with roses; it was an arduous road. Thanks to financial help amounting to 600 dollars offered her by some members of one of the churches, she was able to take costly lessons from one of the great masters of music. And with her teacher's help, and the slender earnings that came to her from her part in concerts, Marian decided to try her luck for the first time on the stage of Town Hall in New York — one of those halls the press critics were careful to frequent so as to supply their papers with their reviews. Their comments, for the most part, did not heap praise and flattery upon her.
The attitude of the critics might well have broken her resolve, and one day she thought of giving up singing altogether. But she felt, as the months passed, that song and music held too deep a place in her heart for her to turn away from them; and thanks to the encouragement she met with from her mother, she set about practicing her singing anew. And not long afterward she was chosen from among 600 singers who had entered a musical competition, and the choice fell on her to sing at the Lewisohn stadium in New York with the New York musical ensemble. Then came England, for study
and learning; and she obtained from the Julius Rosenwald foundation a grant that enabled her to go to Germany to specialize there in singing under the great German masters — and from that time the doors of the world of art swung wide open before her.
If we look back across the forty-two years Marian Anderson has spent in the profession of song, it is hard for us to single out the finest of the tributes, honors, and praise this singer has received. Is it, for instance, the medal bestowed on her by the King of Sweden? Or the Edward Bok award presented to her by the city of Philadelphia — the city in which she first saw the light — an award that holds a great place and standing in her heart for its meaning and significance, since it was accompanied by a gift of 10,000 dollars, which Marian chose to devote to helping young women singers of promising future. Or might this deep-rooted honor not lie, one wonders, in the invitation that came to her in 1954 from the Metropolitan Opera company to join its membership, though she had never before worked in companies of that kind — and she reached the very summit of success at her first attempt. Or is it Arturo Toscanini's
testimony to her: 'A voice like yours is one we may not meet the like of in a hundred years.'
And perhaps the most splendid of all these glories was the wave of emotion she felt on Easter Day in the year 1939, when Marian Anderson received an invitation from the American government to sing before the people in Washington, on the steps leading up to the Lincoln Memorial. In the choice of that very spot there was grandeur and a lesson: was not Lincoln the president who fought in defense of the enslaved and for their liberation? It was a memorable day in the American capital. Despite the biting cold, 75,000 listeners and spectators attended, among them members of the Supreme Court and men of the American government.
Marian Anderson closed her book with a special chapter in which she treated the problem that Negroes sometimes face with whites, and expressed her great hope for the future of the American Negroes and the future of America as a single whole. And it is surely her right to take pride and glory in the contribution she has made toward their progress together.
