ISALC: ESL 411: College Prep. Reading/Writing - Spring 1998
Diversity and Civil Rights in the U.S.

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Roots--
Student Compositions

Photographs:Copyright 1996
Microsoft Corporation,
One Microsoft Way, Redmond,
Washington 98052-6399
U.S.A. All rights reserved.

These student compositions are based on a reading from Roots by Alexander Haley and the video series by the same name. Students were assigned to take the part of a character and describe an event from the character's point of view. The essays have been revised by the students, but still may contain some minor errors. The student authors' names are Email links. They would appreciate hearing from you!

Parental Love

by

Mayu Ohtsuka
The sky was blue, the air was clean, the birds were singing. A man was walking around the village. He seemed to be nervous about something, however, to also have some expectation. It was a usual day for the village, except for one man and one woman, and several people who were in the hut. Breaking the peaceful afternoon, the groan of an animal was heard, actually it was the human animal which gave birth.

At the moment, I was in magma. I felt that something was coming up and down in my body. Here it was extremely hot and damp. I put forth all my strength, bearing down not only with my feet but also with my teeth. What I could see was just dust in the dark room. I was covered with my sweat. From far away, I could hear some people's voices. They had soft and powerful voices, but that didn't make sense. It sounded like my mother's help, or like my husband's whisper. I opened my eyes; at the same time, the pain ran up my body, which came from my womb regularly. I screamed as much as I could. My throat was constricted. How many times has it come today? Up to today, I haven't had such torture. Does every mother in the world stand such pain? Can I live from now on? Help, help, help!

A few seconds later, a big object passed from my womb. I felt that my body was getting light, and so was my mind. Suddenly, I could see around me. Familiar faces, familiar furniture, everything was familiar. I could hear everyone's voice, my mother, my aunts, my cousins... even my husband. Again, I fastened my eyes, teeth, throat, fists, whatever I could. I strained my voice as much as possible. I became an animal. I had already lost my self-control.

Then, a bawl reverberated. It was like a divine revelation. I hadn't heard such a clean and pure cry, which caused such resonance. Warm water filled my eyes and spread in my heart. The water from my eyes and from my forehead were mixed together, then flowing into my dry mouth. I had already forgotten the pain with which I was tortured. As I looked around, everyone seemed delighted and they told me congratulations. My emotion was definitely enhanced. I had become a mother. I had fulfilled my destiny. A baby was there. The baby was wet and red-black, as it had black skin, tinged with my blood. The smell made me relax. I embraced my son gingerly. The skin was still slightly moist and warm from my body. The beat of the heart was the same as mine. He was so small and tender to the touch that I couldn't believe that he was alive. I made sure of his hair, his eyes, his mouth, his nails...

Even though his eyes were closed, I could feel his strong gaze. Even though he couldn't hear my voice, I spoke to him. Even though he couldn't speak to me, I heard his murmur. Now all he could do was just cry. But it was enough. It was enough to know of his existence. He hadn't been given his name yet, but there was no doubt that he was our son. Raising my eyes from our son, I saw my husband standing beside me. He was out of breath, but he seemed to feel greatly relieved. I gave him our son. He touched our baby's cheek. He was so unaccustomed to holding a newborn that his finger was trembling. I asked him some questions. There were immense words that I wanted to say, but all I could say was my hope for our son. He replied that we would devote our baby to God. My eyes meet his, and agreed. We sincerely hoped that he would be an ambitious man and have an ecstatic life.

After a week, the day was not yet dawning. The sky was pitch-dark, the air was static, the stars were twinkling. Only the trees were muttering. In the middle of the night, my husband was walking to the ceremonial space, taking the baby in his arms. His steps were prudent. Mysteriously, the baby was sleeping quietly, as if he had already known what would begin. His steps stopped. The darkness sucked them in. As the baby was hoisted, a sacred power converged on the father and son. Time stopped. Far in the distance, someone's voice was heard. No, it was echoing in his head. The voice gave the child a name, "Kunta Kinte". And since that time, we have called him Kunta, and watched him grow.

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Updated: 12/25/07