From the shimmering swirl of waters where many, many thoughts ago the
slave-ship first saw the square tower of Jamestown have flowed down to
our day three streams of thinking: one from the larger world here and
over-seas, saying, the multiplying of human wants in culture lands calls
for the world-wide co-operation of men in satisfying them. Hence arises
a new human unity, pulling the ends of earth nearer, and all men, black,
yellow, and white. The larger humanity strives to feel in this contact
of living nations and sleeping hordes a thrill of new life in the world,
crying, If the contact of Life and Sleep be Death, shame on such Life.
To be sure, behind this thought lurks the afterthought of force and
dominion,--the making of brown men to delve when the temptation of beads
and red calico cloys.
The second thought streaming from the death-ship and the curving river
is the thought of the older South: the sincere and passionate belief
that somewhere between men and cattle God created a tertium quid, and
called it a Negro,--a clownish, simple creature, at times even lovable
within its limitations, but straitly foreordained to walk within the
Veil. To be sure, behind the thought lurks the afterthought,--some of
them with favoring chance might become men, but in sheer self-defense we
dare not let them, and build about them walls so high, and hang between
them and the light a veil so thick, that they shall not even think of
breaking through.
And last of all there trickles down that third and darker thought, the
thought of the things themselves, the confused half-conscious mutter
of men who are black and whitened, crying Liberty, Freedom,
Opportunity--vouchsafe to us, O boastful World, the chance of living
men! To be sure, behind the thought lurks the afterthought: suppose,
after all, the World is right and we are less than men? Suppose this mad
impulse within is all wrong, some mock mirage from the untrue?
So here we stand among thoughts of human unity, even through conquest
and slavery; the inferiority of black men, even if forced by fraud; a
shriek in the night for the freedom of men who themselves are not yet
sure of their right to demand it. This is the tangle of thought and
afterthought wherein we are called to solve the problem of training men
for life.
Behind all its curiousness, so attractive alike to sage and dilettante,
lie its dim dangers, throwing across us shadows at once grotesque and
awful. Plain it is to us that what the world seeks through desert and
wild we have within our threshold;--a stalwart laboring force, suited to
the semi-tropics; if, deaf to the voice of the Zeitgeist, we refuse to
use and develop these men, we risk poverty and loss. If, on the other
hand, seized by the brutal afterthought, we debauch the race thus caught
in our talons, selfishly sucking their blood and brains in the future as
in the past, what shall save us from national decadence? Only that saner
selfishness which, Education teaches men, can find the rights of all in
the whirl of work.
Again, we may decry the color prejudice of the South, yet it remains
a heavy fact. Such curious kinks of the human mind exist and must
be reckoned with soberly. They cannot be laughed away, nor always
successfully stormed at, nor easily abolished by act of legislature.
And yet they cannot be encouraged by being let alone. They must be
recognized as facts, but unpleasant facts; things that stand in the way
of civilization and religion and common decency. They can be met in but
one way: by the breadth and broadening of human reason, by catholicity
of taste and culture. And so, too, the native ambition and aspiration
of men, even though they be black, backward, and ungraceful, must not
lightly be dealt with. To stimulate wildly weak and untrained minds is
to play with mighty fires; to flout their striving idly is to welcome
a harvest of brutish crime and shameless lethargy in our very laps. The
guiding of thought and the deft coordination of deed is at once the path
of honor and humanity.
And so, in this great question of reconciling three vast and partially
contradictory streams of thought, the one panacea of Education leaps to
the lips of all; such human training as will best use the labor of all
men without enslaving or brutalizing; such training as will give us
poise to encourage the prejudices that bulwark society, and stamp out
those that in sheer barbarity deafen us to the wail of prisoned souls
within the Veil, and the mounting fury of shackled men.
But when we have vaguely said Education will set this tangle straight,
what have we uttered but a truism? Training for life teaches living; but
what training for the profitable living together of black men and
white? Two hundred years ago our task would have seemed easier. Then
Dr. Johnson blandly assured us that education was needed solely for the
embellishments of life, and was useless for ordinary vermin. To-day we
have climbed to heights where we would open at least the outer courts of
knowledge to all, display its treasures to many, and select the few
to whom its mystery of Truth is revealed, not wholly by truth or
the accidents of the stock market, but at least in part according to
deftness and aim, talent and character. This programme, however, we are
sorely puzzled in carrying out through that part of the land where
the blight of slavery fell hardest, and where we are dealing with two
backward peoples. To make here in human education that ever necessary
combination of the permanent and the contingent--of the ideal and the
practical in workable equilibrium--has been there, as it ever must be
in every age and place, a matter of infinite experiment and frequent
mistakes.
