Thursday, September 27, 2012
My Personal History / Walter Williams
On
a hot October day while driving on a road to Memphis Tennessee to visit
my father for his birthday, the year was 2011; during my drive I came
across a field of cotton where something in me compelled me to stop, I
walk from my car slowly but with determination, my destination was the
cotton field. While walking through the cotton field, I bent over to
pull the cotton from the stalk, the sun laid heavy on my head and the
sweat rolled down my face almost instantly, I felt the raw unprocessed
cotton in my hands, the cotton pricked my hands and my mind took me to a
place unfamiliar to my natural life; this soon became very familiar to
me in the stories told to me by my grandfather. Memories of a life not
lead by me, but told to me by my ancestors, of a life traveled by my
relatives who actually lived in the past where things were just terrible
for black people. People who had the strength and courage to endure a
life not fit for man, but a life that granted me the life that I have
now. Had it not been for the
struggles in the cotton fields of my past African American people, where
would I have been, it’s not one man that makes me, but many men and
women that traveled that hard road without reassurance or knowledge of
where this road will take them or when this hatred will end, that said;
maybe it will be better for the people that will follow me later in this
life. It’s not just the cotton that was picked, it was also the
struggle that my people went through in the fields just too survive,
which lead me to the road I’m on today …and I’m grateful to my
ancestors…and to all those people known and unknown that fought for me
and other African American people to have a better future and life. In
the cotton fields, myself, on that particular day, gave me a since of
the truth in the stories told to me by my relatives about how bad things
were for our people back in those times. I believe that I was lead to
this field as a reminder of the past by something higher than me to help
me realize that the things I have now are things that I’m not only
grateful for, but reminding me of how blessed that I am for not having
to go through those times and for the things that I now have access to.
Even though my struggle is not as bad as my past ancestors, I can still
see by the things that I’ve went through in my past, and how much times
has not changed, I know I’m still looked at as a second hand citizen.
This cotton that I brought to class is something I keep nearby as a
constant reminder of the struggles in my life today and the struggles of
black people as a whole. My life has not been easy by no means, it has
been full of all types of racial setbacks, from white people beating me
with no police help when this is being done to me by a white man, to
firing me from their employment for no reason other than the fact that I
am a black man who continues to fight for what I believe in. I’m a
strong believer in God and what religion really means and stands for, as
I deal with the struggles in my life today handed to me feels like I am
truly a child of God. The cotton is the artifact that I use as a
reminder of my history and all the things I’m going through even today.
My history is wrapped around love
and happiness, and the belief that things will be better for me in the
future, either here on earth or in heaven where I believe is my final
destination.
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