Personal Narrative: A Life Of A Slave

I dreaded the day someone asked me that question. My great grandchild, Thomas, sat down next to me and asked, “Grammy, how did slaves live?” I knew it would come eventually, but I did not expect it to happen today. What could I possibly tell them? I could not just come right out saying, “Well, children, my mother worked all day from sunrise to sunset. Then at night, she worked even more to clothe us so we would no longer have to work in the rags provided for us, courtesy of our owner (“The Life of a Slave” 1). Hearing what went on in the world before they were born would take away not only their joy, but their innocence. I also could not tell them I worked the yearly cycle of tobacco. It does not sound like a dreadful job when I say it that way, but if they asked questions, my honest answers would make them sick to their stomachs (Lucander 2). The details of the times I was conscious enough to remember what had happened made me weep as …show more content…
I try to take myself back to my life as a slave. I have such a hard time going back in my mind to such an awful time of pain, dejection, and heartbreak. Sitting on the dirt floor of our stick house, crying out for my father to come back. To see his face once more, to feel the warmth he covered me in with a hug. Feeling the pain of the whip cracked against your back pales in comparison to when your prick of a master sells your family away from you, and you never have a chance of seeing them again (“The Life of a Slave” 1). The pain of that situation never ends. Not only do you know they are alone and will never sit with you again, laugh with you again, and cry with you again, you also think of how they will struggle at their new plantation as a forced migrant, not accustomed to the plantation labor that awaited them (Lucander 2). I need to think this through. What should I say to them? When they get older, I will tell the entire truth. But now, at such a young age, I cannot break their