly inÃ‚Âeffective. The Highlander Folk School opened its doors for business in November, 1932. Two months passed, the staff living on beans and potatoes, beÃ‚Âfore the first student took up residence. More IN THIS CLASS A MINER, TENANT FARMER, CANNERY WORKER, GARMENT MAKER, CANDY WORKER, AND WPA WORKER DISCUSS UNION PROBLEMS. months passed before there was anything that more academic educators than these would recognize as a curriculum. A neighbor had an unruly child. Discussion of its behavior turned, after a few evenings, into a class in psychology. A class in cultural geography sprang from the perusal of some photographs taken in Europe: customs and conditions of people abroad were instructively contrasted with those of Americans. Teachers and students traveled to obÃ‚Âserve firsthand a coal miners' strike. Out of the expedition came a class in theoretical and practical economics. From discussion of the presidential candidates of 1932 grew a class in political analysis. The social developments of the ScanÃ‚Âdinavian countries were studied. Race problems were investigated, and then the trade union moveÃ‚Âment. One of the resident students organized a draÃ‚Âmatic club, and presently the community was comÃ‚Âing to the school to behold itself acting plays wrought of material supplied by local problems. Another student played the piano. She organized a community music class. So many children wanted lessons that arrangements were made with the neighborhood public school to give them during school hours. Music, in a multiplicity of forms, has played a big part in the school's program throughÃ‚Âout its history. For years, due to tacit disapproval of the church element, there had been no dancing in the community. The school brought dancing back-the fine, exciting square dances native to the region. The traditional ditties and story ballads were sung-not from the lips only, in worship of their antiquity, but for the same reason the square dances were danced: for their inherent, living merit. Students were encouraged to make up ballads of their own, words and music; a HighÃ‚Âlander belief, amply substantiated in practice, is that people can readily be taught to express themÃ‚Âselves constructively in a variety of forms. A circuÃ‚Âlating library was begun. The school could not afÃ‚Âford to buy books with the free hand it wanted (nor can it today, unhappily!) but the gifts of friends and the rejectamenta of public libraries soon filled to overflowing the room dedicated for the purpose. Students were given individual inÃ‚Âstruction in the use of source material. They were encouraged to write and speak in direct, effective ways. Word spread as to what was going on and presÃ‚Âently the school's services were being demanded outside the area strictly definable as community. The teachers took to the field, holding educational meetings with groups of miners and farmers and relief workers. The program was already twofold, consisting of resident work and community work; now, evolving naturally, came the third phase, that of extension work. Today Highlander puts its staff in the field as much as possible and literally thousands of rural and industrial workers in the southeastern states receive at one time or anÃ‚Âother during the year the services of classes, disÃ‚Âcussion meetings, cultural and recreational activiÃ‚Âties. The work of the first year bore out the founders' theories so satisfactorily that they have served ever since as the fundamental teaching method. Useful information, and useful only, was imÃ‚Âparted. No subject was broached that did not have the the demand of the students or did not grow logically from their interests. Information was never offered simply in hopes there would be a taker; it was offered at the particular moment the student needed it. The unfailing result was that it was assimilated and put to use. A cooperative basis was early adopted for the school's adminÃ‚Âistration. To this day no one member of the staff has ever been solely responsible for the formulation Fall, 1940 of policy. The result: a maximum of flexibility in the application of effort and a minimum of fruitless diversions. There have been many teachers at Highlander. All have felt the direct, living quality of the approach and have made advanÃ‚Âtageous use of it. The gauge of any school's useÃ‚Âfulness would seem to be the capabilities and activities of its alumni. Judged by the records, Highlander can justly be proud. How best can Highlander's community program be appraised? Perhaps by a glance at some of the organizations whose existence is in every case traceable to its educational activity. An impressive number of cooperative endeavors have developed since the advent of the school. Two cooperative gardens ran in the summer of 1939, one for ten families, the other for eighteen. A cooperative canÃ‚Âning project was carried through by seven families. The Summerfield Cooperative, now flourishing, raised its modest capital by means of county-wide rummage sales. Today it is making patchwork q"Its to order, the only commercial venture it has ul I I yet undertaken, but it has just assisted in the buildÃ‚Â ing of a kiln on the Folk School property and an experienced teacher is working with the group in pottery. It might be well to point out, by the way, especially for the benefit of those who see a soluÃ‚Â tion to hunger in a mass pursuit of handcrafts, that this region has been primarily industrial since the days of the Civil War. The manual arts have never flourished, have never provided anyone more than a supplemental income, and few of the people enÃ‚Â tertain the idea that prosperity can be arrived at by their cultivation. In 1933 the cutters of "bugwood"-timber havÃ‚Âing no value except for chemical reduction-saw the futility of trying to keep their families alive on seventy-five cents a day. They formed a union the purpose of which was to prevent the wholesale destruction of the forests and better the condition of the community by raising wages. The woods were promptly deserted. And when the strikers were informed by a representative of the Tennessee Products Corporation that it was against the law to strike, they could afford to laugh at him for they had learned better. In 1936, after months of unsatisfactory manÃ‚Âagement of the Works Progress Administration, three unions of the workers were formed. Despite patient orderly protest of these groups to the state MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK administrator conditions were not improved. A mass sit-down was eventually staged in the local headquarters of the Administration. In 1938 Labor's Political Conference of Grundy County was formed for the specific purpose of breaking the politicians' time-hallowed control of county offices. A union backed sheriff was voted BILL GILLIS, HIGH POiNl, NORM CAROLINA, TEXTILE WORKER, PRACTICES PUBLIC SPEAKING ON FELLOW STUDENTS. in, three union backed road commissioners, and a union backed superintendent of schools. The PoliÃ‚Âtical Conference later dissolved and then reformed as a unit of the national Labor's Non-Partisan League. In the Summerfield district of the county a ComÃ‚Âmunity Council was formed bringing together for discussion and action on community problems a member of the local workers' union, member of the Methodist Church, member of the Brotherhood (young people's club), a Seventh Day Adventist, the grammar school teacher, a teacher from HighÃ‚Âlander. These elements, not always in harmony as individuals, cooperated wonderfully during the year the Council was active, putting through many projects of value to the community. At the very first meeting plans were drafted for the formation of a local Parent-Teachers Association. There was other progress, as noted in the minutes November 30, 1938, second month of the Council's career: "Mrs. Starr reported on the school zone signs. The State Highway Department wrote that they would take care of repairing the signs if it is a State High- Page 18 MOUNTAIN I,II E AND WORK F311, 1940 way, which it is. Mrs. Starr also got the safety patrol bands for the children to wear." From the minutes of February 28, 1939: "Council decided to make a survey of the roads, draw up a report and present it with demands, for crews to set to work on them, to the authorities. If other communities would do the same enough pressure might be brought to make WPA sign a contract with the road commissioners. The roads are in extremely bad condition as they were left unfinished by the shutdown-some families are almost marooned. Motion was made and passed that each Council member bring in a report on roads to the next meeting and that a committee then be appointed to work out the further details and draw up a joint report." From the minutes of the next meeting: "A report of the roads that need fixing was drawn up and Dillard King was authorized to present it to the road commissioners asking them if it was possible to fix them and employ the following men for a few days' work: Ed Eldridge, George Thomas, Jack Thomas, Ed Marlow, Pete Guest, Clifton Thomas." And for the next meeting: "Dillard King reported that the road commissioners upon receipt of the petition to put Summerfield unemployed to work for several days on community roads had promised to try and do so the following week. A