Each breath feels like it could be my last. Hour after hour I continue to dive under the ice cold water to fetch oysters for the spaniards so they can have pearls. For minutes at a time I am underwater holding my breath while I rip the oysters out of their rocky beds and placing them in a netted bag. Once I can’t hold my breath any longer I return to the surface where my owner is waiting for me. If I even show a little bit of weakness he will torture me by hitting me and ripping my hair from my head. When he is done torturing me I continue to dive underwater to get more oysters.
Before it gets dark we return to the land where he chains me up with all the other pearl divers. Every night I watch the sun leave us which causes darkness to consume the Earth. I can’t see anything, but I hear the crickets chirping and the sound of chains moving across the ground every time one of us moves. Right before we fall asleep every night my close friend Haiti asks me the same question, “Bohio, will we ever be reunited with our tribe?” I always answer with “ Yes Haiti, someday.”
Finally I fall asleep, and once my eyes shut I begin to dream about the day that i was parted from my family. It’s not really a dream but more like a nightmare. It always begins with a faint smell of smoke and the sound of my tribe screaming. Then i can hear the sounds of the spaniards boots stomping on the ground and I can see them separating the women and children from the men. We all try to run but there are
This was a reward to James because he never had the opportunity to be with his mother alone since she always occupied with something.
Narratives about captivity have often intrigued readers in Western culture. Mary Rowlandson and Olaudah Equiano’s stories helped pave the way for stereotypes within both European and white culture; teaching Europeans to see Native Americans as cruel and allowing whites to see the evil in the American slave market. In both “A Narrative of the Captivity” and “The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano,” Mary Rowlandson and Olaudah Equiano share their individual stories of being kidnapped and enslaved. Though the two narrators share similarities in their personal accounts of being held captive, either individual’s reaction sheds light on the true purpose of both Rowlandson and Equiano’s writing.
It was 1719 when they captured me, Nella Barns, a 12-year-old girl. My story began on a normal day when out of nowhere random men violently tackled me down to the floor and covered me with a big, brown, itchy net. In addition to getting covered I’m was immediately thrown onto the floor and slashed out of the net.From there I was pushed into a line where men started chaining my feet and wrists. Tears instantly ran down my face as my soul faded away, help me, just someone help me.
At three am in the morning men came into our house. They told us, we had to do as they said. My father and oldest brother refused to abide by these rules and tried to stop these men. Thus, my father and eldest brother were shot and killed. My mother, sister, and I were made to get in the back of a truck while, my other brother was loaded into another. These men had power and control over us and there was nothing we could do to change that without being killed. I would never see my father, or two brothers again after that night. Thus, my mother, sister, and I were sent to a concentration
When you hear the words 1960’s what do you think of? Most people will say Black power, Vietnam war, The Beatles or even the assassination of John F. Kennedy. To many people this is a time period that will change America for many years to come but for some people like James McBride it was something that he kept in the back of his mind and wasn’t important at that time for the most part. Instead in the 1960’s the only thing that ran through his mind was his family and by family I mean his eleven brothers and sisters and most importantly his mother Ruth McBride Jordan, when family is everything all that we got, finding past history and trying to get answers to unsolved questions is something that is quite difficult for most of us but for
I never seen my dad or my mom. Somebody told me my mom died to protect me. The master killed her. My dad was sold. I want a family like masters. But master says I is property. I have no freedom. I can’t leave. I can’t see my friends. I am in the fields and they are in the big house. I snuck into the big house once to see them. Master found me. He tied me up and beat me within an inch of my life. He made me go back to work all day and night. I picked cotton until I passed out. When I woke up I was in a wagon and I didn’t know where I was going. I was in heavy shackles. It was hot. I didn’t know what was happening. Now I have a new master. I am at a new big house. I don’t go inside there either. I pick cotton all day. I want to leave and be a free man so that I can do what I want when I
From silent short films of the 19th century to full length films of the 1920s, women have played important central roles over time. Women have transitioned from submissive conservative roles to liberal something. A big part of this is due to the view of women changing in history.
