I couldn't sleep last night. I was tossing and turning thinking about tomorrow. On June 7th, I will ride in the first class car of an East Louisiana Railroad train running between New Orleans and Convington. I have lived all my life as a white man, even though I am 1/8 black. Tomorrow, I will come race to race with the reality that 1/8 of my heritage is though of poorly by many members of society. I was not aware of my roots in the African culture until I was 8 years-old. One day, I was walking down by the bayou and an old woman walked up to me. She asked me if I was a member of the Plessy family. I nodded in agreement and she told me that she had been enslaved with great-grandfather. I was very confused and I told her she had been mistaken, because I came from a white household. She shook her head and laughed. I ran home confused and asked my mother about this. She made me promise to speak of our families past, so I didn't until now. Tomorrow, I will fully face my hidden past.
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