I was born in South Carolina in the 1840's. Plucked out of my mom by a slave women. Father drinks in celebration, mother cries, of joy for once. Before I knew it, I was 5 years old, another me on the way. My dad and I sit in the living room. waiting on the birth of my first sibling, a sister. There is a lot of screaming from the adjacent room, my mothers. Accompanying the screaming, slaves yelling, "push", in the best english they have. Then the screaming and yelling come to an abrupt halt; along with it, my father's smile. He walks into the adjacent room where my mother was birthing; I follow behind, at a distance. There, in the hands of the