Psychiatrist and holocaust survivor Victor Frankl wrote a groundbreaking book in 1946, Man’s Search for Meaning, referencing Frederich Nietzsche’s quote, “He who has a why can bear with almost any how.”
What Prudence Randall (1803-1890) did in the face of injustice is impressive; why she did it is more striking still. She opened a boarding school for young girls in Canterbury, Connecticut in 1831. Her school was prosperous, a full complement of forty white girls located on the town green. When a black applicant, Sarah Harris, was admitted, her fortunes changed. Parents of white students withdrew their daughters, and the backlash was fierce. Undaunted, Prudence reopened the school as Miss Randall’s School for Young Ladies and Little Misses of Color. She advertised in an abolitionist newspaper, and girls of color from other states enrolled. Local leaders pushed through the state legislature the “Black Law,” preventing students of color from crossing state boundaries to attend schools unless authorized by local jurisdictions. Prudence went forward with the school. Her brother remembered her as “a very obstinate girl.” She was arrested, jailed, and convicted of breaking the law. Her case went before the state supreme court, which overturned the conviction and dismissed the charge. Townspeople took matters into their own hands, poisoned the school’s well, and attempted to burn the school down. Prudence closed the school and moved away. Justice came late to Prudence. Four years before she died, the state awarded her a four-hundred-dollar annual pension at Mark Twain’s urging. In more recent times, she has been recognized in the National Women’s History Museum and the Connecticut Women’s Hall of Fame.
That’s how it happened, but less well-known is why she did what she did. Prudence was raised in a devout Christian home and attended a Quaker abolitionist school. She wrote of her decision, “I said in my heart, here are my convictions. What shall I do? Shall I be inactive and permit prejudice in the matter, the mother of abominations, to remain undisturbed? Or shall I venture to enlist in the ranks of those who, with the Sword of Truth, dare hold combat with prevailing iniquity? I contemplated for a while the manner in which I might best serve people of color. As wealth was not mine, I saw no other means of benefiting them than by imparting to those of my own sex who were anxious to learn all the instruction I might be able to give, however small the amount.” (Her “Sword of Truth” reference is drawn from Eph. 6.17.) When confronted with whether to admit Sarah, she delayed her decision, prayed, and read her Bible. The verse that clinched it for her was from Ecclesiastes, “I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun. I saw the tears of the oppressed—and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors—and they have no comforter” (Eccl. 4.1). When Prudence was eighty-one, living with her brother in Kansas, she composed a poem intended as a prayer. Here are a few excerpts: