I wrote this entry in 2013 when I was living in Ithaca, NY. I am re-sharing it because it’s a good representation of how I feel still.
I know who this woman is and what she is feeling. I know as if I were alive in her time, standing next to her, watching the slave ship arrive to take more of her loved ones away. I was there in my mind. In some sort of time-lapsing possibility, I was there. Maybe I […]the scars of slavery — Gabriela LeBaron