Breaking down racism

I’ve seen the responses of those caucasians who haven’t the heart for what they see today. They are sick of it and wish it would all go away. My people have wished it would all go away for 400 years now, and that we could find true equality in the country that we helped build and that we fought for in every war of this nation that we shed our own red blood for.

Here’s a little history of my family that I want to share:

My great, great grandfather, Robert Shepherd (Sheppard) was born 1835 in Virginia, 4 years after the Nat Turner uprising in Virginia! By 1870, Robert Shepherd lived in Brandywine, Mississippi during the Civil War. He was approximately 30 years old when the Emancipation Proclamation was signed. He was a slave for more than 30 years! His son who is my great grandfather, was born about 1867-1870; 3 years after SLAVERY ended!

When I think about BLACK LIVES MATTER, I reflect on the history of my OWN relatives and of what they had to endure and what they succumbed to just to survive. They were classified as property, they don’t have the same sense of family as white folk, even though our female ancestors raised white children including nursing and caring for them. I think of the heartbreak of sweet, sweet babies almost taken from their mother wombs and sold as property to some other slave owner, leaving a mother and father to spend the rest of their lives wondering about their innocent, beautiful children and if they were alive and how they were fairing. I hate to think of the beautiful, shapely young pre- teen and teen girls who were used as breeding stock and for the sadistic and perverted pleasures of the slave masters.  I’m sick of racism in all its forms; but it still exists and God in Heaven knows that it’s wrong, as well as those who dare to think that they alone are human and privileged to human rights.

There have been protests for a little more than a month and certain people are sick of it. The sin of slavery and the stink of racism has been plaguing our country for 401 years. I wonder if others are as sick of that as I am.

God in Heaven, we need You.





More than I can say, it is good to see other ethnicities join in the protests for racial justice, accountability and equality. I am glad that there are so many courageous and brave young people who would stand together against such injustice. It was novel to see elderly people march or stand for injustice and help peaceful protesters. It was just wonderful to see a 95-year old man walking in a peaceful protest.

It’s been a little more than 2 weeks and protests are still going on. People are protesting for changes that can happen without an act of congress. I applaud them all.

But there are others who say,  “All right. That’s enough now. We got it. Let’s get back to business as ———–”  Some might even say they wish thing could go back to the way it was. Never again, is what I say. Never again!

I hurt a bit when I saw a policeman ranting and raving about people vilifying them all. He made such valid point when he said that all police are not like the group who suffocated the life out of George Floyd. He said that most police when they saw it were disgusted and outraged as other citizens. I hurt for those who have had to bare the brunt of these critical times in our country because of heinous acts by a few law enforcement officers abusing their power. I saw so many law enforcement officers kneel and pay respect to all who died by police brutality and praying for better days and I cheered for them. Most police are not that way. I don’t believe that they are. It’s not fair to think it either. My thoughts are this: One bad apple can spoil a whole bushel. It is up to the good law enforcement people, whatever their race to show those bad apples that it won’t be tolerated. And that if they don’t heed the warnings, they will suffer consequences to the full extent of the law.

Also, the struggle has gone on for over 200 years and still African Americans and other people of color have had to endure the worst kinds of injustices because of our beautiful skin color. It’s been 401 years and we’re still trying to get justice for so much that was denied us from the time the first slave ships docked here in the U.S. Irreverent and ungodly acts not to mention lies and lynchings and rapes and beatings and destruction of our families and caricatures and stereotypes and inhuman acts and laws were leveled on us a  people in times past and sadly in 2020. It was the norm to hang black people, and just like in the roman arenas where spectators enjoyed watching men, women and children fed to the lions and never flinching at what happens to them, so some enjoy racism, which is a lion trying to devour us.

Post card displaying blacks hanging

Actual Postcard

Some may say that we’re going overboard with this thing. On the contrary we’ve not begun. What kind of human delights in this so much that it was a postcard?? An evil human who doesn’t realize that God is watching. My God in Heaven, help us!

No, there won’t be any ‘going back to normal’ ever again. Never!





