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How It Feels To Be Colored Me By Zora Neale Hurston

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How It Feels to Be Colored Me Author & Background Information: Zora Neale Hurston was an African-American folklorist, novelist and anthropologist. She was born in 1891 and lived in the first all-black town in the United States, Eatonville, Florida. Her 1937 novel, Their Eyes Were Watching God and played a vital role in the literacy movement the Harlem Renaissance is what she is best known for. Zora Neale Hurston depicts racism in her writings and has contributed greatly to African-American literature. Her work became more popular posthumously. Summary: Zora Neale Hurston How It Feels to Be Colored Me is an autobiographical short story wrote in 1926. She takes us back to her childhood youth a time period when racism was prevalent. She …show more content…

2, pp. 358). When people reminded her that she is the granddaughter of slaves, it doesn’t sadden her. She acknowledges that slavery is a part of the past and “slavery is the price I paid for civilization” (Hurston, vol. 2, pp. 359). Zora now saw herself differently amongst a sea of white peoples; prior to now she was unaware of any differences. However, even feeling colored she finds herself; the negative doesn’t define her. She doesn’t see the difference she just sees the contrast of color. She notices a contract while at a jazz club with a white male nearby. She becomes consumed by the music from the band and in her head she is in the South African jungle doing a deer dance hunting for prey. The orchestra finishes the song and the white male sitting near only acknowledges it was good music. The song hadn’t touched him like it had her. He only heard the song that she could feel in her bones and that is when she notices the contrast between them. “He is so pale with his whiteness then and I am so colored” (Hurston, vol.2, pp. 359). At time she states she feels that she simple doesn’t have a race and is merely herself. “I have no separate feeling about being an American citizen and colored” (Hurston, vol. 2, pp. 360). At the end of the short story she uses a metaphor: “I feel like a brown bag of miscellany propped against a wall. Against a wall in company with other bags, white, red and yellow. Pour out the contents, and there is discovered a jumble of

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