February 9, 2017 - 22:34
This week has been an interesting experience rereading The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. I had read the book before, for an English class my junior year of high school (I think it was junior year at least), yet it was a greatly different experience reading it again this time. While reading this time, I found myself comparing my two experiences with this book, and reflecting about my development in higher education and my relationship with literature. Through reading about Douglass' story, I reached a deeper and much greater appreciation of my privileges. As a slave, Douglass had nothing. The descriptions of what everyone was allowed and given as slaves felt like a jolt to my systems. It really puts things into perspective when you read about people who only had two pairs of shirts and pants per year, who are separated from their families before they can even remember their mothers, and who are kept in such complete forced silence and dehumanization. It makes everything feel more painful when I think of the people who still live without access to such standards of living that we all think of as basic, such as water, food, clothes, or education.