I love knowing I come from these honest, hardworking, loving, people who survived something people rarely speak about…traveled a journey I cannot fathom. I come from the people who did not leave the plantations when slavery ended.
They stayed on and worked for the plantation owners…worked their land, cleaned their homes, cooked their meals, and raised their children. They did not go north; they did not leave the South…they did not leave the plantation. Although they were free leave or goa and were being paid wages (my guess is that is where the term “slave wages” originated), the changes that came with freedom were not fully realized or recognized. They were my great-grandparents.
My great-grandparents would also raise their own children who could now go to the negro schools that were being built…some of whom as they got older would stay on the plantation and some of whom would leave. My grandparents were among those who would stay. They would stay continue to work for the plantations, marry and raise their children…their homes were on the plantation. My mother’s parents would leave the plantation while their children were fairly young and my grandfather who had little education would work labor jobs to support his family. Whereas my father’s parents did not leave until all of their children were adults and gone. My father’s and his siblings would later build my grandparents a small home and that is when they moved to town.
My parent’s families were on two separate plantations and their experiences with plantation life were drastically different…even their lives after leaving the plantation were drastically different. They would later meet at a movie theatre in town…my mother worked at the theater and my father was home on leave from the military.
The intricacies of all of their stories (a mix of love, joy and horror) are not for this piece, but the essence is simply that my people were not truly free for two generations.
My grandparents would leave plantations with their belongings, little savings, little education, and they survived. They survived poverty, they survived racism, they survived the plantations, they survived Jim Crow, and they survived the South.
My parents and all of their siblings who lived to adulthood would finish high school, and some would go to college, some would survive, some would thrive…some sadly, would not. They would become laborers, farmers, truck drivers, manufacturing workers, social workers, war heroes, nurses, teachers, builders, business owners, etc.
And all of their children would finish high school, and most would go to college. I went to college and my child went to college. We thrive professionally. My grandchildren will go to college and with the exception of the challenges of climate, threats on our democracy and lingering racism, their future looks bright.
All because these honest, hardworking, loving, Americans survived something people rarely speak about…and, some don’t even want people to read about.
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