"I was the only African American male in my high school class," he says. In 1967, Steward was part of a small group of black students who integrated Clinton's public swimming pool. But his parents taught their children to forgive, be self-reliant, and take control of their own destinies. Local rules at the time prohibited his family from eating at white-only restaurants, sitting with whites at the local theater, and using public pools. When Steward started first grade, he was the first person of color to attend Clinton's newly integrated elementary school. Having two parents who understood their roles and their responsibilities, and then watching them work together to provide for their family, made them the best teachers in the world." He and my mother were caring and committed to the next generation. He was a master mechanic and should have been able to make good money working at the nearby power company, but they weren't hiring people of color. We probably would have qualified for welfare, but my father was proud, and he did what he had to do to support his wife and children. "He was an entrepreneur out of necessity. "My father was the first entrepreneur I ever knew," says Steward. Occasionally, he worked as a night watchman or guard, and also tended bar at parties. Steward's father was a personal mechanic he also ran a janitorial service and hauled trash and coal with his truck. "But it was just the way we grew up, and it was all just a part of our lives." Our chores seemed endless," says Steward. "My jobs included emptying the chamber pots, shaking down the ash in the potbelly stove and then spreading it on the driveway for traction, cleaning the barn, feeding the cows and pigs, milking the cow, and skimming the cream for the butter churn. All the children were responsible for the many daily chores required in such an environment. They raised cows and pigs, churned their butter, and grew vegetables. The Stewards lived in a small house that had no indoor plumbing or heating and was on the edge of town. Right after my birth, our family returned to Missouri." I was the fifth of their eight children, the last one born in the city. My grandfather did factory work in Chicago during World War II, which is when my parents met and married. "Her parents wanted her to finish her education, so they moved to Chicago. "When my mother was ready to start high school, the local high school in Clinton didn't allow black students," he says. David Steward was born in Chicago in 1951, but he was raised on a farm in his mother's hometown of Clinton, Missouri.
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