My Piece:

Name: Gus Dotson                                                                                 March 2017

Humanities                                                Africans in NY: Creative Narrative Assignment

The Dancing King

I remember the boat, the smells, the scent of death and rotting feces. I saw friends and enemies die in their shackles around me. I remember when those phantoms first came to our country. I remember when I first saw one of the dreaded fire sticks that could shoot a rock faster than a bow could shoot an arrow. I wish I could forget, but I will never forget the sight of sickly looking men with sticks that shot fire killing my poppa. I remember the blood spraying onto me. I remember the way my father charged them with his axe and fought to save my mother and me. I shall never forget watching from that death trap of a ship as my beloved Guinea beach disappeared. Often on Pinkster I will first visit the beach here on Long Island because, although it is not like the beach in my beloved Guinea, it still has that connection to my home and my soul that was left when those white men got me.

I have an okay life on Long Island. My master, Frederick DeVoo is a butcher and owns a 20 acre farm. My master sees that I am loyal and smart and he has been kind to me. He gives me decent food and a day off every six weeks unless there is a holiday, in which case I get that for my day off. I have been owned by him since I was thirteen. My momma lived and worked here with me until a year or two ago when she died. Lately my master Mr. DeVoo has taken to having me dance in front of his stall in the markets so as to attract buyers. The other slaves will sometimes hold dancing competitions in the markets on holidays and the winner will get a pie or some money. I am quite a good dancer thanks to my momma. I’m said to be so good that folks in the market call me “The Dancing King”. I am famous with people of all races that go to the market. I Feel as though I have triumphed over my master for he does not beat me but is kind and lets me live as a human rather than as chattel. Many of the other slaves in the market are treated like animals by their owners. My name is Jack DeVoo the king of the beach and dancing