There isn’t a day that goes by when I am not thankful for being born into this temporal physical existence. This time and place: too young to be drafted into mortal combat, yet too old to suffer the economic uncertainty of my 20-something children.
Born Caucasian and living during a time of unprecedented economic prosperity. Never a slave. Up to 40% of the slaves from Mozambique could parish on their way to markets in the new world via Portuguese slave ships. French slaves from Mozambique had miserably shortened existences at various sugar plantations. The English also profited from Mozambiquan slaves for a century or so until their collective cognitive dissonance ceased by outlawing slavery (they continued “colonization” efforts elsewhere, however).
My roots (with one grandparent, at least) go back centuries to various parts of the UK (ancestry handed down, etc.). My aforementioned family tree is further supported by the clever employees at 23andMe: shared DNA with a Scottish professor, for example; we also share that same fragment of DNA with a recent doctoral graduate in the USA (who identifies as African American) via Mozambiquan slavery. Hmmm.
Thus my book idea: How and when was our shared rapist ancestor involved in the slave trade? Who was he? Why? Let’s know this.
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