I still see my father standing out on the porch of our home during the night one particular summer. He was quiet and just looking around. He normally had a cigarette smoking it. But this particular time he was just standing there sometimes with his hands on his hips, sometimes with his arms to his side, and sometime with his arms folded.  The neighbors, many of them were either standing on their porches or sitting on their porches. Sleep was a luxury for many of them, as the skies were filled with smoke and one could still see the smouldering light of fire in the night. Daddy was standing guard, without a gun in his hands. He along with the other neighbors were standing on their porches trying to watch over their families, as the city burned.  It was interesting that none of them spoke to each other. They just looked around filled with their own thoughts, prayers and fears.

Roy Lee Payne, Sr. aka Charlie Leroy Payne

My daddy grew up in Florida, the same place where they let the murderer of Trayvon Martin go, as if nothing happened. His family had a little land back then. He was born in 1921. His great grandmother was full blooded Cherokee. His mother, accepting her lot in life as a widow during those times, raised her family as best she could. She saw many of her children killed for no reason, other than being black; colored or negro were the terms used back then.

Though the negro was “freed” capitalism had to find a way to get cheap labor. Thus, jim crow and sharecropping belched up from the bellies of evil, sadistic men. That wasn’t enough though. It was common practice to take young preteen and teen ‘bucks’ and for whatever reason they were accused of, put them on the chain gang. My daddy was one of those teens who was on the chain gang.

He escaped somehow and just like his ancestors, made it up north to freedom only to be swallowed by another form of evil racism – economics. He never returned home except for twice, when his brother, Stephen was found hanging from a pole in front of the white man’s auto garage business. Stephen was about 16 years old. The last time he went back home, his mother had died, and he went back to bury her. That was in 1963.




I have a famous family member who I am proud of: His name is Jesse James Payne.

Jesse James Payne – my Uncle

Click his name above and see what’s said about my famous uncle, my father’s brother. It’s really good ‘reading.’  October 11, 1945 Uncle Jesse was killed like so many other black men during that time. He had the nerve to think he was a real man. How dare he. It didn’t matter that he served in the military of this country and then have a wife and daughter and try to live as humans ought to. Shame on him. The same scenario as what happened earlier this week in Central Park, a white woman said that my uncle tried to rape a little girl. You know the rest.

Evil in this country has always taken the form of godless, heartless, witless, cowardly and cruel racism. It hasn’t changed. My God, please help us!


As a 14-year-old looking out of the screen door at my father quietly standing on the porch watching the night, I was afraid. I didn’t quite understand what was going on during the summer of 1967, but we were right in the thick of it. I was afraid and couldn’t sleep.

More tomorrow.



IT AIN’T WORTH IT!  hate-text-made-from-bones_mkos0z_l

I remember when I was much younger that I hated some people who did terrible things to me and lied on me and the whole scenario. Now, for the record these people really did disappoint and lie on me and I thought that they were real good friends. So, after alienating myself from them and licking my wounds I began to literally hate them. 

It’s strange though, hate doesn’t hurt the one(s) you direct it toward. It hurts you. I became quite bitter and even lost my appetite. Well, I won that victory by learning to forgive even though they didn’t ask for forgiveness. I’ve learned through the years that hate is a waste of time. It is an emotion that takes up a lot of time that you can never ever get back. You can spend valuable, precious time thinking of how much you hate someone. It is very possible that hatred directed toward a “deserving”  person is justified. But justified or not, it’s not good for you, the hater to do it. You can miss out on wonderful, loving, caring, kind emotions because hate has filled your being. 

Really, hatred takes up so much time and clouds your reason to the point you will look up one day and years have gone by; years you’ll never get back. Years filled with hatred instead of kindness and charity stink! Consider that the next time a person or situation causes you to hate. You can choose to hate or not hate. I had to learn this lesson, and I want someone else to do better than me and don’t waste precious time hating. There’s so many others in this wide world to love on. Hey, that’s a thought. Let’s see how many years we can spend having compassion on others. Don’t wait until the new year, start now.


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