I visited one of the original plantation homesteads in the deep South, USA, and I distinctly remember walking around the slaves’ quarters shaking my head in horror. How could people sleep in a home filled with such wealth knowing that their slaves were so close by in complete despair?
I look at these slave owners somewhat differently now. I once questioned “would I have been so heartless and cruel if I had grown up in this culture?” I am now confronted as I realize I am actually worse.
Slave owners had to look at their slaves in the eye. They had to actually pay for their bedding, quarters and food. I on the other hand do not. I merely buy a product and put it in my cupboard. I don’t have to look at the poor woman in the eye who has been paid a meager amount for her 14 hour day. I don’t have to pay for a child’s board and I don’t have to worry about ensuring my slaves stay healthy for productivity. No, I am far worse. I take responsibility for nothing.
I now see my time of living in the South and the racism that I witnessed in a different light. I can no longer be self-righteous and reassure myself that “I am not like them.” I am no different when I continue to pay my workers (the people making my clothing) unfairly. I am then no different from every slave owner. It is time for me to take responsibility.
Your-sadly-realized, Keshena
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