To Paris With Love

Dearest Sally,

Your elder brothers have taken time to write this letter for me. I hope it finds you well. You are likely well on your way to Paris, but I pray this letter will reach you in London.

I am overjoyed to learn that you are going to Europe. I hear the circumstances for people like us are different there, and I beg of you to take full advantage of that fact. Perhaps J will grant you some measure of freedom when you arrive, and you might see the landmarks and cultural artifacts the city is home to. Perhaps you might even discover what blight upon the land led its people to cross the ocean to America.

If you have any opportunity to learn that which our Master, generous though he may be, will not permit us to learn at the house, seize it. Whether it be a turn of phrase in their language or a new stitch for our embroidered work, it may be useful to you. One thing that I have managed to learn in my time about the house, is that J, viciously as he fought to escape the tyranny of those in London, adores the manner of living in Paris. Find a way to meld their manners with yours and you may prove yourself more valuable in his eyes.

I do not wish to sour your stay with my dire instructions, but I desperately want you to benefit from this trip I ways that may not be immediately apparent to your innocent eyes. As you know, our family receives good fortune and affection from J in ways that other families at Monticello do not. But do not become complacent with this fact, child, as he is a man of many contradictions. Notice that he grants your older brothers freedom to move about the countryside and learn a trade as a white man may, but still holds them in bondage. He speaks of women as creatures of leisure and pleasure, yet sets women to work in the fields everyday. We hold the favored positions in his home in spite of the burden of our skin and sex. Be bold where you can, but do not forget what is expected of you.

It is with heavy heart that I speak these words, for through only an accident of birth we are granted privileges over others bound to the household. But we must hold fast to our God-given skin and our Master's favor as a matter of survival. I fear that one day there will no longer be mulattoes and negroes and Americans of European stock, only black, white, red. Our bright skin will separate us from our kin only in the lusty eyes of men. Yet, if we wed ourselves to the hearts of those who hold the key to our freedom, perhaps their decisions will weigh in our favor.

Sincerely, 

Betty Hemings