request sent in by Myles Horton to beautify the highway through Summerfield with shrubs and plants was turned down due to lack of protection against roving cows." Among general services to the community renÃ‚Âdered by Highlander may be mentioned the outÃ‚Âstanding ones of a radio broadcast to England of folk music and story, the filming of the motion picture People of the Cumberland, and the mainÃ‚Âtenance under direction of the Tennessee Valley Authority of experimental forestation acres. Of particular importance is the Summerfield Nursery School, run by a member of the Highlander Staff, a graduate of the Bank Street Cooperative School for Teachers. Many of the mothers do day work in the summer resorts of near-by Monteagle. Children who would be left in the charge of an older brother or sister, or in no charge at all, are rounded up in Highlander's hard-worked car and brought to the weathered shack that is the Nursery School. Here, playing together, they learn to get on with one another and are given a chance to form conÃ‚Âstructive viewpoints which will save them, as they grow older, from much of the wasteful feeling of futility and uselessness that has colored the lives of their parents. The Nursery School teacher has shown some of these children their first plumbing and electric lights. Much of the activity here described is not strictÃ‚Âly community in scope but is linked, by its very nature, with the resident and extension program. If the following account of this latter makes it sound as if the school has too many irons in the fire to do them justice, it should be stated that the community relationship has been zealously purÃ‚Âsued throughout the school's eight years, and with results that cause the American Public Welfare AsÃ‚Âsociation, in its exhaustive survey of Grundy County, to place Highlander among the five most important group units. The school, comments the survey, "has deep roots in the community in its close identification with the union groups and its active educational program." An economic or cultural boundary between the people of the mountain regions and the people of the industrialized lowlands does not exist, although there are those who confidently believe otherwise. Many of the mountain dwellers have gone far afield in their search for jobs and security: to the cities of the South, to Chicago, to Akron. Many have stayed. Many have come back, broken in spirit and in health. While there are countless numbers who have never been more than ten miles in any direction, they, like their migratory brothÃ‚Âers, are figures in the same national economy, their problems basically those of working people everyÃ‚Âwhere. Unwilling to draw an arbitrary line, wanting to make the most of what it had to offer, HighÃ‚Âlander inevitably began drawing students from far beyond the Cumberlands. They came mostly from the states of the Southeast; occasionally from Texas, Ohio, Minnesota, and in one or two extreme instances from abroad. Forty students, twenty at a time, attend the two r'dence terms that are the backbone of the yearly esi program. The majoriy are sent by a union or coÃ‚Âoperative or like organization and are expected on their return to deal understandingly with the problems of these groups, becoming each one a local educator. The skeleton course, taught in disÃ‚Âcussion sessions, includes such subjects as workers' problems, techniques of organization and cooper- Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 19 anon, study of social legislation, journalism, public speaking, parlimentary law, dramatics, singing, dancing, and workshop instruction in visual aids, poster making, mimeographing, and the like. StuÃ‚Âdents learn to write by putting out a weekly bulleÃ‚Âtin or reporting the story of their lives; to speak, by addressing the student body or a local union meeting. Evenings are given over to the showing of documentary and analytical motion pictures, and to talks by, or discussions with, visiting spokesmen for government agencies, economists, sociologists, writers, and representatives of organÃ‚Âized labor. Field trips have an important place in the curriculum, both for purposes of location study and recreation: swimming, hiking, picnics. The dramatic class will visit neighboring cities with a play it has worked up. The entire student group will go to Chattanooga to sing for a textile workÃ‚Âers convention. In addition to these two intensive sessions HighÃ‚Âlander will probably see during the year a junior Union Camp from Nashville, a week of country life for workers' children most of whom have never been out of the city before; a Writers Workshop, sponsored jointly with the League for American Writers and aimed at assisting young southern writers; a work camp run under the auspices of Work Camps for America or the American Friends Service Committee. And then there will be weekÃ‚Âend conferences for southern workers' groups, receptions for the Antioch Study Tour and the traveling seminar of the National Religion and Labor Foundation. When not needed at home, members of the school's staff will be in the field setting up a cultural and educational program for the Aluminum Workers at Alcoa, leading disÃ‚Âcussions at the Student Christian Conference or a YWCA camp, participating in the United ChrisÃ‚Âtian Conference on Democracy. Members of High- lander were among the original sponsors of the Southern Conference for Human Welfare, and Henry Pirtle, protagonist in the Conference's antiÃ‚Âpoll tax fight now before the United States Supreme Court, is a native of Grundy County. To judge by its activity one would suspect that Highlander was lavishly endowed with money and personnel. Actually it is small in both respects. The staff numbers eight, although it may be augmented now and then by a visiting teacher: Robert Cruden, of the United Rubber Workers, giving a course in union publicity; Ellsworth Smith, of the ChatÃ‚Âtanooga Presbyterian Church, handling a course in cooperatives; John Morgan, of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, providing leadership in recreation, handicrafts, and folk music. The budget, raised by individual contributors, foundaÃ‚Âtions, and unions, is ten thousand dollars a year. All of this goes into the school's work, for the staff receives no salary. Highlander's influence as an educational force derives from many sources: from its first patron, Dr. Lillian Johnson, who on the basis of the school's first year made a permanent gift of the property; from the people and organizations whom it serves; from its advisory committee, ReinÃ‚Âhold Niebuhr, chairman, Mary Van Kleek of the Russell Sage Foundation, Alva Taylor of the Cumberland Homesteads, Dr. Frank Graham of the University of North Carolina; from its friends and contributors: Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, Roger Baldwin, Harry P. Ward, Dr. John B. Thompson, and a host more. There is a belief common to all this array of supporters. It is the belief that the democratic way is the desirable way and that its techniques must be taught if it is ever to reach its fullest development. Through eight years the Highlander Folk School has grounded its every move in this belief, and so will continue. Page 20 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 A brief discussion of folk schools and coopÃ‚Âeratives as they furthered and characterized a great folk movement in Denmark aroused keen interest at the Short Course of the John C. Campbell Folk School, Brasstown, North Carolina, last June. But since the course dealt chiefly with folk dance, folk song, and to some extent folk arts, there was little time to take up the larger aspects of a folk or people's movement. "There ought to be a chance to sit down and just talk as long as we want to!" said one, and this voiced what seemed to be the feeling of a number. To give this opportunity for exploring the possibilities of a folk movement for the South, as thoroughly as three days of open discussion would allow, a tentative call was issued for a small conference at the Folk School, September 20-22. Ready response to this call showed both a sense of the emergency of the times and a heartening faith that "the people" can do something about it. Nearly thirty persons were able to come, and from beginning to tend of the meetings there was no slackening of interest. The discussions resolved themselves into two main considerations: how to arouse and further a folk movement affecting all sides of life-economic, social, educational, reÃ‚Âligious, political; how far it may be a movement of and by the mass of people themselves. In her opening remarks as general chairman, Mrs. Olive Campbell took up the meaning of the word "folk" as used in connection with "folk movement." "Folk song and folk dance," she said, "have come out of the people in the past; they are of the folk; but we are not using the word in that sense. People often think that a folk school is a school to teach folk song, folk dance, and folk arts, whereas these are only some of the means to the end of this school, just as this type of school is one of the means to further a folk movement, or movement of the people. "Obviously a folk movement has roots in the people. Not only does power reside in them (poÃ‚Âtential power which we all recognize), but they are more or