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21st Century Slave Narrative

Timothy Conerson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright ©2013 Timothy Conerson

Born a Slave

I was born in 1971 to Dorothy Mae Head and Joe Evans. I was told about my father by my mother. He wanted to abort me and my mother agreed at first, but then she flinched. She did not have the courage of the women who would rather see their children dead than see them as slaves. I was born male, which made me public enemy number one to the plantation owners. This was also a time that saw the slave community starting to decline like never before. We still had commerce within the slave quarters, but almost everyone was taking some drug or drinking alcohol heavily. How I made it to the point where I can freely write you this narrative is an amazing feature of our universe. It seems as though justice is as much a scientific principle as it is a psychological one. I have come to learn through study and experience that all is mind so our psyches are the science of everything.

My Poor Mama

My mother was an old style slave. She cleaned people’s houses and raised their children while my sisters and I were raising ourselves and each other as best we could. Dorothy was her bosses’ girl and was loaned to other women to do what was called day’s work. The pay never covered our rent and food so we were homeless much of the time. Slave homelessness is a hard struggling for one simple fact, we were slaves and not seen as worthy of consistent housing. My mother would shuffle us from friend to friend until we wore out our welcomes. Eventually the city put us into a public housing building. These were the harsh slave quarters because it was where the city put us to get us out of the way and forget about us. We all felt like less than what we were and our parents felt awful for bringing us into a state of slavery. The depression took the fight out of us. We gave up on ourselves. We did not know that even dung can be rolled into something valuable. My mother died not knowing such things. She died poorer than she was born, leaving behind children that are battered adults because of slave life. This is why my mama is a pitiful character who has my deepest sympathies.

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