...since I Was A Little Boy, She

I Come To The Understanding That Maybe What Was On The Inside Was More Important, And That Your Outer Covering Didn't Count So Much As Folks Thought It Did, Colored Or White, Man Or Woman.

It's The Same Old Story. Nothing In This World Happens Unless White Folks Says It Happens. And Therein Lies The Problem Of Being A Professional Black Storyteller - Writer, Musician, Filmmaker.

The Good Lord Bird Don't Run In A Flock. He Flies Alone. You Know Why? He's Searching. Looking For The Right Tree. And When He Sees That Tree, That Dead Tree That's Taking All The Nutrition And Good Things From The Forest Floor. He Goes Out And He Gnaws At It, And He Gnaws At It Till The Thing Gets Tired And It Falls Down. And The Dirt From It Raises Other Trees. It Gives Them Good Things To Eat. It Makes 'em Strong. Gives 'em Life. And The Circle Goes 'round.

There Are Two Responses To Really Awful Things. One Is To Lament And Say, "oh My God, Oh Lord." And The Other Is To Laugh At It A Little Bit, Try Your Best To Deal With It And, If You Can, Forget About It As Soon As Possible.

The Act Of Choosing What To Place In Your Piece When You're A Historian Or A Non-fiction Writer Already Renders It Into Fiction For Someone Else. In Some Ways Fiction Comes A Lot Closer To Reality. When You Start Talking About Something As Brutal As Slavery And Life In The American West, It's Really Important To Take A Non- Judgmental Stance. We Romanticize A Great Deal About Life In The American West, But I Thank God I Wasn't Living During That Time. No Matter What Color You Were, It Was Rough, Crude, Tough Living.