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scherzo 's review for:
The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman
by Ernest J. Gaines
Wrenched my heart over and over.
Still thinking about this:
First time I realized that slavery meant not having pockets. Not owning anything meant not owning even the littlest thing a child could pick up and carry around in a pocket.
Still thinking about this:
Then I found the flint and iron Big Laura had used to light the fire with. Both of them looked like pieces of rock, so anytime anybody asked me what they was I just told them, "Two little rocks." I gived them to Ned and told him it was go'n be his job to see that they got to Ohio same time we did. After I had covered up Big Laura and the child with some clothes, I put the buncle on my head and we started out. Every now and then I asked Ned if he was tired. If he said no, we went on; if he said yes, we found a good place to sit down. Then I would take something out the bundle for us to eat. Ned would put the rocks on the gound while we ate. But soon as he was through eating he'd pick them up again.
First time I realized that slavery meant not having pockets. Not owning anything meant not owning even the littlest thing a child could pick up and carry around in a pocket.