I’m not a radical person.
I never really have been.
And I never thought much about slavery.
And it seems odd that what brought me to where I am now was a curiosity about my grandparents, two white people who lived long after slavery’s end.
But here I am.
Reading these words from a Will:
Thirdly to his daughter Francis Redgell one negro women Named Bede but not her child which she is pregnant with which is previously disposed of to his son Hansel Beckwith.
Please stop expecting me to entertain the the benevolent master trope or any other kinder, gentler telling of chattel slavery.