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My composition, an extra chapter for "A Lesson before Dying".

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A LESSON BEFORE DYING Chapter 32 A month had gone by, and not much had varied in Bayonne. The outcome of Jefferson's execution hadn't gone as expected, and although many communities in the neighborhood felt despair for what had occurred, I was still waiting to see a conversion on the so-called "White Community". I was in the kitchen meditating over a plate of peanut butter sandwich whether it was right for me to disregard everything, and depart with Vivian someplace where my conscience and resignation wouldn't harm me. Months had passed since Vivian's reaction to my ambitious inquiry, and although she was initially against it, the Jefferson occurrence helped us overcome her divorce and make our relationship reach its peak. I stopped eating my sandwich when I suddenly heard footsteps approach the kitchen door. It was Vivian. "You look tired." She said "I'm just confused about all this. Do you really think we're being reasonable?" Vivian stood quiet for a moment. "What do you mean?" "I just feel we should think this through furthermore." "What's there to think through? ...read more.


Miss Emma hadn't been the same since, buying herself a cat to keep her company and only leaving the house to get a hold of the daily newspaper. Tante Lou got fever one week after the incident, and is still waiting to recover from it. For Reverend Ambrose, the recovery was fast and efficient, without taking into account the car accident he encountered right after leaving the penitentiary. Everything had gone from bad to worse ever since, but to say so about me and Vivian was just an understatement. We had always had our differences in what ethics and beliefs regarded, but we chose to not let them interfere in our relationship. This utterly changed after the execution of Jefferson, as tension started to intensify, leading to random fights over insignificant anecdotes. One of the most repeated ones was the argument we always seemed to start every time I started talking about the influence Jefferson's eye-opening experience could have in my students, to become more than just black inhabitants of the white repression. If Jefferson could change himself from a hog to the bravest man in the execution room, then perhaps I could change the student's outcome in society. ...read more.


A colored person? "I'm sure you would have done the same for me." "But I don't understand...don't you feel hatred and repulsion, when standing next to me? "Why would I?" "Because I'm black!" "What has that to do with whether I find you likeable or not. We shouldn't judge people by their appearance or exterior, but by what they symbolize inside." I stared motionless at the sky, briefly meditating. "Well, it was nice to meet you." He said. "Have a nice day!" As I laid immobile in the middle of the road, my conscience came to haunt me once again with more doubts and uncertainties that I could handle. How could I have been so primitive and dull to think all white people were comparable in any way? The hazy and ambiguous reflections of a stereotypical white man I had had were just as insulting as the ones we, colored people, had to endure every single day. In a way, rising above the prejudice was something everyone had to do at one point in their lives, and I wasn't going to be the only one to achieve it. ?? ?? ?? ?? Diego Bravo Corrales ...read more.

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