Red White and Black

Chapter Sixteen - Part B

Sadie

Sadie rose to her feet but Abbie spoke first. "Daddy, now you be nice. Sadie is here to talk about what happened this morning."

"I don't need another lecture, if that's what you got planned. Let me tell you, Abbie has lectured me long enough and I just don't need any more."

"Mr. Morris, please believe me when I am tellin' you I ain't here to lecture you. Not you or nobody. I ain't a person with education and I ain't got a drop of experience when it comes to lecturin'."

Sammy sat in his easy chair opposite her. "Okay, so what have we got to talk about?"

Sadie sat, perched on the edge of the sofa. She was nervous but her voice held steady. "I got a question for you." He said nothing so she proceeded. "Ain't the name 'Morris' an Irish name?"

"Yes it is," said Sammy with pride creeping into his voice.

"Hmm," mused Sadie. "Seems I saw a special on the TV not too long ago about how bad Irish immigrants was treated when they got off the boat. Did you see that? They was abused, cheated, overworked. Their children worked in factories almost like slave labor. Even years later, they suffered discrimination and people looked down on them."

"Yeah. Well I see where you're going with all this and it doesn't change a thing," said Sammy. "The difference is my people made an effort to fit in and get jobs and make something of themselves."

Careful Sadie, he's tryin' to get you riled! "Well, as I see it, that is about half right. Your people did fit in and get jobs, no question about that. But here's the thing, there ain't no way to tell just by lookin' at you who is Irish and who ain't. All of you's white and you can't tell who be Irish, Polish, French, or Russian. You's all white." She paused and took a deep breath before plunging on. "On the other hand, my people were hauled over here to this continent, they was put to the whip and the chain, then they was freed. And every time we made an effort to fit in and get a job and make something of ourselves, the color of our skin seems to get in the way. So the history of our people is kinda the same right up to the point where we tried the very thing your people tried. But you could blend in and we can't. So don't you see, we're tryin'. We've tried everything. But for some reason, there seems to be a hatred of black skin. We be like seven generations or so bein' free, and seven generations of tryin' the same things that got the Irish accepted, but we just can't stop havin' black skin. This color just ain't goin' away. This is the way God made us and he saw fit to make us, and we are His creatures just as much as all the white folk."

Sammy started to get all flustered and tried several times to speak, but nothing came out. Sadie figured to let him stew on all that for a few moments and turned to Abbie. "I think sometime you ought to come on over to our house and let me cook you a real dinner. Markus says you like home cookin' but ain't had any since you got here."

Before Abbie could reply, Sammy spoke up. "No. No way. I am not gonna let my daughter get involved in an interracial relationship. I'm not tryin' to be offensive here, but that's the way it is."

"Daddy! How can that be anything other than offensive? And besides that, I am old enough to make these kind of decisions for myself. And I will."

"Let me guess," said Sadie, "you worried that she gonna hook up with some shiftless, uneducated, bum with no prospects and only interested in seein' how fast he can get her pants off. Right?"