To make me believe that those men who have regulated education in

Hear the burning words of Robert Purvis, the abolitionist and defender of justice, who declared: “To make me believe that those men who have regulated education in our country have humanity in their hearts is to make me believe a lie.” This cry is not born of bitterness alone but of righteous indignation. It unmasks the hypocrisy of those who claim to guide a nation’s learning while deliberately denying light to those whom they consider unworthy. Purvis, who lived in the fire of America’s struggle against slavery, knew from experience that education had been twisted into a weapon—given to some, withheld from others—so that power might remain in the hands of the oppressor.

To regulate education is to shape the future. Those who hold such power hold the destiny of generations in their hands. Yet Purvis saw that this power was wielded not with compassion but with cruelty. For in his time, Black children were denied schools, or given only the poorest instruction, while white children received the benefits of learning. The very leaders who claimed to govern with justice erected barriers against knowledge, knowing full well that ignorance was a chain as strong as iron. To believe such men acted from humanity would, as Purvis said, be to believe a lie.

History itself bears witness to this truth. Recall the laws of the slave South, where it was forbidden to teach enslaved men and women to read. The rulers feared the power of the written word, for in education lies awakening, and in awakening lies rebellion. It was not lack of ability that kept slaves unlettered, but deliberate policy. Those who regulated education chose to preserve injustice, proving that their hearts were hardened against humanity. Purvis, born into privilege yet devoted to the cause of abolition, raised his voice against this hypocrisy.

Consider too the story of Frederick Douglass, who as a boy learned the alphabet in secret. His mistress at first began to teach him, until her husband forbade it, declaring that education would make him “unfit to be a slave.” Douglass later wrote that in that moment he understood the true power of learning. His life became a testament to Purvis’s words: the men who denied education to others had no compassion, only fear, for they knew that knowledge would undo their tyranny.

The meaning of Purvis’s words, then, is a warning to all ages: those who regulate education without justice cannot claim the mantle of humanity. A system that lifts one group while condemning another to ignorance is not built upon compassion but upon domination. To deny light is to embrace darkness. To deny knowledge is to deny the very essence of what makes us human.

The lesson for us is profound. If we would live with true humanity, we must ensure that education is not rationed as privilege, but shared as a birthright. We must look with suspicion upon any who claim to guide learning but restrict it for profit, for control, or for prejudice. For as Purvis saw, such regulation is not benevolent, but cruel, and its fruit is division, inequality, and suffering.

And what actions must we take? Defend the right of every child to receive education of quality, regardless of race, wealth, or origin. Support schools that uplift the marginalized. Share knowledge freely, for it is the great equalizer. And above all, speak boldly, as Purvis did, against the lies of those who disguise injustice with pious words. For if we remain silent, the lie persists; but if we shine light on it, the truth prevails.

Thus let Purvis’s words echo across generations: “To make me believe that those men who have regulated education in our country have humanity in their hearts is to make me believe a lie.” Do not believe the lie. Demand justice in education, for in it lies the key to liberty. Where knowledge flows freely, humanity thrives; where it is withheld, oppression reigns. Let us choose the path of light, and give to all the gift of learning, for in it is the hope of the world.