My Love (Bwwm)

New Beginnings

Momma please don't say things like that, you know it gets me jittery" I exclaimed, packing my life away into three leather suitcases. Momma has been trying to make me stay home for the past two weeks ever since I told her about the job offer up north. Every day at breakfast she tells me a new story about a pretty black girl who was brutally raped and beaten. Just this morning she went on a tangin about a girl with the same name as me getting hanged by Klansmen because they found out she was mulatto. Even the ones that looked white weren't safe because down south a NEGROE is  NEGROE, and I understood that all was good and well. My mother never let me forget what happened to my daddy, he took a job offer in Alabama as cook for a white family. Apparently the youngest daughter lied and said my daddy touched her and well- you can imagine what happened!

But I'm going to Illinois, and there are opportunities there for black folks. They are not as close minded as they are down there, and what happened to my daddy will not happen to me. I called a number I saw on a post willing to accept colored help as a maid in a hotel. I was planning to save up for college and needed a job so I took it and I'm going.

"Baby those white people are going to use you until you're tired and then when they feel you have nothing left to give, they kill you. They kill you in front of they friends and they chirren and then go to church and eat Sunday dinner" my momma cried.

My momma was a small and passionate woman. She was significantly shorter than me so I know I must take after my daddy's height.  One thing I knew I got from her was my beautiful mahogany skin tone. My mothers lips were a bit smaller than mine but we shared most of the same sharp features. She had prominent cheekbones and the prettiest deep brown almond eyes, whose sparkle died along with my daddy.

"Momma, I know what I'm doing is scary, believe me! I have been thinking about my future for so many sleepless nights, and you almost had me this morning when you told me about that mulatto named Dorothy, but I can't stay here... i just can't" I said getting the last of my little bit of belongings.

"And why the hell not Thea, why you can't stay here with me huh?" she huffed as she unzipped the biggest suitcase that I already set aside by the doorway.

"Why would I stay here momma, what will I do? Marry a man twice my age who doesn't love me? Have to struggle while my children cry over whether they will get their next meal or not? Stay here in Louisiana and be called a nigger for trying to get groceries? I ranted until I felt my momma's palm connect with my face.

"So that's what you think of us black women- of me, huh? You think you're better than I am because you gonna get a job and go to school? You were always fed weren't you? Answer me, dammnit" she yelled across the hallway.

My momma was mad about what I said on loveless marriages. She loved my daddy but as a child I can see it wasn't reciprocated. However, I never thought she would get angry enough to hit me. She never hit me, EVER.

"Momma I'm going and you can't stop me. I love you deeply and this isn't how I wanted to leave you but you are not seeing the vision" and I left leaving that last unpacked suitcase as a keepsake for my mother, because deep down I knew that would be the last time I saw her in a long time.

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The train ride from Louisiana was Chicago hectic to say the least. I sat next to an old black lady who was quiet for the majority of the time, but didn't shy away from the basic formalities such as hi or casual small talk. I have never been on a train before. It was going so fast I thought I might explode.

Illinois wasn't  so different from Baton Rouge as I thought. The south, in some parts, was very underdeveloped at the time, but Springfield had roads that were very neat, so I expected everyone to have cars. I was so blinded by my "future" I forgot we were in a Nation Wide depression. The first car I saw on the road, I stuck my thumb out to signal them to pullover.