guitarbains
You think because he doesn’t love you that you are worthless. You think that because he doesn’t want you anymore that he is right — that his judgement and opinion of you are correct. If he throws you out, then you are garbage. You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Don’t. It’s a bad word, ‘belong.’ Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love shouldn’t be like that. Did you ever see the way the clouds love a mountain? They circle all around it; sometimes you can’t even see the mountain for the clouds. But you know what? You go up top and what do you see? His head. The clouds never cover the head. His head pokes through, beacuse the clouds let him; they don’t wrap him up. They let him keep his head up high, free, with nothing to hide him or bind him. You can’t own a human being. You can’t lose what you don’t own. Suppose you did own him. Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don’t, do you? And neither does he. You’re turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can’t value you more than you value yourself.
Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon (via guitarbains)
blackgirlsrpretty2
thecivilwarparlor:

 Harriet Ann Jacobs’ Incidents in the Life of a Slavegirl (1861)
 First Person Narratives of the American South collection
For seven years, Jacobs hid from her cruel master and mistress in a cramped attic until a chance to escape to the North presented itself. In the following passage, she describes her feelings upon learning that her freedom had been purchased by abolitionist benefactors in New York: 

"My brain reeled as I read these lines. A gentleman near me said, "It’s true; I have seen the bill of sale." "The bill of sale!" Those words struck me like a blow. So I was sold at last! A human being sold in the free city of New York! The bill of sale is on record, and future generations will learn from it that women were articles of traffic in New York, late in the nineteenth century of the Christian religion. It may hereafter prove a useful document to antiquaries, who are seeking to measure the progress of civilization in the United States. I well know the value of that bit of paper; but much as I love freedom, I do not like to look upon it. I am deeply grateful to the generous friend who procured it, but I despise the miscreant who demanded payment for what never rightfully belonged to him or his." 
Pages 300-01, Incidents in the Life of a Slavegirl
http://www.loc.gov/teachers/classroommaterials/connections/narratives-south/file.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harriet_Ann_Jacobs

thecivilwarparlor:

Harriet Ann Jacobs’ Incidents in the Life of a Slavegirl (1861)

First Person Narratives of the American South collection

For seven years, Jacobs hid from her cruel master and mistress in a cramped attic until a chance to escape to the North presented itself. In the following passage, she describes her feelings upon learning that her freedom had been purchased by abolitionist benefactors in New York:

"My brain reeled as I read these lines. A gentleman near me said, "It’s true; I have seen the bill of sale." "The bill of sale!" Those words struck me like a blow. So I was sold at last! A human being sold in the free city of New York! The bill of sale is on record, and future generations will learn from it that women were articles of traffic in New York, late in the nineteenth century of the Christian religion. It may hereafter prove a useful document to antiquaries, who are seeking to measure the progress of civilization in the United States. I well know the value of that bit of paper; but much as I love freedom, I do not like to look upon it. I am deeply grateful to the generous friend who procured it, but I despise the miscreant who demanded payment for what never rightfully belonged to him or his."

Pages 300-01, Incidents in the Life of a Slavegirl

http://www.loc.gov/teachers/classroommaterials/connections/narratives-south/file.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harriet_Ann_Jacobs

ilovemy4c-hair

sparklefairyaylin:

Sounds like the same ol using of black culture as a footstool. Omg jazz, i love jazz, lets “join” that movement then steal it, omg hip hop, lets “join” that movement then claim it as our own, Omg anything that any culture creates that I like I’ll take it like I’ve been…