Keynote Address by Dr. Camille Cosby

Thank you, Charles Dutton, for those most kind words.

And I thank our audience for their attendance today at this celebration of the 175 th anniversary of the founding of the Oblate Sisters of Providence. It is indeed a grand day and your presence during a usual vacation period gives special tribute to a noble effort of noble pioneers. That effort constituted the founding and continuation of an institution of black women older than any other in this land. I dare say, it is the oldest of any black grouping on this soil and barely a half century younger than the United States itself.

Every adult here knows how routine it is (for speakers) to say how glad they are to stand before and to address that particular audience. But my gladness is based on special and deep and personal reasons. When I read the letter of invitation from Sister Mary Alice Chineworth, "no" was never a possibility. It was just a matter, for me, of translating the "yes" in my heart to showing up on the date indicated.

The memories of my six years at St. Cyprian's had planted the seed of "yes."

I recall the 8 th graders at St. Cyprian's were required to sing at funeral services held at the church during the week. Having never attended any funeral before, I remember the sense of peace and the spiritual beauty of flowers and the music.

And to shift to the more pressing concerns of a budding adolescent, I remember Phillips Wilkes, for whom I carried a silent-and not-so-silent crush.  I of course, hoped it was returned. But let us say, watching him from afar probably prepared me for the real thing.

And because my parents' hard daily work had the priority of the best education for their children.in the context of what was then available for African American children, my brother, too, who's three years younger than me, knew for years the discipline, the security, the warmth, the instruction, the support, the example of the sisters, the belief in our capacities, and most of all, the delicious hot chocolate! How fondly he was able to recount for me those days. He had entered in the third grade, unable to read, and I know you'll forgive the exaggeration if I say, he was ready for Shakespeare by the end of his first week after our sisters began shaping him up.

Of such details are memories made of. Of such memories are children made of. Of such sisters are futures made of.

But all futures have their pasts, the past that so matters to us today, the past that we honor, the past that we continue. That past shines like a beacon, even with the shards of despair that we cannot disregard.

I should also share with you the little palpitations I felt upon getting my invitation to speak today, for I recalled, of all things, the homework (!!!) that the sisters assigned. I knew that a true honoring of them and of their works would involve more homework on my part; homework to learn more than I thought I knew.

I learned that the church did not consider slavery a sin; that the archdiocese here, at least once, sought the cooperation of the Maryland Chapter of the American Colonization Society, a political group that sought to rid the country of all free Blacks, who were perceived to be dangerous; that while one archbishop had in a book on moral theology argued slavery was absolutely approved by canon law, another archbishop.that was Ecclestion, owned slaves himself, along with many priests and sisters, who diligently instructed their "people-property" in the requirements and rituals of their church.

These bare simple facts do more than make us pause at the tasks before the Oblate Sisters. They make us marvel.

You may know that four French-speaking women, from Caribbean shores and under the ever faithful leadership of Sister Elizabeth Clarisse Lange, who had already begun a home-based school, in 1828 began seeking the required approvals for the establishment of an order within her beloved church. Her efforts, though astutely assisted by Father James Hector Joubert, a French-born nobleman, met at each turn treatment different from the centuries-old histories of other female orders of the church.

For example: they did not take vows; they made promises of obedience, annually renewed. The lower status of promises, rather than the higher one of vows, meant that they had at least a chance of becoming an official sisterhood.  Vows, the history shows us, were out of the question.

Also, the sources of financial support forthcoming to other orders were not theirs: they received minimal support from the archdiocese and no gifts of housing or properties.  Even the planned contributions of money from the priests and archbishops were minuscule or non-existent. At each point in negotiating the approval of Sister Lange's efforts, Father Joubert supported the sisters, and interpreted to his superiors their teaching and spiritual goals as to make possible some setting for the actualization of their ever abiding faith.

Further facts tell an ever fuller story; of all the sisterhoods in the diocese of Baltimore that taught children, only the curriculum of our sisters included washing and ironing. Several official records over time reflect the expectation that the school would provide, along with preparation for motherhood, domestic servants to the community.