In rough approximation we may point out four varying decades of work in
Southern education since the Civil War. From the close of the war until
1876 was the period of uncertain groping and temporary relief. There
were army schools, mission schools, and schools of the Freedmen's Bureau
in chaotic disarrangement, seeking system and cooperation. Then followed
ten years of constructive definite effort toward the building of
complete school systems in the South. Normal schools and colleges were
founded for the freedmen, and teachers trained there to man the public
schools. There was the inevitable tendency of war to underestimate the
prejudice of the master and the ignorance of the slave, and all seemed
clear sailing out of the wreckage of the storm. Meantime, starting
in this decade yet especially developing from 1885 to 1895, began the
industrial revolution of the South. The land saw glimpses of a new
destiny and the stirring of new ideals. The educational system striving
to complete itself saw new obstacles and a field of work ever broader
and deeper. The Negro colleges, hurriedly founded, were inadequately
equipped, illogically distributed, and of varying efficiency and grade;
the normal and high schools were doing little more than common school
work, and the common schools were training but a third of the children
who ought to be in them, and training these too often poorly. At the
same time the white South, by reason of its sudden conversion from the
slavery ideal, by so much the more became set and strengthened in its
racial prejudice, and crystallized it into harsh law and harsher custom;
while the marvelous pushing forward of the poor white daily threatened
to take even bread and butter from the mouths of the heavily handicapped
sons of the freedmen. In the midst, then, of the larger problem of Negro
education sprang up the more practical question of work, the inevitable
economic quandary that faces a people in the transition from slavery
to freedom, and especially those who make that change amid hate and
prejudice, lawlessness and ruthless competition.
The industrial school springing to notice in this decade, but coming to
full recognition in the decade beginning with 1895, was the proffered
answer to this combined educational and economic crisis, and an answer
of singular wisdom and timeliness. From the very first in nearly all the
schools some attention had been given to training in handiwork, but now
was this training first raised to a dignity that brought it in direct
touch with the South's magnificent industrial development, and given an
emphasis which reminded black folk that before the Temple of Knowledge
swing the Gates of Toil.
Yet after all they are but gates, and when turning our eyes from
the temporary and the contingent in the Negro problem to the broader
question of the permanent uplifting and civilization of black men in
America, we have a right to inquire, as this enthusiasm for material
advancement mounts to its height, if after all the industrial school is
the final and sufficient answer in the training of the Negro race; and
to ask gently, but in all sincerity, the ever recurring query of the
ages, Is not life more than meat, and the body more than raiment? And
men ask this to-day all the more eagerly because of sinister signs in
recent educational movements. The tendency is here born of slavery and
quickened to renewed life by the crazy imperialism of the day, to regard
human beings as among the material resources of a land to be trained
with an eye single to future dividends. Race prejudices, which keep
brown and black men in their "places," we are coming to regard as useful
allies with such a theory, no matter how much they may dull the ambition
and sicken the hearts of struggling human beings. And above all, we
daily hear that an education that encourages aspiration, that sets
the loftiest of ideals and seeks as an end culture and character than
bread-winning, is the privilege of white men and the danger and delusion
of black.
Especially has criticism been directed against the former educational
efforts to aid the Negro. In the four periods I have mentioned, we find
first boundless, planless enthusiasm and sacrifice; then the preparation
of teachers for a vast public school system; then the launching and
expansion of that school system amid increasing difficulties; and
finally the training of workmen for the new and growing industries. This
development has been sharply ridiculed as a logical anomaly and flat
reversal of nature. Soothly we have been told that first industrial
and manual training should have taught the Negro to work, then simple
schools should have taught him to read and write, and finally, after
years, high and normal schools could have completed the system, as
intelligence and wealth demanded.
