The transpired bodies transport the cotton to the house of the landlords where they will be plagued by hunger and corrupted by the misfortune and lack of humanity. The white of the fibers is stained by blood gushing from the tired flesh and destroyed by slave labor. The struggle for life is daily as is the disrespect for human rights.
It is in this scenario that my ancestors were beaten, raped and killed. The wounds of Slavery are open in my human dimension, and the hot blood from which they flow is evidence of someone who is attacked by their past. (My God: Baptize me, renew in me the promise of a free and generous life – blessed!).
Education is the forgiveness that all blacks need, but often proves insufficient when they kiss us in the mouth and spit us into an opening that is silenced by pain. I still cry all the lashes I took and whipped my body. May Education be the balm of all wounds. It’s all in You!
CARTER B. REY