My name is Avery. I'm writing this diary now, not as some private collection of my thoughts, but as a private contribution to public resources, of my successes and failures, my triumphs and disgraces. Many people know me by many different names, some of which I'm proud, some of which, not so much. There are some names that I feel it only appropriate that I, among my own company am allowed to call myself. Some people find that silly, and hell, sometimes so do I, but that's just the way it is. I was brought to this country by white men, at first of my own will, but shortly thereafter, things changed, and before I knew it, I was struggling against a force I had never imagined even existed.
But there I was, on this boat, heading off into a world of which I never knew, but came to hate after a short period of time, while also learning to love after an even longer period of time. That place was the great country known today by the name United States of America, and for a long time, it was my back that it was built upon. I was chained and forced to work without wages, sold as property and treated with the same respect upon which a mule or any other beast of burden was treated. I was inspected like an item at auctions, degraded and told constantly that I was less than a man. The insults of my captors went by me unrecognized at first, but then I learned, and I learned quickly. The White men forbade me to learn to read or write, but quietly, by the light of the stars and the moon, by the night, during the few hours of the night in which I was allowed rest, I learned the language of the White man. I learned to hate the white man, or pity him, I can't clearly remember which, but I remember praying for him often. I sang songs to help pass the lonely tired nights that I wasn't plotting my escape, or my revenge, or my education. It's so strange to come from so far, wishing for nothing more than freedom and an education, and to be where I am now. It's almost laughable. But I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I? Well, to go back on topic, I spent so much of my time dreaming of having the simplest of rights, which the White Man told me was a privilege that as a filthy nigger, I didn't deserve. As time wore on, and more and more of this great country was built on the back of A. Blackman, and things began to change, for better and for worse. Up north, I was treated with much more respect, even sometimes considered a human. Down south, where so much still depended on me being a pack mule, things got worse. I secretly learned, as much as I could, and even started to make scientific contributions. I was an inventor, an entrepreneur, a savior, and one who needed saving.
One day, a war started, and there was a chance we would end up enslaved by a whole new country, built on the backs of a slave, with no hope of freedom. I convinced the president of the United States that he should stand up against these crimes against humanity. I told him that without absolute freedom there was no freedom at all. And one day, ha, I couldn't believe it... we were free. We were free. So now I am writing this diary, because it is my Constitutional right, that I be allowed to learn to read and write, and let the world know of my triumphs.
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