The Government of the Southern State of Florida has outlawed teaching about Slavery, Race being Black or Brown, and being Gay. I guess that either I or the Government has lost our mind. The Government wants you to think Slavery wasn’t so bad and talking about it will make White Folks feel bad, so lie about it . Say it wasn’t a bad thing and maybe we should do it again . I’m Black and I don’t think so.
I guess that talking or teaching about being Gay will make someone feel bad. I’m not Gay and I don’t know how that feels but , I read about young People committing suicide. Why? I was raised in a strict Pentacostal Church, but many of the Musicians and my customers were Gay, so I will leave the subject alone .
Getting back to Slavery , I was taught that it was a bad thing and we needed to rid ourselves of it as soon as possible . I read that Frederick Douglas said something like “those that appreciate Freedom but depreciate agitation , want the ocean without the roars of it’s mighty Waters , they want the Crop without the Tilling of the Soil.” Douglass famously also said , “ Power Concedes nothing without a Struggle , it never did and it never will.“
Slavery was an unfortunate Fact. If that makes White Folks or other folks feel bad, so be it . My Grandfather and his Heirs and offsprings lived through it. If anybody should feel bad about Slavery , Black Folks should . White Folks benefitted from Slavery and it’s four hundred years of free Labor. If you don’t believe there was Slavery, read Dr. Martin Luther King , Malcolm X , Harriet Tubman , Frederick Douglas , W. E. B. Dubois , Jeremiah Wright , Elijah Muhammad, and thousands of others. My thoughts today about Slavery are simply,send me a check for my share of Reparations . The Scriptures ask somewhere , didn’t my Lord Deliver Daniel ? well, deliver me my check. I‘ll take one bllion dollars per year of my Eighty years of my life, and payment for the loss of my Grand Father, theGrand Father who I never met who died of the Stress of being Black when my Father was merely eight years old , and my Father and Brother , both of whom died to soon in their sixties, my Mother who Stroked out , but gave me a series of booklets called “Unamit” written by her father , my Grandpaw Shaw , called telling the world what he suffered . I say, “Pay Me!”