Transition into 3 main points which are: Water helps to produce nourishment and protection to major organs through the removal of waste from the body, and also helps to regulates the body’s temperature. Also, to make sure that we are consuming an efficient amount of water a day, health professionals provide several tips to keep people on track with staying hydrated.
The Color of Water by James McBride was a story about a young boy trying to figure out his racial identity but his mother would not talk about her past or what race she was. All James knew was that she was white living in a black power neighborhood and that fact terrified him. He thought that to grow up he had to know his racial identity but through all the trouble and hard times he went through he learned that his race did not matter. It was his education that was the most important. Ruth attitude about her race effected James through his childhood and as a young adult, she negatively affected his racial development, and Ruth eventually clears up his questions that he has been
This paper discovers the water budget for Berkeley, California in comparison to Terre Haute, Indiana. The two cities precipitation differs throughout the twelve month calendar year where many of the heavy precipitation months are totally opposite. Berkeley California’s winters, where the majority of rain occurs and Terre Haute, Indiana where the rainfall is observed as consistently disseminated throughout the year evenly. This paper will also magnify geographic position, climate and elevation in contrast of the two cities that reflects the water budget outlined in Project 1: Water Balance defined in
“Drinking water is like washing out your insides. The water will cleanse the system, fill you up, decrease your caloric load and improve the function of all your tissues.” – Kevin R. Stone --
Water is essential for life as we know it on earth. It is used by plants
* Who are the main Stakeholders of beverage companies such as Coca cola and nestle in this case? How would you prioritize their stake and how legitimate are the different stakes?
Water is a human right, not a commodity. It is the essence of life, sustaining every living being on the planet. Without it we would have no plants, no animals, no people. However, while water consumption doubles every twenty years our water sources are being depleted, polluted and exploited by multinational corporations. Water privatization has been promoted by corporations and international lending institutions as the solution to the global water crises but the only one’s who benefit from water privatization are investors and international banks. The essential dilemma of privatization is that the profit interests of private water utilities ultimately jeopardizes the safeguarding of the human right to water. Access to clean, sufficient
As I sat next to the loud river that was bursting out of the Sylvan Dam, I noticed the water was in an invariable battle with the rocks, crashing and thrashing against each other like medieval warriors scraping for land. I looked around the edges of the river to see the copiousness of colors from the trees contrasting the sinister blue water. The rapids put off a pleasant and dulcet sound that ultimately ended in me having to relieve some building pressure down the trail. After returning to my riverside view, I noticed that farther down the gleaming river, fish were jumping and flipping like delicious pancakes on a griddle. Making the split-second decision to fish, I sprinted to my 1999 black Chevy Silverado, unlatched the tailgate and snatched all of my waterproof fishing gear. Slipping on my Mossberg max 4 Camo Gander Mountain guided series waders is no easy chore. While looking like the most incapable human being ever I finally managed to slip on the foul scum smelling waders that I so dearly should have washed. Feeling like a professional mountain climber, I started scaling the steep inclement of the river bank. Stomping my insulated waders into the frigid dour murky water, I ventured my path out onto a construction of rocks forming a beautiful approach for spotting fish. I released my light green jointed shad Rapala from my St. Croix Legend Elite spinning rod and casted the shad into pooling backwater just off of my rocky approachment. Feeling the vibration of the shad through my rod, smacking against slime covered rocks and ripping through dense weedy areas. I felt aspirant to not get hung up on a rock resulting in a line break, I successfully retrieved my lure. After casting and reeling my line several times and just started zoning out, I was abruptly startled to hear a ruckus coming from the west side embankment. Glancing quickly back to the water to see where my lure was only to hear a loud splash coming from the same place where I first noticed the ruckus. Three deer, with golden brown fur coated enrolled into the water. Realizing that the leaders of the small herd were both doe’s and a younger buck eagerly followed. The buck had a nice six-point rack, with long tines and a wide spread. He kept his