W. E. B. Du Bois and his Letter to Otterbein, 1920
I spend much of my working time grubbing through old letters. It’s probably the fantasy of the treasure hunter; for every thousand letters from President Walter Clippinger asking for money, there must be a forgotten banknote worth thousands, or a letter from a famous person, or at least a treasure map or two. Here is an example of how something that looks exciting turns out to be less (but not entirely) so.
May of 1920 was a busy time. Otterbein College had a record year for attendance, as returning war veterans picked up where they left off. Graduation was approaching, and the president was kept busy with fine tuning and adjustments. But Clippinger was nothing if not a methodical man, and likely gave the short note his full attention. The New York postmark was nothing unusual, but the name of the sender was familiar: W. E. B. DeBois.
W. E. B. DuBois was arguably the most famous African-American of his day. Born in 1868, he had an early tie to Ohio by attending Wilberforce University for two years. DuBois was a sociologist, historian, and scholar. A cofounder of the NAACP, he was an activist, journalist, and freedom fighter. During his long lifetime, he worked for black rights and Pan Africanism, earning the enmity of J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI. He died in Ghana in West Africa in 1963,[1]
One of DuBois's many projects was a magazine published by the NAACP called “The Crisis.” Edited by DuBois, the magazine was a huge success for its era and subject, reaching 100,000 subscribers by 1920. For example, his editorials against lynching garnered attention. “The Crisis” and DuBois also stood for women’s rights, attracting a following.[2]
So, as you can imagine, I was initially quite excited to find a letter from DuBois in the Otterbein’s presidential papers. Then my bubble burst. I quickly realized that the letter was a “form letter,” signed with a rubber stamp. The text of the letter was nothing much, either. It was merely a query regarding how many African-American graduates the college had in 1920. Although the letterhead clearly stated “The Crisis” as the source of the query, the letter itself probably went out to several thousand colleges and universities.[3]
Perhaps more interesting for those interested in Westerville history was President Clippinger’s response. He answered the query truthfully by stating that Otterbein had no black graduates in 1920, but adding that there were “one or two in the music department” who were not expected to take “advanced work.” More research might identify these students, but their names are not immediately available.
We have no way of knowing whether W. E. B. DuBois ever personally gave his attention to Otterbein, or how he felt about the response from Clippinger. He knew, I’m sure, that the struggle would, and does, continue.
