Blog 2

This past week, I've been reading the novel Slave Moth. As far as I can recall, I haven't ever read a novel written in narrative verse like that, but it was a very interesting and intricate tale. The main character, Varl, possess so much voice, identity, and education, yet stays enslaved and fights a quiet battle for freedom. Throughout each chapter, Moss introduces new characters and new situations that make us as readers think about slavery maybe in a different light. Being an English major, I've been required to read several books/articles about slavery and slave issues to encompass the "multicultural" aspect of the course requirements or what have you. But, out of all of the books or articles that I've had to read, Slave Moth has been the best by far. Just with the way that it's written, it seems so personalized and genuine. I especially enjoyed the scene where Miss Lusa (the young white girl) asks Varl to cover her with mud so she can know what it's like to be black. Varl seemed persistant in telling Lusa that even though she would be covered with a mud skin, it would not at all help her to know what it is like to be black. Miss Lusa seemed so naive and ignorant to the facts of life- not that she should know a wealth of information being as young as she is, but it really made me think about something. People back then had absolutely no idea what it was like to be a slave. Not that we (white people) know anymore now than then, but sometimes just thinking about it makes me ashamed of our country allowing something that awful to happen. Obviously the views of black people that Miss Lusa had most likely derived from her parents- educated in a way that should have provided better ideals and views of humans as a whole, but apparently didn't. Although slavery has long since been prohibited and abolished through the Constitution, the effects made on the African American race are unending and still apparent. With this most recent election of President Obama, some of my shame felt for our country has faded. I believe that this is a milestone for out country and that having him as our leader hopefully will change people's views on ethnicity, race, and discrimination.

I also wanted to comment on the piece by Mark Mossman- The One-Legged Wonder and Other Names. When I was reading this piece, it reminded me of my childhood, especially in the opening paragraphs. I too was born with some physical differences (only three fingers on each hand and two toes on each foot) and I can identify with the author on the difficulties of growing up being different. The author's situation was a little more extreme and obviously a little more apparent, but being different is being different- there is no way to express the feelings of hurt, disappointment, and fear that are in your heart when you know that you are not, and will never be physically the same as everyone else you know. When I was younger, people would ask me questions like, "How do you write?" "Is it hard for you to do things like use scissors?" and the most infamous and ridiculous question I've ever heard, "Will you ever grow your other fingers back later?" (This question asked by an adult, not a child) I've become accustomed to answering these kinds of questions and dealing with the dulled pain of being different. Then, when my younger brother was born, he too had some physical differences- same feet as mine, however, he only has one finger on each hand. Bless his heart, he can do more than most his age- his "handicap" has not hindered him in any way, shape, or form and I am beyond proud of him. Throughout the article, Mossman mentions several times when he used his body and the "non-category" that he had been placed into as an identity and a definition of himself. Funny how we let other people around us put us into categories and groups just by how we look. Not that this is a new phenomena, but at the same time that the idea of slavery makes me ashamed of the choices made in our country at that time, I get a similar feeling of disappointment in people who continually try to place people in categories and limit them in their abilities because of physical differences. All of the labeling and joke making definitely wears on a person after awhile, and I can only be thankful to my parents for being excellent pillars of support and love to bring me to the place I am today and for building a strong internal character to persevere.