My ancestors were slaves. And my life as a young woman was a mess.
Was my life a mess because my ancestors were slaves? I don’t think so.
My life was a mess because I lived a wanton, irresponsible existence, defined by promiscuity, petty crimes, and scamming the nation’s well-meaning but totally confused welfare system to the greatest extent of my ability.
Did I need reparations to turn things around for me? Certainly not. I needed a wake-up call, which, to my great gratitude, I got from a few church-going black Christians who told me the way I was living was unacceptable.
I went to church, took back responsibility for my life, and turned my circumstances around.
If there was any justice, only descendants of slaveholders would be taxed to pay reparations. "But that's not fair! I didn't ever hold slaves, and I do not have any of that unearned wealth." Americans can go from blue collar to blue collar inn three generations. And from mint juleps to Budweiser in a lot less than that? So why are all white people today obligated to pay all black people today for evil committed against some of their ancestors? There were free blacks in 17th century America and even one black legislator, Matthias da Souza, in the Maryland colonial legislature. I look forward to demands for reparations from Britain, which became wealthy from the slave trade, and did not fight a devastating Civil War over the issue.
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