Quinn: en fortælling om racisme og overgreb i 1954

Quinn was a 29 year old, African American woman, who worked for a white family in the south. She had lived with them for a little over a year. Even though slavery was “over” that was not the case for Quinn. She was took when she was just 13 years old, and brought to another family to work for them. She was not paid. She has worked in more than 16 houses before coming to this family’s house.

November 9th 1954

Today I learned never to be sassy to white fokes. I was cleaning their filthy silver wear, and quick like usual. Once I was halfway done, The Monster came in. She sat down right next to me, her face to my face. She put on her fake smile and said “well, shouldn’t a little nigga like you clean a little faster?” Her long blonde hair was perfectly curled, and her lips were bright red. The woman was trying to be Marilyn Monroe. Her breasts were all out in her little tight thing, and I was about to gag. I mirrored her smile and told her she could report her complains in the fond for whiny, little pale people. For a second there was not a single sign of emotion on her face, at all. She just stared in my eyes, as if she was trying to read her answer out of them. Then she smiled. Then she slapped me, hard. She turned on her left foot, and walked away. Without even saying a word, I continued washing. I was very surprised she was so gentle, but she was not done. After all, there was a reason she was The Monster. After a few hours, she came down and had a shaving blade in her little, pretty hand. She looked at me again with a smile. However, not the usual smile, this was deep down a real smile. Despite that, it did not look happy or friendly at all. It looked angrier, remorseful and vengeance. She held the blade tight, and I thought she would attack me, but instead she did something worse. She began cutting her arm, throat and stomach. I asked her if she was all right. She then started yelling and shouting. “Are you crazy!? What are you doing, what did I do!? Help me, help me”. She throw the blade so it was right in front of me, full of blood. Her young, blond and strong husband came in running. He started yelling too. He looked at me, and then at her. Then at the blade in front of me, and then my face. I tried to tell him, I really did. I knew he wouldn’t believe it.