less conscious of it, with objectives, A FOLK CONFERENCE BY HARRY CARY energy, initiative, and what someone has called `collective will.' " Mrs. Campbell suggested that analyses of conÃ‚Âditions about us wherever we may be show many factors at work as controlling forces-economic, social, political, educational, religious. We often come to feel very intensely the importance of some one of these. "For example, at one time absentee ownership in Ireland, resulting in `rack rents,' led to a conviction that land ownership would cure all of Ireland's ills. When it did not, cooperatives were held to be the answer. In some of his last articles, George Russell, the great econÃ‚Âomist and writer who worked with Sir Horace Plunkett for the growth of cooperatives, stated that the cooperative movement would have grown faster and more surely if Ireland like Denmark had had folk schools first. "Grundtvig, the fountainhead of the Danish folk movement was not concerned with any special form of government as long as the people were truly free. Popular government was coming, howÃ‚Âever, and if it were to succeed, its citizens must have not only energy and initiative but education -an education not separated from the work of life. Time and again I pause to think of that conception of the needed type of education, for our concept and method of education in America seem to make it hard to have education which does not separate a man from the work of life. Grundtvig's idea of education was enlightenment, on the sound assumption that it is useless to fill with knowledge or stir to action unless these are governed by a higher conception of life." Mrs. Campbell felt that we were probably thinking of a folk movement in fundamentally the same way as Grundtvig did-in terms of our national life, our democratic form of government, a better citizenship. "If anyone had asked me for my definition of our democracy," she continued, "I think I should have said: a political system based on a recognition of the equal worth of individuals who rule through the voice of the majority, with protection for minorities." SugÃ‚Âgestive of the infinite variety of statements on our democracy and on democracy generally whichFall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIPS AND WORK have come in floods of publications of late, she cited and summarized a number of provocative interpretations from a symposium reprinted in pamphlet form from the journal of Adult EduÃ‚Âcation. Among these were the following: "One writer sees our democracy as an economic system called capitalism and a political government by pressure groups. Another says that the historical phases which made the character and form of our government have already passed away; many seem to want to preserve what are now empty forms. Why persist in identifying ourselves with an era which is past and a pattern which is outmoded? Still another says that, though there are obviously many points of view among us, what characterÃ‚Âizes us as Americans is that we feel `morally reÃ‚Âsponsible' for what we think is wrong, and feel compelled to `do something about it.' " By way of opening general discussion, Mrs. Campbell asked, "What can we do to promote the enlightenment, to arouse the energy, initiative and power which should characterize a true people's movement, and make for real democracy? What do you think of the statement of Georg Bidstrup made to me as we talked of this, that to him a folk movement and the way we go about getting it are the same thing?" In remarks which followed, Miss Helen DingÃ‚Âman, Executive Secretary of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, suggested that we are aiming at a movement which, being democratic in principle and method, must inevitably involve a rewarding participation of people generally, since democratic action not only has the cumulative energy and power of "collective will" but the immeasurably valuable cumulative effect of buildÃ‚Âing character, developing responsibility encouragÃ‚Âing initiative, sharpening skills. At this point someÃ‚Âone quoted a statement from this year's Knoxville Conference to illustrate the point: "Democracy is a form of government which, when it is through, leaves a better man." Regardless of how far short of this ideal we fall in any thoroughgoing national way, in our intimate community enterprises there is rich opportunity to utilize this improving power of democratic action, particularly in furthering a movement of common folk which can begin noÃ‚Âwhere better than among small groups. Georg Bidstrup, of the John C. Campbell Folk School, talking of a lack of thoroughgoing trust in Page 21 democratic principles, expressed his belief that there is a fundamental betrayal of democracy in our churches (especially, perhaps, our mountain churches), because there is fear and discourageÃ‚Âment of independent thought on the part of members. The same thing applies, in his opinion, to government-fear of independent thought on the part of citizens, a distrust of the common man's ability as a free agent to make wise choices. C. C. Haun, of Cumberland Homesteads and now serving the Adult Education Cooperative Project of the Conference, reiterated this thought in more than one discussion. He said that there is too strong a tendency in subsidized projects such as Cumberland Homesteads to lay on policy from without, rather than to trust and encourage choice and initiative by the people within, those most concerned for the project's success. Mr. Bidstrup suggested that, on the whole, people are willing enough to support changes for the better. Unfortunately, however, although they support action which will bring quick and large results, most people are extremely reluctant to settle down to the long-term steady effort necesÃ‚Âsary to make lasting changes of far-reaching value. There is both the need and the problem of enlisting support of long-view measures aiming far ahead and of steady, unhurried action. From the Journal o f Adult Education stateÃ‚Âments cited above someone read this pertinent question. "It is not clear that soul force, moral stamina, cultural continuity, will count more in the long run than political maneuvers, economic factors, or physical action?" And another sugÃ‚Âgested that continuity of purpose is as great a need and as profound a lack as any need and lack of the South, particularly the individualistic mountain South. Dr. George C. Bellingrath, of Rabun GapÃ‚ÂNacoochee School, Rabun Gap, Georgia, spoke of bases upon which a higher plane of life may be built by people in this lowest-income section of the nation. He said that he was strong for the "economic bait," that certain minimum advances in material well-being must be made before any person or group may begin to reach higher or even consider trying to do so. In his opinion, initial specific improvements in matters vital to the very maintenance of life-food, clothing, shelter-are the most effective agents in arousing a movement Page 22 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 for general improvement. Dr. and Mrs. Henry Harap, Peabody College, Nashville, Tennessee, stressed the same ideas with reference to enlisting genuine support of a consumer-cooperative's conÃ‚Âstituency. Of vital significance to such a coopÃ‚Âerative, they said, is the immensely strategic imÃ‚Âportance of supplying the best article for the price. Mrs. Campbell emphasized this in another way by saying that to center effort about an intellectual concept of improvement, or utopia, is to start with something altogether too remote from people's pressing needs and wants. In this matter of the large importance of small material beginnings, a discussion of study clubs was very suggestive. Study groups were considered most promising as a method of securing effort and progressive action by community and neighÃ‚Âborhood groups. As has been so effectively shown in Nova Scotia, study groups involve group parÃ‚Âticipation and lead to actions conceived and put into operation by the people themselves. (This is not to deny the importance of "leaders" in inspirÃ‚Âing groups to begin studying together for action.) This study-group type of social action was disÃ‚Âtinguished from action administered "from above" or by an "outsider." The "of-for-and-by-theÃ‚Âpeople" nature of study-group action seemed to fit particularly well the folk or people's movement under consideration. As chairman for this discussion, Eugene Smathers, of Big Lick, Tennessee, spoke of the group-evolved and group-operated enterprises in Big Lick in terms of their as-yet experimental nature. Dr. Harap, however, insisted that, as a method of starting things moving, the Big Lick study-group action had gone beyond the experiÃ‚Âmental state; that it should be regarded as soundly demonstrated community action through study groups. For the benefit of those unfamiliar with the Nova Scotia experience, Miss Dingman called atÃ‚Âtention to some of the literature about it, including Fowler's The Lord Helps Those and Coady's Masters Of Their Own Destiny. This basic prinÃ‚Âciple was emphasized: a group must start study along some line of clear need where successful action, in the sense of tangible results, has a more than good chance to follow. This helps them avoid the initial disillusionment of "biting off more than they