That a system logically so complete was historically impossible, it
needs but a little thought to prove. Progress in human affairs is more
often a pull than a push, surging forward of the exceptional man, and
the lifting of his duller brethren slowly and painfully to his vantage
ground. Thus it was no accident that gave birth to universities
centuries before the common schools, that made fair Harvard the first
flower of our wilderness. So in the South: the mass of the freedmen
at the end of the war lacked the intelligence so necessary to modern
workingmen. They must first have the common school to teach them to
read, write, and cipher. The white teachers who flocked South went to
establish such a common school system. They had no idea of founding
colleges; they themselves at first would have laughed at the idea. But
they faced, as all men since them have faced, that central paradox of
the South, the social separation of the races. Then it was the sudden
volcanic rupture of nearly all relations between black and white, in
work and government and family life. Since then a new adjustment of
relations in economic and political affairs has grown up,--an adjustment
subtle and difficult to grasp, yet singularly ingenious, which leaves
still that frightful chasm at the color line across which men pass at
their peril. Thus, then and now, there stand in the South two separate
worlds; and separate not simply in the higher realms of social
intercourse, but also in church and school, on railway and street car,
in hotels and theatres, in streets and city sections, in books and
newspapers, in asylums and jails, in hospitals and graveyards. There is
still enough of contact for large economic and group cooperation, but
the separation is so thorough and deep, that it absolutely precludes
for the present between the races anything like that sympathetic and
effective group training and leadership of the one by the other, such
as the American Negro and all backward peoples must have for effectual
progress.
This the missionaries of '68 soon saw; and if effective industrial and
trade schools were impractical before the establishment of a common
school system, just as certainly no adequate common schools could be
founded until there were teachers to teach them. Southern whites would
not teach them; Northern whites in sufficient numbers could not be had.
If the Negro was to learn, he must teach himself, and the most effective
help that could be given him was the establishment of schools to train
Negro teachers. This conclusion was slowly but surely reached by every
student of the situation until simultaneously, in widely separated
regions, without consultation or systematic plan, there arose a series
of institutions designed to furnish teachers for the untaught. Above
the sneers of critics at the obvious defects of this procedure must ever
stand its one crushing rejoinder: in a single generation they put thirty
thousand black teachers in the South; they wiped out the illiteracy of
the majority of the black people of the land, and they made Tuskegee
possible.
Such higher training schools tended naturally to deepen broader
development: at first they were common and grammar schools, then some
became high schools. And finally, by 1900, some thirty-four had one year
or more of studies of college grade. This development was reached with
different degrees of speed in different institutions: Hampton is still
a high school, while Fisk University started her college in 1871, and
Spelman Seminary about 1896. In all cases the aim was identical: to
maintain the standards of the lower training by giving teachers and
leaders the best practicable training; and above all to furnish the
black world with adequate standards of human culture and lofty ideals of
life. It was not enough that the teachers of teachers should be trained
in technical normal methods; they must also, so far as possible, be
broad-minded, cultured men and women, to scatter civilization among a
people whose ignorance was not simply of letters, but of life itself.
It can thus be seen that the work of education in the South began with
higher institutions of training, which threw off as their foliage common
schools, and later industrial schools, and at the same time strove to
shoot their roots ever deeper toward college and university training.
That this was an inevitable and necessary development, sooner or later,
goes without saying; but there has been, and still is, a question in
many minds if the natural growth was not forced, and if the higher
training was not either overdone or done with cheap and unsound methods.
Among white Southerners this feeling is widespread and positive. A
prominent Southern journal voiced this in a recent editorial:
"The experiment that has been made to give the colored students
classical training has not been satisfactory. Even though many were able
to pursue the course, most of them did so in a parrot-like way, learning
what was taught, but not seeming to appropriate the truth and import
of their instruction, and graduating without sensible aim or valuable
occupation for their future. The whole scheme has proved a waste of
time, efforts, and the money of the state."
While most far-minded men would recognize this as extreme and overdrawn,
still without doubt many are asking, Are there a sufficient number of
Negroes ready for college training to warrant the undertaking? Are not
too many students prematurely forced into this work? Does it not have
the effect of dissatisfying the young Negro with his environment? And do
these graduates succeed in real life? Such natural questions cannot be
evaded, nor on the other hand must a nation naturally skeptical as to
Negro ability assume an unfavorable answer without careful inquiry and
patient openness to conviction. We must not forget that most Americans
answer all queries regarding the Negro a priori, and that the least that
human courtesy can do is to listen to evidence.
