I don't know why this came to my mind the other day. Random not prompted by anything in particular that I can remember.

But I realized that there are people who died slaves.

Now that must seem like so silly or like really Sabrina? You didn't realize that?? I think what's getting me about that is every situation or hardship I've faced in my personal life... there was a solution on the other end. There was near end to whatever trouble I was facing. There wasn't always a way out but a way through.

But there were Africans who were born and died in slavery. They were property before they were people. Like there whole entire life all they knew was this... being owned and abused. This is was their reality. Thousands upon thousands of human being sold into an enterprise of a race who wanted cheap labor. They were wealth, and economic goldmine a calculated expense.

It grieves my soul that deep within America's soil, reeks of lynched flesh, tears and captivity. It irks me that people who looked like me were dealt the worse cards just based on their skin tone. It aggravates me that there was no happy end to their story. & it saddens me that ALL they had was faith to live off of.

But I guess there was a happy end, they lived in peril so I don't have to. The obstacles I face are NOWHERE compared to what they endured. The pain I feel couldn't even scratch the surface of what they have survived. So I guess I am the hope of the future.

Me living with some freedoms and liberties was what the cotton field songs were about. I am the answered prayer. I am the free slave.

I won't pretend or disregard the years of growth within this nation but I refuse to accept that this is where it ends. Hatred, injustice, and inequality don't stop with laws but start within the heart. I don't want my kids to experience any prejudices I've endured and I pray that we live in an America where history can just be a teacher and not a repeater.