Uploaded on: 06/24/2007
St. Peter Claver member recounts struggles with racism
By Terry Kolb
The Catholic Spirit
Arthur McWatt at home in St. Paul |
Arthur McWatt never had to sit in the back of the bus growing up black in St. Paul in the 1940s. But to this day, he notices that the seat next to him is the last to be taken at many gatherings.
“It’s very embarrassing, and it’s a subtle form of racism,” said McWatt, a member of St. Peter Claver in St. Paul, a historically black church that was founded in the late 1880s. “But that’s the history of our society, and we have to live with it.”
Just like he and his black Boy Scout friends had to live with the fact that — although the YMCA offered use of its pool to Scouts — black Boy Scouts could swim only once a week, on a night designated for blacks.
Just like he and some black buddies could play golf at Lake Phalen, but no one came to their aid when a drunk shouted racial slurs on the streetcar they took. “I was really scared,” McWatt said.
Just like being told, during World War II, that the Marines did not want him because they had their quota of 25 blacks for the month. Instead, he joined the Army Air Corps, where he had to pass two physicals because of skin color.
McWatt was born in St. Paul in 1926, attended Mechanic Arts High School, and after military service, graduated from the University of Minnesota and taught school for more than 35 years.
He acknowledged that his experiences growing up black did shape his life — as similar experiences have shaped the lives of millions of African-American people.
“I get angry at times. I have reacted to injustices, but I’m basically a shy person, and many, many times I have been very scared,” McWatt said.
He grew up in a racially-mixed neighborhood where skin color did not seem to matter. But as he traveled farther and farther from that neighborhood — first as a high school student and later as a serviceman and adult — he said white people made it clear that he was a second-class citizen.
“I had a wonderful, wonderful childhood. It was delightful,” he said. The neighborhood kids went everywhere together. We walked over the arches on top of the Wabasha Bridge and sat on the horses on top of the State Capitol.”
One of McWatt’s first scares occurred when he and some buddies were playing baseball and a white person shouted racial slurs and threw a cantaloupe that hit him in the head.
Racism escalated when he left St. Paul by train and headed for basic training at Keesler Air Force Base in Mississippi. “I had to get off the train in Aurora, Ill., and transfer to the Jim Crow car, which was an experience in itself,” he said.
But that did not deter him from sitting in the front of a bus in Gulfport, Miss. The driver chased him off the bus and warned him that no “niggers” were allowed out after dark in the South.
McWatt returned home after the war and four years later became the fifth black person to teach in the St. Paul public schools. He retired from teaching to write about African-Americans and their contributions to society. His African-American history course, “Chronicles of Freedom,” is for high school students. His recent book, “Crusaders for Justice,” not yet published, relates the stories of those who contributed to race relations in St. Paul.
He is proud to be African-American and proud of his heritage and his people. His story — of a fun-filled childhood and rewarding career, darkened by the shadow of racism — is not much different from the stories of other African-Americans.
His list of African-Americans who have shaped local history include the names of lawyers, architects, college professors, historians, civil rights leaders, law enforcement people and politicians.
“My wife, Katie, would definitely be on the list,” he said. “More people know her than any other black person in the city. She ran for City Council, is vice-president of the NAACP and is the most Christian person I ever met in my life.”
McWatt also has praise for other African-American women. He said they spend their money on clothes and hats to wear to church on Sunday. “They manage to look marvelous,” he said.
African-American men have a religious heritage too, he said. Many of them become successful ministers. He is disappointed that more black men have not become Catholic priests.
“After Father Stephen Theobald we never had another black priest in St. Paul. I think the reason for that is that few of us have the opportunity to move on and gain, so a priest was a luxury that few black families could afford,” he said. “Yet we’re a very vocal people, and ministers are clever men who communicate well.”
For African-Americans of any denomination, the church is the center of the social structure, according to St. Joseph Sister Sharon Howell, executive secretary of the archdiocese’s Commission of Black Catholics
“Churches like St. Peter Claver in St. Paul and St. Leonard in Minneapolis are both social and and spiritual centers,” she said.
Traditionally, African-American parents make it very clear how children are to behave in church, she said. The children learned at an early age what was expected of them, she added.
“If you didn’t behave, they helped you learn very quickly to sit up straight, sit still and be quiet,” she said. “Our church belongs to us, so parents encourage children to take leadership roles.”