The advocates of the higher education of the Negro would be the last to
deny the incompleteness and glaring defects of the present system: too
many institutions have attempted to do college work, the work in some
cases has not been thoroughly done, and quantity rather than quality
has sometimes been sought. But all this can be said of higher education
throughout the land: it is the almost inevitable incident of educational
growth, and leaves the deeper question of the legitimate demand for the
higher training of Negroes untouched. And this latter question can be
settled in but one way--by a first-hand study of the facts. If we leave
out of view all institutions which have not actually graduated students
from a course higher than that of a New England high school, even though
they be called colleges; if then we take the thirty-four remaining
institutions, we may clear up many misapprehensions by asking
searchingly, What kind of institutions are they, what do they teach, and
what sort of men do they graduate?
And first we may say that this type of college, including Atlanta, Fisk
and Howard, Wilberforce and Lincoln, Biddle, Shaw, and the rest, is
peculiar, almost unique. Through the shining trees that whisper before
me as I write, I catch glimpses of a boulder of New England granite,
covering a grave, which graduates of Atlanta University have placed
there:--
"IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OF THEIR
FORMER TEACHER AND FRIEND
AND OF THE UNSELFISH LIFE HE
LIVED, AND THE NOBLE WORK HE
WROUGHT; THAT THEY, THEIR
CHILDREN, AND THEIR CHIL-
DREN'S CHILDREN MIGHT BE
BLESSED."
This was the gift of New England to the freed Negro: not alms, but
a friend; not cash, but character. It was not and is not money these
seething millions want, but love and sympathy, the pulse of hearts
beating with red blood; a gift which to-day only their own kindred and
race can bring to the masses, but which once saintly souls brought to
their favored children in the crusade of the sixties, that finest thing
in American history, and one of the few things untainted by sordid greed
and cheap vainglory. The teachers in these institutions came not to keep
the Negroes in their place, but to raise them out of their places where
the filth of slavery had wallowed them. The colleges they founded were
social settlements; homes where the best of the sons of the freedmen
came in close and sympathetic touch with the best traditions of New
England. They lived and ate together, studies and worked, hoped and
harkened in the dawning light. In actual formal content their curriculum
was doubtless old-fashioned, but in educational power it was supreme,
for it was the contact of living souls.
From such schools about two thousand Negroes have gone forth with the
bachelor's degree. The number in itself is enough to put at rest the
argument that too large a proportion of Negroes are receiving higher
training. If the ratio to population of all Negro students throughout
the land, in both college and secondary training, be counted,
Commissioner Harris assures us "it must be increased to five times its
present average" to equal the average of the land.
Fifty years ago the ability of Negro students in any appreciable numbers
to master a modern college course would have been difficult to prove.
To-day it is proved by the fact that four hundred Negroes, many of whom
have been reported as brilliant students, have received the bachelor's
degree from Harvard, Yale, Oberlin, and seventy other leading colleges.
Here we have, then, nearly twenty-five hundred Negro graduates, of whom
the crucial query must be made. How far did their training fit them for
life? It is of course extremely difficult to collect satisfactory
data on such a point,--difficult to reach the men, to get trustworthy
testimony, and to gauge that testimony by any generally acceptable
criterion of success. In 1900, the Conference at Atlanta University
undertook to study these graduates, and published the results. First
they sought to know what these graduates were doing, and succeeded
in getting answers from nearly two thirds of the living. The direct
testimony was in almost all cases corroborated by the reports of the
colleges where they graduated, so that in the main the reports were
worthy of credence. Fifty-three per cent of these graduates were
teachers,--presidents of institutions, heads of normal schools,
principals of city school systems, and the like. Seventeen per cent were
clergymen; another seventeen per cent were in the professions, chiefly
as physicians. Over six per cent were merchants, farmers, and artisans,
and four per cent were in the government civil service. Granting
even that a considerable proportion of the third unheard from are
unsuccessful, this is a record of usefulness. Personally I know many
hundreds of these graduates and have corresponded with more than a
thousand; through others I have followed carefully the life-work of
scores; I have taught some of them and some of the pupils whom they
have taught, lived in homes which they have builded, and looked at life
through their eyes. Comparing them as a class with my fellow students in
New England and in Europe, I cannot hesitate in saying that nowhere have
I met men and women with a broader spirit of helpfulness, with deeper
devotion to their life-work, or with more consecrated determination to
succeed in the face of bitter difficulties than among Negro college-bred
men. They have, to be sure, their proportion of ne'er-do-weels,
their pedants and lettered fools, but they have a surprisingly small
proportion of them; they have not that culture of manner which we
instinctively associate with university men, forgetting that in reality
it is the heritage from cultured homes, and that no people a generation
removed from slavery can escape a certain unpleasant rawness and
gaucherie, despite the best of training.