In addition to that fact, it was the only community of women religious in their diocese that was not designated a pontifical institute, meaning that no constitution was permitted.only rules-they could not receive approval for a constitution, and such approval was required in order to become a pontifical institute.

I've hardly become an expert in canon law, but patterns in treatment and in action are what the study of history gives us. Our sisters faced prejudices that the teaching of their church supported.

We can all recognize that it can be too easy and quite misleading to view past matters from today's perspectives. We must be careful not to look at 19th century events with 21st century eyes, for to do so would ignore the interim, accumulating events and actions that -step by step-contribution by contribution, resistance by resistance, shaped the history that has brought us to this very day.

For the true heart of the story and of today's celebration of the sisters' founding 175 years ago is not just what was done or not done to them by their church, but what they were able to do despite the neglect of them by their church and because of their faith, a faith that seems, from this perspective, only internal.

A telling story might intrigue you, as it has me. Sister Lange was approached by members of the Sulpicians at St. Mary's Seminary who supervised them; to provide for an annual fee (of $210) paid them for the housekeeping and nursing services of two sisters. Of course, the money mattered. It mattered to their very survival.

Sister Lange began her written response with a deference that was couched in submissive language of those times. She referred specifically to the difficulty of race as it combined with the wearing of the holy habit. She acknowledged the need not to be arrogant.

After all the cushioning language, she proceeded to delineate the further terms she found necessary: first-clear separation from the other servants and outside people at the seminary; second, determination by her of the number and the selection of those to work there-along with, mind you, her determination of how long they stayed and her approval of other personnel working with them. Then, at the end, she requested a written copy of this agreement, for the Oblate files, of course!

Let us appreciate the skills, the eagle eye to negotiate limits usually disregarded when women's work is involved, and the ever-vigilant awareness of the sisters as black women religious, with emphasis in this instance of the black part.

And the copy! Let us not overlook the copy. For Sister Lange knew what could happen in the future with these kinds of "understandings," if you will, if not nailed down precisely.

I have learned that her requesting document is the only one we have today in her own handwriting.

How relevant to the sisters' pioneering work in educating black children are her protective actions of almost two centuries ago. Today, their school educates children, from grades nine to twelve.

The total of students taught by them over their many years may surpass many thousands. But as one of them, almost half a century ago, I can attest that they made no distinctions based on our varied incomes or on our array of skin tones. We sensed that; we knew that. And our paths were cleared for learning take-off.

It is, after all, education that brings us here for this fundraiser. It is education that creates for children not just a future, but the sense of that future, as it unfolds ever so subtly within the child.

A key element for good learning looms large in its obviousness, and that is, the element of acceptance.

The patience and reassurance that the teacher offers gives the child the comfort and the acceptance that makes mistakes not matter but instead become stepping stones.

The sisters at St. Cyprian's gave me that.

Another important ingredient for learning is a setting that one can be sure is fair and helpful. Any system, political or educational, that stacks the deck in favor of any particular group drains energy away from the primary task. The sisters gave me, as they did to all of us, that fairness and that helpfulness.

Now what that meant, to that once five year old speaking to you now, was the assurance-with respect to any task and any assignment-as to when I would conquer it, not whether.

We were not blamed for not knowing. We were guided to knowing.

We were not put down for any reason external. We were put up for all reasons eternal.

Reasons of grace. Of purpose. Of moving towards the larger, not the lesser.

How grand this legacy is that I have described. A legacy with so broad a reach as to find the accomplished son of a daughter of the school, our much acclaimed Charles Dutton, who honored me with his introduction.

This legacy endures, such that 92% of students at St. Frances Academy go on to college, in contrast to the national average of 65%. And, by the way, in contrast to the 76% of African American males who do not finish public high school in Baltimore City.same demographics of African Americans that the sisters serve and more than 50% of Baltimore ninth graders drop out of public schools.

However, this legacy continues more firmly with your support. It is the gifts we have been given that make possible the gifts we give.

We have been blessed to know the works of our Oblate Sisters, works that have been gifts to our lives or the lives of those we love.

I thank you all.