9/9/32ADM (97)

i watched her, mom, wash white folks toilets, feed their children, cook for them, serve them on holidays, while We sat at home w/out her eating baked beans and hot dogs. We, my brotha and i slept in a 3rd floor, rat-roach-infested apartment, sleeping side by side in the living room. Mom slept on a cot in the kitchen. Mama brought home white kids clothes and We wore hand-me-downs. Corns on our toes wearing shoes too small that the white folks didn't want. white teachers in our all Balck school taught us to hate Black. "Can't you get them hands any cleaner?" "Crack!" the sound of the ruler across Black knuckles. Crying our way home, Mrs. Bertha reassured us that We really are Beautiful!

Now, i am a mother and like Mrs. Bertha, i am imaculate and i demand cleanliness at all times. Fiercely devoted to my children, setting the example of regal dignity in my neighborhood and , when folk question me and my ways, i respond in the only response possible, "what you expect? After all, i AM Mrs. Bertha's Daughter!"

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