Earlier this week I was having a little talk with my roommate. We were telling each other how our first week had gone, and ranting about the amount of exhaustion we were already exhibiting this early into the semester. I told her about my Psychology professor who I expect to be one of the best teachers I'll have.
She told me about her history teacher who she had also enjoyed immensely. As we chatted further about prospective lesson plans, she told me her professor had assigned a book entitled “Slavery By Another Name” by Douglas Blackmon. After explaining some of what it was about, I did a little research for myself.
The book is set in a time period after the civil war but before World War II. It details how even though the emancipation proclamation was enacted post war there were still ways that law enforcement personnel used their power to influence the re-enslavement of many African Americans.
I read reviews that claimed the officers and officials did not specifically target African Americans, but “they simply were a part of the majority of people caught.” However, they did target individuals who were too poor to pay fines for petty crimes and for the fee of being arrested. People with little to no education not allowing them the courtesy of fully understanding their situation.
People predominantly with this description: African Americans.
It became a cycle. Slavery, Freedom, Debt, Slavery. My people were consistently rail blocked at every turn until the only means to maintain was to conform. The only way to be “above poverty” was to work for nothing in exchange for a cot and a warm meal. This mindset and ideals implanted have been carried on into or society presently. When I look around and see the destruction rampaging our lives, I can see every tear my ancestors cried and every callused heart through the eyes of my black brothers and sisters. In every wrinkle (the few we have), I see the struggle of a hard life and the determination to make the most of it. Even with police officers gunning us down out of “fear for their lives”, we haven't broke because to us this is just another form of slavery.
This is our example of “it's been a long day”. Even with our own being celebrated as Olympic champions in multiple events, we haven't accepted this as our destination. Even with the inauguration of a president that reflects US, we still know there's so much more to come. And if there's one thing anyone can agree is true, it's that, the farther you're forced down the more significant it'll be when you rise.
So however you look at history, the reality, our reality, is that everything we've spent decades fighting against will always be apparent in one form or another. And that's okay. Because no one, not a “Massa”, not a cop, not even a Trump can take away the resilience we have. I AM proud of my melanin. I AM proud of my people. I AM proud to be American as well as African American. And if given the choice between my life and a more privileged, I'd choose mine with all the bumps and dead ends that come with it. Because no other can make me as strong, as wise, or as brave to tackle the unimaginable. To reach for the unobtainable. To be beyond incredible simply because I know no matter what form slavery is concocted, not only do we survive but we grow.
Signed,
A Black Woman A Woman Proud to be Black