can chew." Claude Purcell, Superintendent of Schools for Habersham County, Georgia, spoke of the power a group of small farmers can wield as a cooperative unit, and of their weakness as independents. "A one-horse farmer just cannot hope to do an inÃ‚Âtelligent job of marketing a vegetable crop by himÃ‚Âself." Mr. Purcell felt that through study groups such a farmer, together with others in a similar situation, could come to realize the insecurity of an isolationist position and learn how effectively they can "do something about it" together. A special contribution to the discussions was Mr. Purcell's description of the Habersham County Council, which started meeting very occasionally each year and now meets regularly each month, out of the sheer interest and value of the meetÃ‚Âings. This county council, he pointed out, brings together with representative public servants as the County Agent, Home Demonstration Agent, Superintendent of Schools, staff members of the FSA, the NYA, and the WPA, and others in both public and private work. It not only makes for a better understanding of problems and policies, and open opportunities for mutual help, but also has a not-to-be-minimized influence on the use of public funds. Needless to say, any venture that promotes such studied use of public funds is of inestimable importance in a democracy. As a method for promoting a folk movement, Mrs. Campbell dealt briefly with the folk school. She called attention to the tremendous force folk schools had exerted in the remaking of Denmark after the Napoleonic Wars had left the nation crushed politically and economically. Without the general enlightenment afforded the country's mass of agrarian folk by these folk schools, there could have been no folk movement in Denmark. She referred again to Grundtvig, the great naÃ‚Âtional figure of the period-to his faith in the people as they might be. "He believed they would work for a better life, if they could be stirred awake and made conscious of higher values. He had little faith, however, in the power of books to furnish the necessary stimuli. `The influence of personality,' said Grundtvig, `is more imÃ‚Âportant than an accumulation of facts as such.' A school for the people should do away with degrees, Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 23 credits, examinations, and even vocational eduÃ‚Âcation, and rely upon the power of the spoken or `living' word. While the Danish folk schools or `high schools for people' did not take quite the form Grundtvig had in mind, they were shaped fundamentally by his philosophy. Largely cultural, they had no such courses as practical farming, cooperation, forestry. They sought primarily to awaken, enliven, enlighten. The cooperative moveÃ‚Âment, like the swift growth of intelligent conservaÃ‚Âtion, came not out of school teaching but out of an awakened, enlivened, enlightened people facing their problem and using the help that was availÃ‚Âable to them. "Folk School in America does not necessarily mean such ventures as we have here at Brasstown -in farm, crafts, cooperatives, etc. We use the principles behind the Danish folk schools, but following the example seen in Finland and in the Danish Smallholder's Schools, we have adapted methods to our section, just as the same principles may be adapted differently to other sections. Less patient than the Danes, we have not dared to wait a generation or two for an enlightened people to solve their own problems. We have been American enough to try to hurry results-to start action, so that young people coming out from school, may find under way tangible, progressive enterprises to which they may link their awakened energies. Our hope is that a movement in the country will start growing where young people, aroused and reaching out, are near enough to touch shoulders and give strength to each other in a common venÃ‚Âture toward a richer life for all." Mrs. Campbell suggested that perhaps here as in Denmark, it is not those who are entirely down and out, but on the whole those who are ready, on their feet, who will be first infected by folkÃ‚Âschool aims and methods. And these could be best described not as leaders apart from the people, but as leaven or ferment among the people. "As they achieve, others will take courage and follow after, or as Jakob Lange, former head of the SmallÃ‚Âholder's School of Odense, Denmark, says, `Little Claus (of Hans Christian Andersen lore) awoke to ask himself why he should not go ahead and say "Whoah, all my horses" like Big Claus.' " In speaking of the growth of the movement in his homeland, Mr. Lange wrote: The truly great minds of the age clearÃ‚Âly perceived that spiritual activity in the fields of learning and amongst the "eduÃ‚Âcated classes" would not suffice . . . . In its happy meeting with awakening spirÃ‚Âitual cravings amongst the peasantry, this desire to elevate, regain and regenerÃ‚Âate, kindled a flame for enlightenment and true education which enlarged the horizon and broadened the mind of the foremost of the peasantry. In this way they were rendered fit to lead; and the whole emancipation-movement got a w'der scope, became a true movement of i the people, aiming at making the "comÃ‚Âmon man" feel that he too had a stake in his country, and helping to transform him into a living stone of our national house, thus effacing not only outward but inward class-distinctions., Howard Kester of Black Mountain, North Carolina, pleaded the case for an evolutionary folk movement as opposed to violent revolutionary political and economic action. He had come to feel, he said, through much personal groping and disillusionment, that the new life so badly needed is possible only through a general movement of the people. The reaching out of Christians in hopelessness and despair he regarded as a most hopeful and significant thing, since profound conÃ‚Âfusion and want must precede any genuine growth and advance toward solutions. To prevent serious social and economic collapse following the earth- wide war that seems inevitable, all possible re- I I sources must be speedily brought into action. Mr. Kester was concerned that some representative association or committee be formed, at the present meeting, to work our effective techniques for inÃ‚Âstigating a folk movement, to study out the most hopeful points of attack, and to secure funds to make tangible action possible. Here he mentioned several large funds, suggesting that they are beÃ‚Âcoming interested increasingly in education of the more common or general kind as distinguished from "higher" education. Dr. Frank Foster, President of Asheville ColÃ‚Âlege, agreed with the purposes suggested for such a committee. He warned, however, of dangers. In 1 Lange, Jakob, The Darrisla Peasant of Today, Denmark 19os. Page 24 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Pall, 1940 trying to crystalize and head up a venture of this sort by organizing it, we risk making it static. Instead of its becoming a movement to take part in, it may become a method to expound. In another session Dr. Henry Harap spoke of advances made by public schools and stressed the fact that the public school is the most representÃ‚Âative people's school and hence a very large factor in any consideration of a general people's moveÃ‚Âment. Among other things, he suggested that public schools have shown a trend away from grades and credits. In the discussion following, it became eident that the group present represented largely vi private philanthropic work, seeking new ways of serving in areas once backward but where the public schools have now come to take their proper place. There was general acknowledgment of the unique freedom of the private school to pioneer in ways not within the present scope of the public school. One session deliberated at length as to what exÃ‚Âtent an educational institution can identify itself with the community in which it is situated, or whether it must inevitably have a life apart, espeÃ‚Âcially if it aims at drastic changes in the community life. Morris Mitchell, of Alabama State Teachers College, expressed the ideal toward which we all strive, an ideal altogether too far from realization anywhere as yet. "Education must come to be the community as it thinks and acts." The supremely important work of the educator, he felt, is in the home and on the farm of the backward southern farmer. Others felt that the educator would have to demonstrate first, for example, on a dramatically different and compelling superior farm and home; that he would have to show the effectiveness of the wares he peddles, practicing what he preaches, so to speak, before he can hope to get a hearing or win over believers. The Brasstown school was described as striving to demonstrate somewhat in this fashion, not only incorporating beauty and joys without which rural life is barren. Evident here, as throughout the discussions, was the often reiterated fact that there are many approaches and many means: the need is to put all of them to work. Mrs. Bidstrup pointed out the place of recreation as vital to rounded country life. She felt that folk games, which by their very survival over centuries have demonstrated their value, have a real place in a folk movement. By way of illusÃ‚Âtrating their satisfying character, she outlined the