Autobiography of Malcolm X

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to be weak, and while a man must at all times respect his woman, at the same time he needs to
understand that he must control her if he expects to get her respect.
But in those days I had my own personal reasons. I wouldn't have considered it possible for me to
love any woman. I'd had too much experience that womenwere only tricky, deceitful,
untrustworthy flesh. I had seen too many men ruined, or at least tied down, or in some other way
messed up by women. Women talked too much. To tell a woman not to talk too much was like
telling Jesse James not to carry a gun, or telling a hen not to cackle. Can you imagine Jesse
James without a gun, or a hen that didn't cackle? And for anyone in any kind of a leadership
position, such as I was, the worst thing in the world that he could have was the wrong woman.
Even Samson, the world's strongest man, was destroyed by the woman who slept in his arms.
She was the one whose words hurt him.
I mean, I'd had so much experience. I had talked to too many prostitutes and mistresses. They
knew more about a whole lot of husbands than the wives of those husbands did. The wives
always filled their husbands' ears so full of wife complaints that it wasn't the wives, it was the
prostitutes and mistresses who heard the husbands' innermost problems and secrets. They
thought of him, and comforted him, and that included listening to him, and so he would tell them
everything.
Anyway, it had been ten years since I thought anything about any mistress, I guess, and as a
minister now, I was thinking even less about getting any wife. And Mr. Muhammad himself
encouraged me to stay single.
Temple Seven sisters used to tell brothers, "You're just staying single because Brother Minister
Malcolm never looks at anybody." No, I didn't make it any secret to any of those sisters, how I felt.
And, yes, I did tell the brothers to be very, very careful.
This sister-well, in 1956, she joined Temple Seven. I just noticed her, not with the slightest
interest, you understand. For about the next year, I just noticed her. You know, she never would
have dreamed I was even thinking about her. In fact, probably you couldn't have convinced her I
even knew her name. It wasSister Betty X. She was tall, brown-skinned-darker than I was. And
she had brown eyes.
I knew she was a native of Detroit, and that she had been a student at Tuskegee Institute down in
Alabama-an education major. She was in New York at one of the big hospitals' school of nursing.
She lectured to the Muslim girls' and women's classes on hygiene and medical facts.
I ought to explain that each week night a different Muslim class, or event, is scheduled. Monday
night, every temple's Fruit of Islam trains. People think this is just military drill, judo, karate, things
like that-which is part of the F.O.I. training, but only one part. The F.O.I. spends a lot more time
in lectures and discussions on men learning to be men. They deal with the responsibilities of a
husband and father; what to expect of women; the rights of women which are not to be abrogated
by the husband; the importance of the father-male image in the strong household; current events;
why honesty, and chastity, are vital in a person, a home, a community, a nation, and a civilization;
why one should bathe at least once each twenty-four hours; business principles; and things of
that nature.
Then, Tuesday night in every Muslim temple is Unity Night, where the brothers and sisters enjoy
each other's conversational company and refreshments, such as cookies and sweet and sour fruit
punches. Wednesday nights, at eight P. M., is what is called
Student Enrollment, where Islam's basic issues are discussed; it is about the equivalent of
catechism class in the Catholic religion.
Thursday nights there are the M.G.T. (Muslim Girls' Training) and the G.C.C. (General Civilization
Class), where the women and girls of Islam are taught how to keep homes, how to rear children,
how to care for husbands, how tocook, sew, how to act at home and abroad, and other things that
are important to being a good Muslim sister and mother and wife.
Fridays are devoted to Civilization Night, when classes are held for brothers and sisters in the
area of the domestic relations, emphasizing how both husbands and wives must understand and
respect each other's true natures. Then Saturday night is for all Muslims a free night, when,
usually, they visit at each other's homes. And, of course, on Sundays, every Muslim temple holds

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