Father of Black History Month Carter Woodson a decolonial teacher for Filipinos too
By Marivir Montebon
New York – Little is known about the fact that the father of the Black History Month, Carter G. Woodson, was a "colonial teacher" in the Philippines to inculcate American values to Filipinos as a new colony in the 1900s.
But Woodson veered immediately away from the indoctrination process of Filipinos, noted Filipino American cultural historian Dr. Mark Redondo Villegas. Woodson was coy about it and preferred for a more culturally nuanced education like appreciating Jose Rizal as a freedom fighter for Filipinos, according to the Villegas research study.
Carter Godwin Woodson, father of Black History Month (Photo from SCURLOCK STUDIO RECORDS, CA. 1905-1994, ARCHIVES CENTER, NATIONAL MUSEUM OF AMERICAN HISTORY)
Woodson was born in Virginia in 1875 to parents who were illiterate and previous slaves. He finished high school when he was 20 years old and stood to be the only Black person to receive a Ph.D. in history from Harvard University.
Woodson launched Negro History Week in February 1926, which expanded to the current monthlong celebration in 1976. He dedicated his life to elevate the history and voices of everyday Black people asserting that “Real education means to inspire people to live more abundantly.”
In his youth, Woodson already had in him the fervor of decolonialization of people of color even in his mission to the Philippines in 1903, in reference to the research work of Villegas.
Villegas is an assistant professor at Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, PA and has been propelling students and colleagues to explore issues of race and identity.
Based in the department of American Studies, he also collaborates across disciplines with Latin American Studies, History, Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies and Africana Studies.
Published in the Lancaster Online, Villegas wrote about Woodson:
“Little is known about Woodson’s early career from 1903 to 1907 in the newly annexed U.S. colony that was still reeling from the Philippine-American War, which began in 1899.
Despite its engagement in a bloody military campaign that lasted until around 1913, the United States wanted to distinguish itself from the brutality of European imperial powers by employing public education as a primary tool of colonial control. U.S. President William McKinley labeled this strategy “benevolent assimilation.”
Legions of mostly white teachers traveled to the archipelago tasked with indoctrinating Filipinos with American values. Woodson was one of a handful of African American educators who ventured to the colony to “uplift” Filipinos.
His time in the Philippines is usually mentioned in a sentence — maybe two — on biographical websites and articles, and not given much attention in his biographies.
Even in his writings, Woodson is coy about such a pivotal moment in his life. For example, in his most well-known book, “The Mis-Education of the Negro” (1933), he lauds a more aligned method of educating Filipinos, such as teaching Filipino children about the bravery of Philippine hero José Rizal rather than reciting rote lessons about the virtues of George Washington.
He praises educators who “got rid of most books based on the life of American people and worked out an entirely new series dealing with the life of Filipinos.”
In this anecdote, Woodson bizarrely detaches himself from his role as a young colonial educator; instead, he narrates the account of an anonymous “insurance man” who traveled to the islands on business, stumbled into teaching and became rather good at it. His refusal to place himself in the islands is curious because Woodson quickly climbed the ranks: He was promoted to supervisor of schools in Pangasinan province and was charged with teacher training.
Despite its terse references, his life in the Philippines seems significant: He extended his stay after the conclusion of his original contract and, after returning home in 1907, arranged twice to resume his career in the islands (he canceled those plans because of health problems and other teaching opportunities).
In the Philippines, Woodson navigated a distant territory that had been previously dominated by Spain for more than three centuries and was being subdued by the United States in a conquest dubbed in a poem by British writer Rudyard Kipling as the “White Man’s Burden.”
Woodson’s unique insights as a Black educator helped craft a way of teaching, he deemed more effective than the educational dogma of his colleagues.
We may sketch the underpinnings of Woodson’s lifelong commitment to elevating Black history in his tale of the “insurance man” who educated Filipinos about their own history; but even without his tale, we can see Woodson’s early recognition of the harm of “mis-education” with his experimentation in “real education” designed to uplift a supposedly benighted race.”
Prof. Mark Redondo Villegas (Photo from Mark Redondo Villegas, Ph.D. website)
As a cultural scholar and researcher, Villegas teaches a variety of courses including “Hip Hop: The Global Politics of Culture”, “The Everyday Politics of Race: Food, Fashion, and Futurism”, “Introduction to Asian American Studies: War, Empire and Migration”, and “Gender and Race in Ethnic Studies Film.”
“I see my role in academia as jump-starting a conversation rather than the end-point of learning about refugees or learning about farm workers,” he was quoted as saying in an education media outlet diverseeducation.com.#
