It seems like yesterday when I was working sun up to sun down in the Madison plantation. Whenever I look down at my weathered, ugly, and calloused hands, I am constantly reminded of my life as a slave. My name is Sarah, and I am 30 years old. I was born into slavery, and that was the only life I knew, until January 31st, 1865. Until that day, I was an object; a piece of property. Now I am a free woman. The 13th Amendment has abolished slavery.
My husband is out again today, looking for work. I don’t know if we can hold up so much longer. At first it was a dream come true, finally becoming free, but now, i don’t know so much anymore. It seems like every day, me, John, and our family are trying to get by. We aren’t living, we’re just trying our best to survive. The food pantry is running low, but that’s all we have for the next couple months, so I need to try my best to preserve everything and make the most out of it. It’s a good thing potatoes are cheap. You can do so much with potatoes that will trick your body into thinking that your stomach is full from a big meal. I’ve been adding water to mashed up potatoes for a long time now, trying to trick our bodies into thinking we are eating a hearty, filling potato soup. My young children smile and love this new “free” life, where they don’t have to worry about any whip or harsh overseer. And as my 5 year old, Charlie, puts it “ Momma doesn’t get hurt no more by the white men.” But they don’t know how much stress me and John are under, just trying to get our family by.
John’s been bouncing from job to job, but it is impossible for him to land a stable one. After the 13th amendment, I expected a shift in attitude, where white people would at least respect African Americans as humans now. But how I was wrong. These white people just resent us even more, and still view us as inferior beings, undeserving of their fair treatment and respect. John has been bouncing jobs as a farmer for several plantation owners, since that is the only thing he has been doing his whole life: harvesting crops. John’s sure hella good farmer, and strong, diligent, and knowledgeable, but the white men just don’t see that. All they see is his black skin. And that’s what’s most important to them. The minute a poor white man comes hobbling down to the plantation, they replace John immediately with the white man. The man may be lazy and stupid, but he’s white. That’s the most important thing for the white people.
The only thing that keeps me going nowadays is Charlie and my daughter, Amy’s smiles. They love this new free life they have been given, and tell me everyday how easygoing and wonderful their life have become. “The white boy son don’t bully me no more” or “i finally get to see you all the time momma.” But at least when we were a slave, we were certain about our future. If we worked hard and avoided the white men, we were guaranteed a tomorrow. We were guaranteed a bed, clothes, and food. This free life sure been fun for a while. But it sure ain’t fun when you realize that you might not even have another tomorrow.
My husband is out again today, looking for work. I don’t know if we can hold up so much longer. At first it was a dream come true, finally becoming free, but now, i don’t know so much anymore. It seems like every day, me, John, and our family are trying to get by. We aren’t living, we’re just trying our best to survive. The food pantry is running low, but that’s all we have for the next couple months, so I need to try my best to preserve everything and make the most out of it. It’s a good thing potatoes are cheap. You can do so much with potatoes that will trick your body into thinking that your stomach is full from a big meal. I’ve been adding water to mashed up potatoes for a long time now, trying to trick our bodies into thinking we are eating a hearty, filling potato soup. My young children smile and love this new “free” life, where they don’t have to worry about any whip or harsh overseer. And as my 5 year old, Charlie, puts it “ Momma doesn’t get hurt no more by the white men.” But they don’t know how much stress me and John are under, just trying to get our family by.
John’s been bouncing from job to job, but it is impossible for him to land a stable one. After the 13th amendment, I expected a shift in attitude, where white people would at least respect African Americans as humans now. But how I was wrong. These white people just resent us even more, and still view us as inferior beings, undeserving of their fair treatment and respect. John has been bouncing jobs as a farmer for several plantation owners, since that is the only thing he has been doing his whole life: harvesting crops. John’s sure hella good farmer, and strong, diligent, and knowledgeable, but the white men just don’t see that. All they see is his black skin. And that’s what’s most important to them. The minute a poor white man comes hobbling down to the plantation, they replace John immediately with the white man. The man may be lazy and stupid, but he’s white. That’s the most important thing for the white people.
The only thing that keeps me going nowadays is Charlie and my daughter, Amy’s smiles. They love this new free life they have been given, and tell me everyday how easygoing and wonderful their life have become. “The white boy son don’t bully me no more” or “i finally get to see you all the time momma.” But at least when we were a slave, we were certain about our future. If we worked hard and avoided the white men, we were guaranteed a tomorrow. We were guaranteed a bed, clothes, and food. This free life sure been fun for a while. But it sure ain’t fun when you realize that you might not even have another tomorrow.