With all their larger vision and deeper sensibility, these men have
usually been conservative, careful leaders. They have seldom been
agitators, have withstood the temptation to head the mob, and have
worked steadily and faithfully in a thousand communities in the South.
As teachers they have given the South a commendable system of city
schools and large numbers of private normal schools and academies.
Colored college-bred men have worked side by side with white college
graduates at Hampton; almost from the beginning the backbone of
Tuskegee's teaching force has been formed of graduates from Fisk and
Atlanta. And to-day the institute is filled with college graduates, from
the energetic wife of the principal down to the teacher of agriculture,
including nearly half of the executive council and a majority of the
heads of departments. In the professions, college men are slowly but
surely leavening the Negro church, are healing and preventing the
devastations of disease, and beginning to furnish legal protection for
the liberty and property of the toiling masses. All this is needful
work. Who would do it if Negroes did not? How could Negroes do it if
they were not trained carefully for it? If white people need colleges to
furnish teachers, ministers, lawyers, and doctors, do black people need
nothing of the sort?
If it be true that there are an appreciable number of Negro youth in the
land capable by character and talent to receive that higher training,
the end of which is culture, and if the two and a half thousand who
have had something of this training in the past have in the main proved
themselves useful to their race and generation, the question then
comes, What place in the future development of the South might the
Negro college and college-bred man to occupy? That the present social
separation and acute race sensitiveness must eventually yield to the
influences of culture as the South grows civilized is clear. But such
transformation calls for singular wisdom and patience. If, while the
healing of this vast sore is progressing, the races are to live for
many years side by side, united in economic effort, obeying a common
government, sensitive to mutual thought and feeling, yet subtly and
silently separate in many matters of deeper human intimacy--if this
unusual and dangerous development is to progress amid peace and order,
mutual respect and growing intelligence, it will call for social surgery
at once the delicatest and nicest in modern history. It will demand
broad-minded, upright men both white and black, and in its final
accomplishment American civilization will triumph. So far as white men
are concerned, this fact is to-day being recognized in the South, and a
happy renaissance of university education seems imminent. But the very
voices that cry Hail! to this good work are, strange to relate, largely
silent or antagonistic to the higher education of the Negro.
Strange to relate! for this is certain, no secure civilization can be
built in the South with the Negro as an ignorant, turbulent proletariat.
Suppose we seek to remedy this by making them laborers and nothing more:
they are not fools, they have tasted of the Tree of Life, and they will
not cease to think, will not cease attempting to read the riddle of
the world. By taking away their best equipped teachers and leaders,
by slamming the door of opportunity in the faces of their bolder and
brighter minds, will you make them satisfied with their lot? or will you
not rather transfer their leading from the hands of men taught to
think to the hands of untrained demagogues? We ought not to forget that
despite the pressure of poverty, and despite the active discouragement
and even ridicule of friends, the demand for higher training steadily
increases among Negro youth: there were, in the years from 1875 to 1880,
twenty-two Negro graduates from Northern colleges; from 1885 to 1895
there were forty-three, and from 1895 to 1900, nearly 100 graduates.
From Southern Negro colleges there were, in the same three periods,
143, 413, and over 500 graduates. Here, then, is the plain thirst for
training; by refusing to give this Talented Tenth the key to knowledge
can any sane man imagine that they will lightly lay aside their yearning
and contentedly become hewers of wood and drawers of water?