contagious growth of this type of recreation among mountain schools and centers, culminating in the annual folk festival. In considering another force, the church, as an agency in a folk movement, the group agreed with Mr. Smathers that where there is a single comÃ‚Âmunity church there is opportunity for united action through it, whereas when there are two or more churches, they seldom unify and often divide a community; they may even become a primary obstacle to united action. And yet, from the fact that great folk movements have had strong reÃ‚Âligious motivation, it would seem that the church has a unique opportunity to make contribution. That there is vast power for good or evil in such motivation was seen in the fact that the very lifeÃ‚Âblood of Nazism is a fanatical religious faith, of a dangerously morbid sort to be sure, which none the less demonstrates its all-engrossing, all-unifying power. When the conference was called, no set objecÃ‚Âtives were held up as goals toward which the disÃ‚Âcussions should lead; but aside from the immense value of talking things out thoroughly in unhurried informal discussion, there were two major concrete outcomes: the programs of several schools repreÃ‚Âsented will be influenced materially by methods and matters discussed; and, the 1941 Conference of Southern Mountain Workers will have a special session to further consider a folk movement for the South (Mrs. Olive Campbell, Mr. Eugene Smathers, and Miss Mary Dupuy are the planning comÃ‚Âmittee). Fall, 1940 Pine Mountain Guidance Institute, held at Pine Mountain Settlement School, August 25-31, made some distinct and indelible impressions upon me, a newcomer to the field of work in the Southern Mountain area. My warmest approbation was aroused at the outset by the very apparent deÃ‚Âmocracy of the gathering, for it was no mere "teachers' institute," where weary teachers sit through dreary session upon session of theory and speech-making. Here was a coming together of business and professional men and women, leading citizens of Harlan County, representatives of many state and national agencies-sitting down at a common round-table with the educators of the county-earnest people all, fired by the deÃ‚Âsire to "increase our efficiency in helping Harlan County youth to find themselves:-by surveying their needs and all possible resources for meeting those needs; by coordinating these resources in a concerted effort to accomplish the above objecÃ‚Âtive." (Purpose of the Institute as stated in its handbook). Each day presented such a variety of activities, some of them scheduled simultaneously, that it was impossible for any one person to have obtained a complete digest of all that happened. Morning general sessions, at which James A. Cawood, SupÃ‚Âerintendent of Harlan County Schools, presided, were concerned consecutively with the themes: (1) Why education? the purpose of education; esÃ‚Âsential factors involved in this purpose; how g'dance functions in carrying out this purpose. ul 1 1 (2) Understanding the individual boy and girl as a basis for helping them; how to get acquainted with them; how to apply knowledge of them. (3) The county school program: does it check out on accepted Institute objectives? what shall it inÃ‚Âclude? how should it function? how can it be implemented to that end? (4) Character building as a school and community obligation. (5) Getting ready for guidance service: what sort of counselors are needed? Where shall they be trained-in teachÃ‚Âer training institutions, in institutes, on the job? How? Should every teacher be a vocational counÃ‚Âselor? How can vocational counselors be trained? In these sessions, able discussion leaders, drawing MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK PINE MOUNTAIN GUIDANCE INSTITUTE BY BIRDENA BISHOP upon the day-by-day experiences of teachers, sucÃ‚Âceeded in eliciting most valuable contributions from individuals who surprised even themselves in their active participation. The general morning assembly was followed by group discussions: the Elementary Teachers' WorkÃ‚Âshop, and the Occupational Adjustment Group. The Elementary Teachers' Workshop was a large and distinctive unit of the Institute representing a carefully planned and intensive course of instrucÃ‚Âtion dealing with specific problems and showing how guidance should function in meeting those problems. Through the cooperation of Harlan County Superintendent of Schools, two neighborÃ‚Âing one-room schools, Creech and Little Laurel, were set up for purposes of demonstration. Miss Ada E. Valentine, Mrs. Esther Davidson, Mrs. Helen H. Little, specialists working with teachers at one or the other of these points or on the Pine Mountain campus, were able to present a fairly consecutive program showing guidance operating on a progressive education base, in an area inÃ‚Âheriting many difficulties from nature. Their demonstrations will undoubtedly have values for teachers coping with these difficulties. The Occupational Adjustment Group, on sucÃ‚Âcessive mornings at Pine Mountain and at one afternoon and two evening meetings in Harlan, was concerned with: (1) Youth migration from Harlan County and the need for new local indusÃ‚Âtries; (2) The Harlan County Junior Counseling Service (one of the direct results of the 1939 Institute) and the Harlan County Occupational Survey (conducted during recent weeks by Dr. Raymond S. Ward); (3) Health for young people and for all; (4) Vocational education; (5) Personal qualities that count in business-those asked for by representatives of local business; such as, ability to get along with people, adaptability, courtesy, alertness on the job, neatness and cleanliness of person, education, right kind of associates, interest in work, honesty, sobriety; (6) Juvenile DelinÃ‚Âquency-aids to preventing it and sound ways of treating it; (7) Practical steps toward meeting the need for trained counselors. Throughout all of the discussions, the remark- Page 26 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 able fact of democracy at work pervaded and perÃ‚Âsisted. When teachers or others asked questions, there were those from diverse occupational fields who could furnish the answers, or if answers were not forthcoming, recommendations were made and machinery set in motion that should yield results in the near future. The Harlan County Planning Council will at once take active steps to further activities in the fields of health, recreation, preÃ‚Âvention of delinquency, probation, inventory of community resources with a view to building up new industries, checking of youth migration, and steering of youth into industries where they may be happily and gainfully employed. Indeed a county- wide system of vocational education and counseling seems assured. This is guidance, education in the broad; schools, teachers, homes, business, communiÃ‚Âty agencies, all working hand in hand for the upÃ‚Âbuilding of youth. It is impossible to make even slight mention of all the seventy-six leaders-local, county, state, and national-who contributed, but I must say a few words about the dozen or so who left the most definite impressions with me. Miss Gladys Jameson, of the Berea College Department of Music, whose "whole idea of singing is that everyÃ‚Âone can sing," welded the group into oneness when she so infectiously opened the sessions with son ;. Dr. Howard A. Dawson, Director of Rural Service of the National Education Association, could always "hit the nail on the head"; repeatedly he brought into harmony discussions that beforÃ‚Â° his entrance seemed at cross purposes. Dr. H. :. McClusky, Associate Director of Administration for the American Youth Commission, Dr. FrankÃ‚ÂC. Foster, President of Asheville College, and Dr. Otis C. Amis, Professor of Education, Western State Teacher's College, Kalamazoo, Michigan, were likewise notable for their pertinent observaÃ‚Âtions and philosophy. Dr. Raymond C. Ware, Supervisor of Junior Placement Service, Social Security Board, Washington, D.C., and H. FC. Hansbrough, Field Supervisor, Kentucky State Employment Service, presented facts anent jobs and employment, coordination of supply and deÃ‚Âmand in labor, occupational library service, et cetera. Francis A. Shouse, Personnel man for NYA in the Hazard office, was a storehouse of infor- mation regarding activities and services of NYr1 in Kentucky. Mr. Austin Welch, Supervisor of WPA Recreation for Kentucky, convincingly outÃ‚Âlined the need for, and results of, studied recreaÃ‚Âtional programs. "Captivate and hold the interest of the child," he insisted. Miss Marion Humble, Educational Publicity, Public Affairs Committee, New York City, visualized the Institute roundÃ‚Âtable as the centre of an ever-widening circle, whose interpretations and influence are in a fair way of becoming national in scope. Mr. Glyn Morris, Director of Pine Mountain Settlement School, whose presence was felt everywhere, every minute, was an indefatigable shaping, unifying force, always driving toward and arriving at, outÃ‚Âlined objectives. Dr. Latham Hatcher, President of the Alliance for the Guidance of Rural Youth, and technical director of the Institute, was the pervading spirit attendant upon all groups. Hers is the quiet genius for fostering a movement which aims at reorganization of traditional educational systems, attuning them to the needs of youth, in a very real present-day world. I must not neglect to say a word about the ten young people, from Pine Mountain and other Harlan County high schools, who set up their own round-table and upon the final night in the inÃ‚Âstitute joined with adults in the discussions. Their awareness of difficulties facing them as soon as they are released from school is almost tragic; their plea for help, in the way of more practical pre,)Ã‚Âaration for life, must bring results. A permanent youth conference will be given a larger place in future institutes. I feel moved, without having been officially delegated, to voice for the entire 329 participants in the Institute a genuine appreciation for things other than ideas presented and training made availÃ‚Âable: for the art exhibition, featuring the drawings, prints and paintings of John A. Spillman III; for the good food, prepared and served with such facility by Pine Mountain students; for the natural beauty of the Pine Mountain campus and country- side; for the graciousness of Mrs. Glyn Morris, whose quiet efficiency as hostess to the assembly, had much to do with making August 25-31 a very pleasurable, as well as profitable, week. Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 27 WHAT THEY ARE Meeting of Associated Study Clubs The first Associated Study Clubs' meeting was held in the community church at Pleasant Hill, Tennessee, on October 11. Study Club members from six Cumberland Plateau neighborhoods took part in the discussions, singing, study and play. The exchange of Study Club experience was of such practical value and the fellowship so fine that another Associated Study Clubs' meeting has been set for Allardt "in the spring, just before the planting season." DOING Study Club Services The Adult Education Cooperative Project is now collecting a large number of pamphlets and materials on subjects of interest to Study Club members. Requests include: farm machinery, fer- tilizer, forests, seed saving, berries potatoes oul- I I I Zn I ) p try, pasture, burning lime, dipping vat, milk products, wood carving, crafts, health service, folk games, music, schools, movements, and a variety of cooperatives. Much of the material is provided free of charge or loaned through the library service. Groups of about twenty-five members from the Communities served: Study Club groups, eduÃ‚Â different clubs discussed the "Results of Farm cational activities, and related cooperative associaÃ‚Â Machinery Studies;" "Credit Union Problems;" dons are now in action, or being considered, in "The Study Club Way to Consumers' Coopera- Allardt, Alpine, Wilder, Big Lick, Double Springs, tives;" "Health Services;" and "Folk Games Study Cumberland Homesteads, Baker's Crossroads, Clubs." There were no speeches but the discussion Spencer, Ravenscroft, Pleasant Hill, Brasstown, groups were led by Engene Smathers, W. O. Warne, Curtis, and other neighborhoods in TenÃ‚Â Suiter, Alva W. Taylor, E. E. White and Vernon nESSee, North Carolina and Kentucky. Many Robipeople have heard or read of the Study Club method Study Club subjects and materials. William G. and are anxious to draw together their neighbors Klein and Aaron Parsons conducted the folk games for a trial of this democratic procedure in studying and music. There was a picnic dinner, and supper and solving their local problems. was served in the Academy dining room. Robinson Harvest Festival Ellsworth Smith gave the opening devotional message and in the evening challenged the Study Club pioneers with "Democratic Christian CivilÃ‚Â ization." Beginnings of a Christian civilization may be found in isolated neighborhoods but comÃ‚Â petitive greed, rabid nationalism and war are eviÃ‚Â dences of barbaric instincts and retarded evoluÃ‚Â tion. The common people of Russia, Italy and Germany will discover that they were caught by insincere idealists and are now being sold by these dominant leaders. But in time, out of suffering the brotherhood of the common people of the world will come to be recognized. In the message Ellsworth Smith gave his strong conviction that, "We are going to arrive at a democratic Christian civilization." He concluded with the story of "Bountiful," an American Christian community which is being built on the principle of "from each according to his ability, to each according to his need." The annual Robinson Harvest Festival is one of the outstanding social and agricultural events of rural Kentucky. It is sponsored by the E. O. RobÃ‚Âinson Mountain Foundation and the University of Kentucky. This year the Festival was held on September 26-27 and as usual it took place at the Robinson Substation, Quicksand, Kentucky. Each year an amazing display of agricultural products and handicrafts fills the spacious Cooper Hall and is inspected by large crowds who come in a holiday mood. Distinguished visitors from LexÃ‚Âington and other urban centers also visit the FesÃ‚Âtival. The year's work in the Four-H Clubs of eastern Kentucky comes to a grand climax on the second day at Quicksand. Mr. Conrad Feltner, Miss Mary Louise Moore, and the Regional Four-H Director Mr. James Feltner, are joined by many county and home demonstration agents in leadership of the ocÃ‚Âcasion. Mr. Carl W. Jones, State Leader of the Page 28 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 Utopia Clubs, directs an exciting Horseshoe Pitching Contest. At the Robinson Harvest Festival this year two programs of folk dances were presented by nearly a hundred young people from six counties. This feature of the Festival consisted of singing games and folk dances enjoyed by all the young folks together on the lawn south of Cooper Hall, and of special numbers performed by various groups on the wooden platform erected under the direction of Mr. Roger Jones, Superintendent of the ExÃ‚Âperiment Station. The events of Thursday afternoon, September 26th, which saw one of the folk dance performÃ‚Âances, were opened by a short address of welcome from Dean Thomas Cooper, now acting President of the University of Kentucky. The folk dances were followed by the Ballad Singing Contest, diÃ‚Ârected by Miss Lula Hale of Homeplace; the Plain Song Chanters of Floyd County sang; and Mr. John Jacob Niles, who judged the ballad singing, contributed interesting selections of traditional music. The program of folk dancing at the Robinson Harvest Festival was started in 1939. It is largely the outcome of recreational field work conducted by the Agricultural Extension Service, University of Kentucky, which employs Frank H. Smith as its field worker in eastern Kentucky. A fine body of local recreational leaders is coming into existence in the public and private schools, churches, and community centers of the area. The Conference of Southern Mountain Workers and Berea College, with which Mr. Smith is also associated, are likeÃ‚Âwise actively interested in the development of recÃ‚Âreation in Kentucky and the various other states of the Southern Highlands. The centers responsible for the attractive Folk Dance Program were as follows: Alvan Drew School, Breathitt County High School, Glen Eden High School, Hazel Green Academy, Highland Institution, Hindman Settlement School, HomeÃ‚Â place, Lees Junior College, and Stuart Robinson School. -F. H. S. Southern Highland Handicraft Guild The Southern Highland Handicraft Guild comÃ‚Âbined business and pleasure in holding their fall meeting, October 8-9, at the Cherokee Indian School, Cherokee, North Carolina, during the Cher- okee Indian Fair. Discussions regarding exhibits, the improvement of crafts, the recognition of superior workmanship, were followed by trips of inspection of the handicraft and agricultural displays of the fair, by attending the Indian games and dances, and otherwise enjoying the generous hospitality of the school. The Guild members were pleased to learn that an exhibit of craft productions collected by Mr. Allen Eaton from the craft exhibitions of the New York World's Fair are now being shown at Pi Beta Phi Settlement School, Gatlinburg, TennesÃ‚Âsee. It is hoped that the exhibit will remain in the Southern Highlands for several weeks being routed among the centers of the Guild. High point of the meeting was the address, "Made by Hand," given by Miss Mary Ela, head of the Fine Arts Department of Berea College. "Made by Hand" in its entirety is printed in this issue. A Summer Folk Dance Camp The annual Folk Dance Camp of the Country Dance Society was held at Long Pond near PlyÃ‚Âmouth, Massachusetts, August 10-29. The Society has steadily widened the scope of its dance reperÃ‚Âtoire during the past few years. American dances now constitute a vital and important feature in the life of the Society. This employment of both American and English country dances is producing most desirable results. The American dances are vigorous and fresh, coming as they do directly from the life of American communities. The EngÃ‚Âlish dances, comprising both the contemporary folk traditions and the Playford collections, are amazingly rich, varied, and beautiful. A group of eight persons connected with our recreation movement represented the Southern Highlands. A new feature of the camp program was a demonstration of mountain singing games by the Southern group and the teaching of the