The Mindset of Emile Lockery

September 18th, 1855

                  Now you can't tell nobody 'bout this diary ya hear? My mama, me, and everyone else will be flogged. I'd be as good as dead. But not before I'd be whipped with ribbons of crimson across my chocolate back, and with everyone watchin of course. You might think me weak; after all, I'm only 16 years of age, but I'm as mighty as an ox. I ain't gonna beg for mercy, no ma'am. I'll stand strong and true right up til the end. I just hope the grief don't destroy Mama.
       If ya couldn't tell by now, I'm what you call a slave to Master TomFord here in Alabama. It's not bad here considering what I've heard of in other places. My father died in some sort sorta accident and Mama (known as Rosalyn to others) refuses to speak about it. All I know is that he was a dreamer like me. She's a quiet woman with big beliefs and makes me get down on our dusty, wheat-brown, dirt floor rain or shine to pray. Mama also has a no-nonsense attitude and is the strongest woman I know. I work in my owners' home as a servant and maid. As my feet slowly kill me, my mind floats about, dreaming of leaving place with my best friend Sarah and our families. But where would we go? By law and standards we colored folk ain't allowed to hold jobs or property. I hope this all changes one day soon. 

Emile Lockery