No. The dangerously clear logic of the Negro's position will more and
more loudly assert itself in that day when increasing wealth and more
intricate social organization preclude the South from being, as it so
largely is, simply an armed camp for intimidating black folk. Such
waste of energy cannot be spared if the South is to catch up with
civilization. And as the black third of the land grows in thrift and
skill, unless skillfully guided in its larger philosophy, it must more
and more brood over the red past and the creeping, crooked present,
until it grasps a gospel of revolt and revenge and throws its new-found
energies athwart the current of advance. Even to-day the masses of the
Negroes see all too clearly the anomalies of their position and the
moral crookedness of yours. You may marshal strong indictments against
them, but their counter-cries, lacking though they be in formal logic,
have burning truths within them which you may not wholly ignore, O
Southern Gentlemen! If you deplore their presence here, they ask,
Who brought us? When you shriek, Deliver us from the vision of
intermarriage, they answer, that legal marriage is infinitely better
than systematic concubinage and prostitution. And if in just fury you
accuse their vagabonds of violating women, they also in fury quite as
just may wail: the rape which your gentlemen have done against helpless
black women in defiance of your own laws is written on the foreheads
of two millions of mulattoes, and written in ineffaceable blood. And
finally, when you fasten crime upon this race as its peculiar
trait, they answer that slavery was the arch-crime, and lynching and
lawlessness its twin abortion; that color and race are not crimes, and
yet they it is which in this land receive most unceasing condemnation,
North, East, South, and West.
I will not say such arguments are wholly justified--I will not insist
that there is no other side to the shield; but I do say that of the nine
millions of Negroes in this nation, there is scarcely one out of the
cradle to whom these arguments do not daily present themselves in the
guise of terrible truth. I insist that the question of the future is how
best to keep these millions from brooding over the wrongs of the past
and the difficulties of the present, so that all their energies may
be bent toward a cheerful striving and cooperation with their white
neighbors toward a larger, juster, and fuller future. That one wise
method of doing this lies in the closer knitting of the Negro to the
great industrial possibilities of the South is a great truth. And this
the common schools and the manual training and trade schools are working
to accomplish. But these alone are not enough. The foundations of
knowledge in this race, as in others, must be sunk deep in the college
and university if we would build a solid, permanent structure. Internal
problems of social advance must inevitably come,--problems of work and
wages, of families and homes, of morals and the true valuing of
the things of life; and all these and other inevitable problems of
civilization the Negro must meet and solve largely for himself, by
reason of his isolation; and can there be any possible solution other
than by study and thought and an appeal to the rich experience of the
past? Is there not, with such a group and in such a crisis, infinitely
more danger to be apprehended from half-trained minds and shallow
thinking than from over-education and over-refinement? Surely we have
wit enough to found a Negro college so manned and equipped as to steer
successfully between the dilettante and the fool. We shall hardly induce
black men to believe that if their bellies be full it matters little
about their brains. They already dimly perceive that the paths of peace
winding between honest toil and dignified manhood call for the guidance
of skilled thinkers, the loving, reverent comradeship between the black
lowly and black men emancipated by training and culture.
The function of the Negro college then is clear: it must maintain the
standards of popular education, it must seek the social regeneration of
the Negro, and it must help in the solution of problems of race contact
and cooperation. And finally, beyond all this, it must develop men.
Above our modern socialism, and out of the worship of the mass, must
persist and evolve that higher individualism which the centres of
culture protect; there must come a loftier respect for the sovereign
human soul that seeks to know itself and the world about it; that seeks
a freedom for expansion and self-development; that will love and hate
and labor in its own way, untrammeled alike by old and new. Such souls
aforetime have inspired and guided worlds, and if we be not wholly
bewitched by our Rhine-gold, they shall again. Herein the longing
of black men must have respect: the rich and bitter depth of their
experience, the unknown treasures of their inner life, the strange
rendings of nature they have seen, may give the world new points of view
and make their loving, living, and doing precious to all human hearts.
And to themselves in these the days that try their souls the chance to
soar in the dim blue air above the smoke is to their finer spirits boon
and guerdon for what they lose on earth by being black.
I sit with Shakespeare and he winces not. Across the color line I move
arm in arm with Balzac and Dumas, where smiling men and welcoming women
glide in gilded halls. From out the caves of Evening that swing between
the strong-limbed earth and the tracery of the stars, I summon Aristotle
and Aurelius and what soul I will, and they come all graciously with no
scorn nor condescension. So, wed with Truth, I dwell above the Veil. Is
this the life you grudge us, O knightly America? Is this the life you
long to change into the dull red hideousness of Georgia? Are you so
afraid lest peering from this high Pisgah, between Philistine and
Amalekite, we sight the Promised Land?