mountain square dance figures and singing games by Frank H. Smith and Mrs. Marion Skean. Cecil J. Sharp, the greatest personality in the folk song and dance revival in the English-speakÃ‚Âing world, founded what is now the Country Dance Society during the World War a generation ago. The present conflict in Europe-the prevailÃ‚Âing unrest in the entire world-increases the sigÃ‚Ânificance of dance and song. We in the Southern Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 29 recreation movement should carry on our tasks with increased devotion and enthusiasm in these days. It was an inspiration to learn at Long Pond that in spite of the war the English Folk Dance and Song Society was holding a summer school during AugÃ‚Â ust at Stratford-on-Avon, in the heart of ShakesÃ‚Â peare's England. -F. H. S. Staff Changes CONFERENCE NOTES Nineteen hundred and forty has seen some changes on the staff of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers. In April Miss Hoffsommer left to seek a position which would give her more experience in her chosen field of writing and pubÃ‚Âlishing. Her friends will be glad to know that she is now with the Associated Boards for Christian ColÃ‚Âleges in China, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York, and that she says of her job "it demands a lot of writÃ‚Âing. Her successor, Miss Omega Gentry, started her work in April. She came to the Conference from the Louisville office of the WPA State-wide RecÃ‚Âreation Project in Kentucky. Previous to that she worked for the Cooperative Recreation Service in Delaware, Ohio. She is a graduate of Berea College. Miss Barnes, who for the past two years, has been assisting in the administrative work of the Conference office during Miss Dingman's illness, left in July. She is spending this year at her home, 6327 Florence Boulevard, Omaha, Nebraska. Miss Adair Black, who began her work with the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers on SepÃ‚Âtember 16th has been recently engaged with the InÃ‚Âternational Migration Service. This international case working agency has been cooperating with the United States Committee for the Care of European Children of which Mr. Marshall Field is ChairÃ‚Âman. Miss Black has had secretarial experience with judge John Bassett Moore, an authority on international law and formerly a member of the Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague, and with Dr. William Pierson Merrill, who, until his retirement, was minister of the Brick PresbyÃ‚Âterian Church in New York City. Miss Black's home is in Rutherford, New Jersey. In June, John Morgan finished two years as itinerant recreational leader. We all rejoice with him in his opportunity of studying at Pendle Hill, a Quaker center for graduate study, at WallingÃ‚Âford, Pennsylvania, and are grateful to him for the fine contributions he has made to various cenÃ‚Âters in the mountains. We are fortunate in securing as his successor, Miss Marie Marvel, who has been Recreation LeadÃ‚Âer at Hindman Settlement School for four years. From that center she has done playground work with forty-seven rural schools in Knott County. Previous to coming to the Southern Mountains Miss Marvel has had wide experience as director of religious education in various parishes of the Board of Home Missions and Church Extension of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Ellsworth Smith, director of the Adult EducaÃ‚Âtion Cooperative Project, resigned July first to beÃ‚Âcome pastor of the Third Presbyterian Church, Chattanooga, Tennessee. As the pioneer worker of the Conference in this field we owe much to Mr. Smith for the real foundation of interest and faith in the study club technique which he has laid, particularly in the communities of the Upper CumÃ‚Âberland Plateau. He is followed by C. C. Haun, who knows through firsthand experience the social and ecoÃ‚Ânomic problems which the farmers in that area are facing. Mr. Haun has lived at the CumberÃ‚Âland Homestead for several years. He has been the director of the Rural Life Department at VanderÃ‚Âbilt University and pastor of several rural churches with institution programs. Committees at Work The Education Commission of the Conference has been active again. A meeting was held at Asheville College, Asheville, North Carolina, June 8-9. It was decided to rechristen the old ComÃ‚Âmittee on Aims and Objectives as the Committee of Surveys and Appraisals and to ask this group to report at the fall meeting of the Commission to be held at Lincoln Memorial University, HarroÃ‚Âgate, Tennessee, October 19-21. The importance of the work of this group is increased by the growÃ‚Âing awareness of various private schools that changed conditions call for reappraisal of their objectives and a new educational program to meet the needs of today's youth. The Health Committee is making plans for a state conference on health in North Carolina. Page 3 0 MouNrnoN Lm]. AND Wont Hall, 1940 Three preliminary gatherings have been held at Asheville, the first in June and the others in August and October. An executive committee was apÃ‚Âpointed and is actively at work compiling results of health studies, consulting various mountain centers as to the particular problems they are meet- ing and interesting doctors and agencies in the proÃ‚Âgram. Their hope is to hold other state meetings later. The newly formed Rural Church Commission is holding its first meeting at the Hotel Farragut, Knoxville, Tennessee, on November 4, 1940. THE REVIEWING THEORY AND PRACTICE OF SOCAL CASE WORK by Gordon Hamilton. New York, ColumÃ‚Âbia University Press, 1940. 388 pp. $3. New York School of Social Work Publications. It is not my purpose to review fully Theory and Practice o f Social Case Work as to its value for professional social workers. I shall leave that task to those much better qualified in that most important field. I do wish, however, to bring it to the attention of the readers of Mountain Life and Work, many of whom are engaged in educational, social and religious work in the Southern MounÃ‚Âtains and are dealing constantly with persons in problem situations. This restatement of the social case work idea will make a real contribution to the understanding of the dignity of personality and of the delicate science of human relationships. In these chaotic days when earnest people are searching for the real meaning of democracy, Miss Hamilton's interpretation of social work is challenging. Such sentences as the following will arrest the thought of many who are in the position of trying to help people: The true meaning of charity as "love" has often been obscured by practices which have associated these attitudes with the giver rather than the recipient, with the owning rather than the laboring classes. The essence of charity is reciÃ‚Âprocity and must imply that every indiÃ‚Âvidual will have his assets realized and capitalized in a common purpose. So long as one thinks of welfare as the facile benevolence of friends and passersby, so long as it is a tool of authorÃ‚Âitarian government, whether industrial or political, it will not stir much opposi- STAND tion, but in so far as it is the expression of free men creating the conditions of their well-being, its slow progress will be atÃ‚Âtended by plenty of dust and heat. Such nuggets of stimulating thought are found throughout the book and the reader who takes time to study the contents will be richly rewarded. The development of the whole case work process and its relation to other fields of social work, the case histories presented, the chapter dealing with the contribution which psychiatry is making toward understanding "both the individual and his culture" are all helpful and enlightening. The whole book drives home the fact that to work with people is a real art and may have far reachÃ‚Âing consequences, that "charity is essentially radiÃ‚Âcal in its objectives. For the moment love of our fellows gets beyond lip service and into social structures and methods it ceases to be palliative." -H. H. D. A B C OF COOPERATIVES by Gerald RichardÃ‚Âson, New York, Longmans, Green and Company, 1940. 