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ISALC: ESL 411: College Prep. Reading/Writing - Spring 1998
Diversity and Civil Rights in the U.S.

The Transition of My Feeling

After I was captured, my captors took me to the holding pen. In the holding pen, although there was no hope of our escaping from here, most people could not give up their hope and were crying. In the ship the atmosphere of the people had changed a little. The people seemed to give up and were groaning with physical pain. On the contrary, in the holding pen and the ship, I was thinking about the moment when I was captured rather than what would happen to me in an unknown country.

All of a sudden, everything occurred. When I was caught, my life was finished. The azure sky was laughing at me as if he was teasing me. On the contrary, my sight was obscured by the darkness all around me. The life I once had, I could no longer see. The only thing I could see was hell. Anguish and vexation sprang up at the same time in my heart. I will never forget the moment that my arms and legs were chained. Even though I could feel the pain physically, my mental anguish was far greater. My family raced through my mind. I wondered how my parents felt when they knew I was captured. How much would they be sad and bewildered? Would they get angry with my captors. And what about my family, would they be safe? I prayed for the safety of the rest of my family.

Although I realized that white people were enslaving my people, I never thought it would be me. It seems that I was destroyed by the present I was making. I was so excited about making a drum for my little brother that I completely forgot the captors were there. I expressed my regret for that. However, I recanted my thinking because even if I had really been cautious not to be captured, I reasoned the result would have been the same.

In the hold, the view we saw was horrible. We all had to lay down on the floor with chains, we were forced to eat food we had never seen before, and we had to relieve ourselves on the floor. Seriously this was hell. My desperation grew as I became irritated by the food, the smell, and the heat. The stench of human filth all around me was driving me insane. I feared I was getting used to this smell, although at first I could not put up with it. The smell in the hold was worse than vomit. I was afraid the day would come that I no longer cared that I was a slave. Living as a slave is little better than death.

I had no idea what slaves are. Of course I never thought about slaves. All I knew was my life was going to totally change. Actually I did not want to imagine slaves rather than I could not imagine. I was exhausted from the long terrible trip. I did not want to do or eat anything. I was losing my will to live. But then, my wrestling couch whom I respected told me if you give your cooperation, we can defeat the white people, and gain our freedom. Therefore amongst all this despair, I was excited and took courage because he was still powerful like he used to be in our village. I could see the light of hope. Possibly, we might be able to get out of here. Suddenly, that hope brought me the strong power to live. I may see my family and friends and village. The scenery where I was brought up came back to my mind for the first time. I never missed my village before because I had never been to other places. I never even thought I wanted to go to other places. Everyone loved our home village. That should not be destroyed by strangers, especially by that cruel way. I felt we were the only people who could protect out village. The courage of fighting with my captors was aroused intensely. I felt we might somehow manage to weather this storm. Of this I am now sure, 'where there is life, there is hope.'

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Created by: krauss@lclark.edu
Updated: 3/14/98