In the winter of 1900, the United States was only a year and a half removed from its successful attempt to oust Spain from the small but geographically and logistically important island of Cuba. The Spanish-American War was in many ways America’s first global war, as its imperial clashes with Spain played out not only in Cuba but also in Puerto Rico, the Philippines and Guam and marked the entry of the United States onto the world stage as a self-proclaimed defender of democracy.
The United States took military and administrative control over Cuba beginning Jan. 1, 1899, which lasted nearly three and a half years until Cuba’s official independence in May 1902.
For a host of reasons, the United States was invested in the island throwing off the yoke of Spain, but the U.S. government did not consider Cubans ready to govern themselves, and embarked on an ambitious series of programs and initiatives to prepare the island and its people not only to achieve full political and economic independence, but to enter the cohort of Western Hemisphere democracies with approaches to government and society that mirrored those of the United States. At the turn of the 20th century, many leaders in the United States saw public education as the single most powerful tool for creating a patriotic, informed citizenry. To that end, American educators and politicians believed that recreating the Cuban education system would better allow the emerging nation to unify its people and foster democratic engagement.
In February 1900, Harvard president Charles W. Eliot received a telegram from Alexis Everett Frye and Ernest Lee Conant proposing that a delegation of Cuban teachers be brought to Cambridge that summer to learn about the American educational system and way of life. Both men were New Englanders and graduates of Harvard Law School living and working in Cuba, and Frye was the superintendent of schools for the island under American oversight. Eliot eagerly agreed to their request, and preparations quickly began for the expedition.
Four ships landed at the Charlestown Navy Yard on July 4, 1900, and more than 1,200 teachers descended on Cambridge. Their number was so large that one of the teachers remarked that “Cambridge es Cuba chiquita” (“Cambridge is a tiny Cuba”).
For the next six weeks, the delegation studied the latest pedagogical methods in Harvard classrooms, but also traveled throughout the state and the region, meeting residents from all walks of life and exploring all that Cambridge and its environs had to offer before returning home in mid-August.
The teachers’ visit to Cambridge came at a key moment in which the United States and Cuba were rethinking their place on the world stage, and this exchange provides fascinating insights into not only the changes taking place in the Cuban educational and political system, but also America’s complex and sometimes contradictory relationship with colonialism, imperialism and race.
During the Spanish American War, American political and military leadership argued that it was the United States’ duty to protect emerging democracies such as Cuba from imperial control by European powers such as Spain and aid those nations in establishing systems that would ensure their success (i.e., that would mirror American values and priorities). In aiding Cuba, the United States was not merely acting benevolently: It was in America’s best interest to reproduce similar approaches to government and foreign relations in these newly independent countries, and Harvard’s administration saw no better way to begin than with the island’s school system.
Although the expedition was organized by and under the auspices of Harvard, the entire Cambridge community became involved in welcoming the teachers. Harvard students offered the use of their dorm rooms to male Cuban teachers; women students did not begin to live on campus at Radcliffe until 1901, but many took female teachers into the houses where they were boarding, and Cambridge families also opened their homes to teachers in a delegation nearly evenly split between men and women.
Especially because they were so numerous, the teachers’ arrival in the city caused quite a stir, and their every move was carefully detailed in the local newspapers. The Cambridge Tribune featured a weekly column called “Some Cuban Notes” recounting everything from the many concerts, outings, lectures, patriotic demonstrations and dinners given in their honor to descriptions of the fashion, mannerisms and religious and cultural practices of the visitors.
By the time the expedition ended, Cambridge and Boston residents had raised more than $70,000 in private donations for the group. (The Bureau of Labor Statistics’ consumer price index calculator goes back only as far as 1913, but $70,000 in that year is equivalent to $2.4 million now.) Perhaps most surprising was the way in which the teachers’ local hosts presented America’s “best self” to these visitors. The delegation was made up of just over 50 percent women, and included many Cubans of African descent. Although America was struggling in the post-Reconstruction, Jim Crow era with its own deep and long-standing racial divisions, including theories perpetuated by academics at Harvard and other academic institutions that questioned the intellectual and cultural capacities of nonwhites, the Cuban teachers were not segregated or treated differently based on their racial identity. The teachers also met with a number of progressive organizations during their time in Cambridge, including groups promoting women’s, workers’ and immigrants’ rights.
Perhaps because the Cubans were only temporary visitors, they were more readily accepted than they would have been had they stayed in Cambridge long term. Or perhaps Cantabrigians wanted to portray themselves according to a forward-thinking and egalitarian ideal of American progressive values. Whatever the motivation, Cantabrigians embraced the teachers heartily while they were here, and many kept up correspondences and even exchanged visits after the teachers returned home to Cuba. More than a century and a quarter later, the expedition remains the largest exchange program in the history of U.S.-Cuba relations, and one that had a profound and lasting impact on all who participated.
History Cambridge started in 1905 as the Cambridge Historical Society. Today we have a new name and a new mission. We engage with our city to explore how the past influences the present to shape a better future. We recognize that every person in our city knows something about Cambridge’s history, and their knowledge matters. We listen to our community and we live by the ideal that history belongs to everyone. Throughout 2026, we are focusing on the history of West Cambridge. Make history with us at historycambridge.org.
History Cambridge is a nonprofit organization. Our activities rely on your financial support. If you value articles like this one, give today.