264 pp. Cooperative edition $1 from the CoÃ‚Âoperative League of the U.S.A. Study Club technique takes another step forÃ‚Âward in the new A B C of Cooperatives by Gerald Richardson. Out of his practical experiences in Nova Scotia and his successful leadership of the study for action movement in Newfoundland he has prepared this handbook for local leaders. "Cooperation is the simplest thing in the world to understand . . . . p together at their oars, but they did not cooperate . . . . A cooperative society is a voluntary union of persons, on a democratic basis, to supply its members with goods and services." says Mr. RichÃ‚Âardson. Ancient galley-slaves idled Before going into details he urgently recommends four logical steps in starting a cooperative neighÃ‚Âborhood: "First, a study club; second, a credit union; third, a buying club; fourth, a cooperative store and cooperative producing enterprises." The success of the Rochdale pioneers is sketched by Mr. Richardson from the viewpoint of one who is searching only for practical details which will be of value in building a modern cooperative store. From the same viewpoint and in similar brevity the development of cooperative movements and institutions are traced in Great Britain, ScandiÃ‚Ânavia, the United States, Nova Scotia and NewÃ‚Âfoundland. "Principles are not something to learn; they are things which must by put into operation." observes Mr. Richardson, and in the fashion of a field diÃ‚Ârector of operations he instructs us in lending ourÃ‚Âselves money, organizing consumers, owning our own store and organizing production. Model by-laws for a number of these institutions are given in the appendix. Questions on each chapter are also given for the use of study clubs. In the concluding chapter Mr. Richardson calls our attention to the fact that: "On any business day Americans will buy more than a million dolÃ‚Âlars worth of goods in the cooperative way. Milk, eggs, clothing, electric heaters, coal, gasoline and oil will be sold by cooperative enterprises owned and controlled by cooperative societies . . . . This whole vast process from producer to consumer gives a glimpse of what might well be called the cooperative evolution. It is a process which lowers costs and increases buying power and yet at the same time gives the farmers and workers better prices and better wages . . . . Secretary of AgriculÃ‚Âture, Henry A. Wallace, has called it `the dominant economic idea of the future.' Already more than seventy million families in forty countries do at least part of their buying in the cooperative way. Today it is growing so fast in the United States that nobody knows precisely how big the move- ment is." -C. C. Haun MOUNTAIN LIFE, AND WORK TOIL AND HUNGER by Don West. San Benito, Texas, Hagglund Press, 1940. 90 pp. 50c With the publication of this small volume, Don West definitely establishes himself among the small, but select circle of southern poets, and judged by the quality of the verses in the volume, he is des- tined to win a high place among southern songsters. Mr. West is a young Georgian minister who has wandered about the South in a migratory fashion learning much about conditions and people, and his poetry reveals an understanding of these people and insight into their lives that has hardly been equaled. He writes of mountaineer and valleyÃ‚Âdweller, of Georgia plow-man and Carolina millÃ‚Âworker, with honesty, sympathy and clarity exÃ‚Âpressed in lines that have the lyric, singing quality that only the true poet can attain. "Ballard SingÃ‚Âer," one of the best pieces in this first volume will give an indication of Mr. West's poetic mood and serve to show his mastery of poetic simplicity, structure and lyricism. Ballad Singer He sang in quiet places Along his mountain ways Where wringled human faces Showed tracks of weary days. He sang his songs of living, Of corn in rocky soil And men and women giving Their lives to honest toil. He never heard the praises Of fame and loud acclaim Which oft the headline raises Around a polished name. But he saw furrowed faces And gripped the calloused hand Of men in quiet places Where lonely cabins stand. Jesse Stuart writes, "Not even James Whitcomb Riley has written poetry nearer the soil than has this young poet, Don West . . . . Don has lived the things he writes. They are a part of him. He knows his material. Fed men of his age have had the varied experience of Dan West . . . . Reading any of the fifty-six poems that make up the book, the reader cannot help but agree that Mr. Stuart speaks words of truth in his summation of the poet and his work. We shall wait anxiously for more volumes from the heart and pen of this young man. -Allen McElfresh Page 32 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Fall, 1940 THE SINGIN' GATHERIN' by Jean Thomas and Joseph A. Leeder. Chicago, Silver Burden Company, 1939. 113 pp. $1.50. It was a little more than thirty years ago that the first collection of Appalachian ballads with tunes, was published. Now there are probably more than fifty such collections. Many of the songs so recorded are variants of the same romantic tale (Cecil Sharp found at least 30 variants of "Barbara Allen" in one county in Kentucky), but all are interesting and significant. For several years Miss Thomas has been buildÃ‚Âing a picturesque revival of pioneer life, a Festival of songs, fiddle tunes and folk-lore. (The Festival is held the second Sunday of June of each year eighteen miles south of Ashland, Boyd County, Kentucky.) Her latest book, The Singin' Gatherin,' is a printed version of part of that Festival. There are beautiful illustrations, verbal and pictorial, of life as it was lived in days that are gone. And there are thirty-two old songs and five old fiddle tunes with their original modal melody lines harmonized by a simple modern accompaniment. These songs, tunes and dances are welded into a Folk Play of nineteen episodes by a Narrator (Miss Thomas is the original Narrator) who explains the historical significance of everything that needs explaining. It is a book to be recommended to all "strangers" who want to know the romance of the mountains. -Gladys V. Jameson INSTITUTIONAL EQUIPMENT FOR SALE The Annville Institute offers the following maÃ‚Âterial, all in good working order. Prices at Ann- v'Ile, Kentucky. I D.C. Engine-Generator set, direct connected, 25 K.W. 250 volts. This set is in good running condi- t1 ill include steam trap and valves, lubrica- on; wl 1 tor, and switchboard. Price, $200.00. D.C. Westinghouse, 16 K.W. 115 Volt GenÃ‚Âerator. Price $50.00. G. E. Motor, 5 K.W. 115 Volt. Price $20.00. Century Motor, 3 H.P. comp. wound, 115 Volt, 1150 rpm (Used 9 months on ice compressor, cost new $160.00) $25.00. Motor, D.C. 115 Volt, 1 H.P. $10.00. Several small D.C. Motors, all in good condition, at practically junk prices. Sectional Steam Heating Boiler, radiator capacity 1900, U. S. Capitol Boiler, complete with fittings, grates, etc. $100.00. Sectional Steam Heating Boiler, radiator caÃ‚Âpacity 1400, U. S. Capitol Boiler. $75.00. About 150 single steel adjustable grade school seats, also high school single seats. These seats are all in good serviceable condition. Revarnished would be as good as new. $1.50 each. Will reÃ‚Âvarnish each for 50c. Balancing set, 71/2 K.W. 115 Volt, consisting of two 71/2 K.W. Motors, Allis-Chalmers. D.C. CurÃ‚Ârent. $50.00. Two 4-foot ceiling fans. Price each-$5.00. Address: W. A. Worthington, Superintendent, Annville, Ky. Fall, 1940 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 33 JOIN THE Raymond Gram Swing says in an article "The Challenge of Crisis" in the October Survey Graphic: "We have a task to strengthen our own democracy, to make it vigorous and more serviceÃ‚Âable to more people. We have a task in organizÃ‚Âing thought and action toward human beings, our own, and those in any country where they are being degraded and endangered. The opportuniÃ‚Âties in both fields are boundless. And we should feel the spur in the knowledge that insofar as we fail in using the opportunities, we fail to conÃ‚Âtribute to the civilization which we pray shall be strengthened and perpetuated." These words have vital meaning in these perÃ‚Âplexing days when the world seems to have gone mad. Destruction of so much that is fine brings such discouragement that it is not easy to see the constructive task which is close at hand and within one's power to do. Mountain institutions and agencies are faced CONFERNCE with grave problems and these problems cannot be solved by the individual worker. Collectively they "have a task in organizing thought and action toward human beings." Opportunity is offered through membership in the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers for those who wish to join a group that is studying and working coÃ‚Âoperatively toward the solution of such questions as how to make their school programs more efÃ‚Âfective in educating youth, how to win the battle against ill health where there is great lack of mediÃ‚Âcal service, how to help open up ways and means where families with few resources can have a more adequate living, and how religion can be the dynamic which will make all these processes vitalÃ‚Âly worth while. As you read reports of important meetings which have been held and announcements of those to come will you not feel a personal responsibility to become an active member of a cooperative felÃ‚Âlowship? You need it and it needs you. OUR CONTRIBUTORS MARY EtA is head of the Fine Arts Department of Berea College. NELLIE I. CRASS is on the library staff of Berea College Library. ARTHUR M. BANNERMAN, Principal of Asheville Farm School, has recently finished a thesis and kindly shares with readers of Mountain Life and Work some of his hard-earned wisdom. LEON WILSON IS On the Staff of the Highlander Folk School, Monteagle, Tennessee. HARRY CARP has joined the staff at John C. Campbell Folk School after a long experience in Japan. BIRDENA BISHOP, a graduate of Berea College, is teachÃ‚Âing sociology at Pine Mountain Settlement School and is directing a group of students in extension work. C. C. HAUN is now director of the Adult Education CoÃ‚Âoperative Project of the Conference of Southern Mountain Workers. ALLEN MCELFRESH, of Lexington, Kentucky, was at one time active in organizational campaigns among the unemployed. He has had several short stories published. GLADYS V. JAMESON, an enthusiastic student of folk music, is a member of the Music Department of Berea College.