| The Fourth of July |
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| by Willie Gardner | |
| Tuesday, 03 July 2007 | |
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The year was 1776, and Mama, Big Mama and I lived on Massa Gilmoor’s plantation. I was around 10 and worked in the cotton fields from sun up to sundown, while Mama washed Massa Gilmoor’s clothes and Big Mama cooked in the big house. Well, it was while walking out of the field from picking cotton all day that I heard of a strange thing called Independence Day. While walking home with the others who worked the fields, I heard some elders say that Massa Gilmoor was throwing a party to celebrate Independence Day, and so as soon as I reached the cabin, I asked Big Mama about this strange celebration. Big Mama sat me down and said, “Child, a long time ago, Massa Gilmoor and the rest of the town’s white folks lived in a land full of other cruel whites, got on a boat and came here to be free.” And so I looked into Big Mama’s eyes and asked, “What does independence mean?” “Independence means being able to do for self and not being ruled by someone else,” she said. And before I could ask any more questions, Mama said, “It’s time to eat and go to bed.” The next morning when Big Mama went to work in the big house, I asked Mama, “Why the whites get independence and we don’t?” Before she could answer, our shack’s door flew open with Massa Gilmoor’s son, Massa Bush, standing in the doorway with a smile on his face pointing at me while saying, “Outside, Nigga Boy!” Mama patted my head and said, “It’s all right, child. Go outside now,” and shut the door hard. Outside waiting was Massa Bush’ cruel friend, Dick Cheney, smiling as usual and looking like the devil himself. As I stood there five minutes later, I heard Mama saying, “No, Massa, please!” Nothing more was heard from the cabin for another five minutes. Then out comes Massa Bush smiling as Massa Cheney held me so I couldn’t move. As Massa Bush was zipping up his pants, he told Massa Cheney to let me go, and as soon as he let me go, Massa Bush patted me on my head and said, “Happy Independence Day, Nigger.” When I walked into our shack, I seen Mama on the bed, fainted, and with blood all over her mid-part and legs. And so it was on the Fourth of July, 1776, that I learned of the white man’s independence. African Independence Day is Juneteenth, commemorating the day, on June 19, 1865, when enslaved Africans in Texas were finally told – over two and a half years after the Emancipation Proclamation – that they were free. Tell the writer what you think. Write to him: Willie Gardner, K-40030, P.O. Box 3471, 3C-05-114, Corcoran CA 93212. |
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