Jim Crow:My Story

Desire Ramos Literacy Ms. Bentley
Class 702 2/10/09

The Jim Crow Laws

Stupid laws. Hi! I’m Jimmy Mason. Today is May 9th, 1953. I’m seventeen years old. Growing up as an African American is pretty hard. It’s hard going to school. It’s hard avoiding racial comments. My life is a living hell.
A few years back in 1943, my dad came home from work. Blood was pouring out of his mouth. His face was covered with lumps and scratches all over. At work, he got beat badly. Then he got fired! My mom’s cleaned him up. And just as we settled down, we heard a crack. Someone threw something through the window. It was a bag on fire. I instantly took it out. My dad was furious. He couldn’t take it. He was outraged. He ran out the house and attacked the man across the street. It was his ex-boss. But little did he know, there was more people there. They all jumped him. Three men picked him up. The entire group lynched him to a tree. Tears ran down my cheeks. There goes my dad. Mama took me to the escape route hidden in the basement. While we were running down the tunnel, our house was getting burned down. We smelled the smoke.
My mom and I moved to another side of Texas. We moved with Auntie Ellen. Life was good, for a while. In 1949, around midnight, people broke in. Mama was sleeping on the couch so Auntie and I both knew it was too late. We climbed out the window but watched just in case. I saw it all. They covered her mouth with a sock. They stripped her naked. They raped her. Then they beat her. She was lucky when they let her live, but they weren’t done yet. The cops came and took her away. Soon, word got around that they killed her and disposed her body in the lake.
Now, Auntie and I live in Alpaca, Texas. We are saving our money to move away. We don’t know where, but we are moving far, far away. I went from school to school. It was all segregated. Getting the education was like trying to survive 60,000 bullets. It was hard. We didn’t have textbooks. We didn’t have anything. The only thing every segregated school had was old, dirty, rusty, broken down, bathrooms. I’m scared to get a job. After seeing what can happen, I have no idea what they might do now. Running home from school was also rough. All you would hear is, “what are you doing hear n*****.” I just can’t wait until all of this is over. This is the life of an African American growing up through this segregation. It’s time for someone to take a stand.