The world is shrinking together; it is finding itself neighbor to itself in strange, almost magic degree. - W. E. B. Du Bois

In a world where it means so much to take a man by the hand and sit beside him, to look frankly into his eyes and feel his heart beating with red blood; in a world where a social cigar or a cup of tea together means more than legislative halls and magazine articles and speeches, — one can imagine the consequences of the almost utter absence of such social amenities between estranged races, whose separation extends even to parks and streetcars.

All life long crying without avail, As the water all night long is crying to me.

To the real question, How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word.