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This book sears the soul. I am reading it aloud to my children and at various points find myself choked up by the raw emotion it evokes. It is unfathomable that black slaves were treated with such a degree of disdain and hatred because of white colonists love of the almighty dollar. That whites would literally rip the strongest black man they owned into two after tarring and feathering him, tie his appendages to two separately facing horses, and whip the horses until they ran in opposite directions should make us all weep.
It takes a great deal of grace not to feel revulsion when I look at whites after reading such accounts of what their ancestors did, especially in light of the racially charged climate we live in today, with the hateful rhetoric being spewed from the Oval Office on a daily basis. I know better than to allow my heart to close and isolate myself from engaging with those who don’t look like me. I have friends who are white with good natures, but it seems there is always a point that just can’t be crossed because of a lack of understanding or maybe refusal to acknowledge this part of their history because it is entirely uncomfortable to confront the pain of another when you have no real solutions to assuage that pain.