W.E.B. Du Bois: “All our hopes, our dreams are for our children.”

And yet, being a problem is a strange experience,—peculiar even for one who has never been anything else, save perhaps in babyhood and in Europe.

The Nation has not yet found peace from its sins; the freedman has not yet found in freedom his promised land.

All this segregation by color is largely independent of that natural clustering by social grades common to all communities.

After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world,—a world which yields him no true self-consciousness…