Talking Book

Blood Not So Different From Your Own


Dear Chesnutt,

Yes, those were good times indeed. to still be young and so naive again, I would give away my coveted mustache. I have lost track of how often I reminisce on how much of a difference we thought we were making. The foolish egocentrism of young men I guess. It’s ironic that we were pushing for change outside ourselves when even you still fell victim to prejudice.

You never needed to be my secretary, I had no doubt even though I didn’t hire you, you would make it out just fine. But by my side and in my publication there was no room for you and your demons. Did you forget how freely you used to lament? How you cursed the color line and how “tainted” it made you? I wonder if you still think this way? How can one craft such thought-provoking stories about the negro struggle and hidden intelligence and not believe in it? How do you look yourself in the mirror with such disgust but turn around and in print adopt the negro cause as your own? I should not have to teach you as Julius does for John and Annie. You should know for yourself the depth and intellect of a Negro man, they’re no different from you or me.


Always Yours,


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