- Echoes Editor
- 16 hours ago
- 5 min read
Series 3 - Echo 2 — Sanctuaries of Learning: The Church as the First Schoolhouse
When freedom finally came, it did not arrive with schools, books, or trained teachers. For newly freed people, education began in fragments, a few lessons here, a borrowed book there, and instruction as uncertain as the freedom itself. What learning existed often depended not on institutions, but on fragile, short-lived individual efforts.
One such story appears in the slave narrative of James Turner McLean, who tells of a man named Isaac Brantley of Anderson Creek, an early would-be teacher whose efforts were brief and limited. Brantley would read aloud, and the students would repeat after him. That, McLean said, was the extent of the instruction. Brantley did not remain long, and little learning came from his presence.
McLean’s account does not describe a success story. It describes a beginning, uneven, uncertain, and incomplete. His words remind us that early education after emancipation was not immediate, organized, or reliable. Freedom had come, but schools had not.
And yet the hunger to learn was unmistakable.
A newspaper of the period, The Journal of Freedom – 1865, offered its own sharp observation:
“The Freedman has got a disease for learning. It is a mania with him.”
What the writer dismissed as a “mania” was in truth determination, a people anxious to read the Bible for themselves, to write their own names, and to understand a world that had long denied them knowledge. Learning happened wherever it could, however it could by firelight, in fields, on porches, under trees, and in borrowed spaces.
Opening Bridge: From Reconstruction to Revival
As we move from the broader landscape of early education during and after the Civil War into the lived experience of local communities, one truth becomes clear: when no formal institutions stepped forward to educate newly freed people, the church did.
Across the Sandhills, and throughout the South, Black congregations rose to meet an urgent need. Sanctuaries became schoolhouses, pulpits became lecterns, and faith became fuel for educational progress. What began as spiritual refuge quickly expanded into intellectual refuge, creating the first sustained system of Black education in the region.
Brush Arbors, Praise Houses, and Makeshift Classrooms
Before schoolhouses stood along country roads, there were brush arbors, simple structures of limbs, longleaf pine branches, and faith, built by hand. Praise houses and frame churches served as classrooms during the week and sanctuaries on Sunday.
Here, in these humble spaces:
children and adults learned side-by-side,
scripture doubled as the first reading text,
and the ability to read became intertwined with spiritual identity and civic empowerment.
Teachers were often those who could read the Bible, a pastor, a literate congregant, or a missionary passing through. In rural communities stretching from Aberdeen to Raeford to the deep pine regions of Cumberland and Richmond Counties, learning happened wherever a congregation could gather safely.
Pastors as Educators, Organizers, and Activists
In many Sandhills communities, the pastor was not only the spiritual shepherd but the educational architect. The pulpit became a platform for literacy as much as for worship.
Pastors:
taught classes,
traveled to neighboring towns to recruit teachers,
organized meetings to raise money for books and supplies,
and advocated before Freedmen’s Bureau agents and local officials on behalf of their schools.
They understood that literacy was more than education, it was protection, dignity, and a pathway to self-sufficiency in a world still hostile to Black advancement.
The Church as the First “School Board”
Long before state-supported Black schools emerged, churches functioned as the first educational governing bodies. Congregations decided:
where the school would be held,
who would teach,
how funds would be raised,
and how to maintain a safe learning environment.
Women’s groups, missionary circles, and mothers’ boards were instrumental in this work. They baked, sold, organized, and gave sacrificially so that children could learn. Across rural congregations throughout the Sandhills, church members cleared land, cut timber, and built early school structures with their own hands.
Denominational Leadership and Local Action
Beyond local initiative, entire denominations mobilized to support Black education. As reported in The Educator newspaper, a powerful example came from the General Conference of the A.M.E. Zion Church held in Charlotte in June 1872, where the Connection formally committed itself to founding schools for Black children across North Carolina and specifically in Fayetteville. This denomination-wide charge set a clear, organized direction during Reconstruction.
Their efforts reflected a broader regional movement: Black congregations stepping forward, coordinated and purposeful, to build educational opportunity where none had existed.
Local churches in the Sandhills, inspired by these denominational directives, ensured that education remained spiritually grounded, community-centered, and aligned with the practical needs of newly freed families.
Sunday School as the First Literacy Program
Sunday School, originally created for scripture study, became the earliest structured literacy program for many Black communities. With limited access to textbooks, the Bible became the foundational reader.
Across the Sandhills:
adults learned to read in Sunday School for the first time,
children practiced letters and penmanship on scraps of paper,
and spiritual lessons merged with reading skills, moral formation, and civic literacy.
For communities long denied education, Sunday School was a revolutionary act, a doorway into understanding, self-expression, and participation in society.
Legacy: From Sanctuaries to Schoolhouses
The seeds planted in these early church classrooms grew into some of the first formal Black schools across the Sandhills. The A.M.E. Zion Church’s 1872 educational mandate, echoed in local action such as the 1875 Fayetteville initiative, demonstrates how congregations led the way in transforming worship spaces into structured centers of learning.
By the early 20th century, these same churches helped establish community schools, teacher training programs, and ultimately partnered in the creation of Rosenwald Schools, many of which still stand as testaments to faith-driven determination. The church provided more than a building; it provided the vision, strategy, and resolve to build educational systems where none existed.
Closing Reflection
From brush arbors to sanctuaries, from denominational mandates to local schoolhouses, the church stood at the center of Black educational advancement. When newly freed communities needed hope, structure, and opportunity, congregations answered with courage and conviction. In these sacred spaces, generations discovered that knowledge strengthens faith, anchors identity, and opens the door to the future.
Teaser for Echo 3 — “From Church Schools to Community Schools: Building a System of Black Education”
In Echo 3, we’ll follow the journey from church-based classrooms to the rise of community-built and community-led schools across the Sandhills. We’ll explore the development of early schoolhouses, the emergence of Black educators, and the partnerships, sacrifices, and local triumphs that shaped education into the 20th century.
Wishing you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving.