Be a runner

?Slavery was an institution wrought with evil, sadistic customs, one of which…was labeling. Masters and Overseers had a slew of labels for slaves that in effect told the world how to regard them. There was the label “Hot Tail”, given to that young female slave(s) in most cases by the master’s wife out of hatred due to the fact that she (the “Hot Tail”) was engaged in sexual relations with several men on the plantation, most notably…the master. Never mind the fact that these relations were forced upon her, in some cases for breeding and in others as a mechanism of control…she was labeled.    

When it came to the male slave, “Boy” was the word of choice. At a certain age, any eye can make the distinction between a boy and a man but in the eyes of the slave master, there was none; every male slave…was called “Boy”. This was strategic and purposed as slave masters recognized more than the male slave himself, more than that man, more than that “Boy” that percolating just below that docile black countenance was the ever so subtle yet fierce reminder that he was meant to be a king. Slave masters worked tirelessly to eradicate this…hence, the use of the label, “Boy”…

But there was one label that made every slave master tremble with fear by day and had every overseer standing at their post by night. That label…was “Runner”. No, this slave wasn’t working out, running laps around the plantation. Oh no, the “Runner” was that brave soul who dared to think outside of those walls that held his body but not his mind, setting his sights on living the life that was destined for him, without chains. 

Slave masters hated the “Runner”…because he just didn’t get it. They hated him with a passion because they knew he was brave. Catch him the first time and give him 39 lashes on his bare back…no problem, he’ll just heal up and in 5 months or so, try again. Catch him the second time and chop off one his big toes, no worry master…he’ll wait until that maiming gets better, set out with 9 and not 10 and use the lessons learned to go even further. 

Catch him that third time…not happening. Not happening because, by this time, the “Runner” has tasted what being free feels like. He has tasted freedom and even with a forever scarred back and a foot that will never again be complete, he understands that a cage is no longer fit for him. 

Slave masters hated the “Runner” with a passion but not just for his propensity to run but because if the truth is told, the “Runner”…was actually a “Messenger”, sending a message to the others who were bound that there was something better. After being caught the first time, when he was skinned by the lash he may have fainted from the loss of blood but the fire in his eyes never went out and it caused flames, young flames to start flickering. After having his toe removed, his brother, his sister allowed him to lean on them during recovery and all the while he whispered in their ear, “Look at what we can do, together”...

And when he finally broke free on that third time, in many cases never to see their faces again, his lasting message was simple yet powerful and said…If I can do it…so…can…you…

***

Someone is watching you today, waiting to see if you are going to be a “Runner”, waiting for, yearning for the message you bring. It might be your son, it might be your daughter, hey it might be the kid a few streets over with no father of his own who is ever so close to falling in with the wrong crowd.

They’re watching to see if the fire still burns in your eyes after the first attempt and failure…do not let it go out; it’s what will start theirs. They’re watching to see how you hang with, who your roll with when you make your second attempt…choose wisely and they will too. 

More importantly, they’re watching to see the day you finally break free because when you do, him, her, they, mine, yours, theirs, whoever…will come to realize that because you did it…

So…can…they…