If we have the courage and tenacity of our forebears, who stood firmly like a rock against the lash of slavery, we shall find a way to do for our day what they did for theirs.
Mary Mcleod BethuneRead
The true worth of a race must be measured by the character of its womanhood.
Interpretation
The value of a society is reflected in how it treats and values women.
Mary Mcleod Bethune's quote emphasizes that the true measure of a community or society lies in the dignity and character of its women. This suggests that the strength and values of a culture are revealed in the attitudes toward and treatment of women, highlighting the need for respect, empowerment, and equality as indicators of overall societal worth.
In practice
In a women's empowerment seminar, this quote can be used to inspire discussion about gender equality.
If we have the courage and tenacity of our forebears, who stood firmly like a rock against the lash of slavery, we shall find a way to do for our day what they did for theirs.
You white folks have long been eating the white meat of the chicken. We Negroes are now ready for some of the white meat instead of the dark meat.
Enter to learn; depart to serve.
We live in a world which respects power above all things. Power, intelligently directed, can lead to more freedom. Unwisely directed, it can be a dreadful, destructive force.
Forgiving is not about forgetting, it's letting go of the hurt
What does the Negro want? His answer is very simple. He wants only what all other Americans want. He wants opportunity to make real what the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution and the Bill of Rights say, what the Four Freedoms establish. While he knows these ideals are open to no man completely, he wants only his equal chance to obtain them.
The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do.
I had inadvertently walked through a door that I shouldn’t have gone through and couldn’t get back to the place I hadn’t meant to leave.
She had what it took: great hair, a profound understanding of strategic lip gloss, the intelligence to understand the world and a tiny secret interior deadness which meant she didn’t care.
How one walks through the world, the endless small adjustments of balance, is affected by the shifting weights of beautiful things.
What kind of times are they, when A talk about trees is almost a crime Because it implies silence about so many horrors?
Capital is dead labor, which, vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labor, and lives the more, the more labor it sucks.
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