Diary - Black Migrant Woman

(diary entry written from a black migrant woman's perspective)

Dear Diary,

Today was another difficult day trying to find work and make a life for myself here. Ever since moving from Alabama, I thought things would be easier and simpler here but it hasn't. The North has a city culture completely different than the South. I had hopes that my training as a nurse would allow me to continue in the medical field and find some work alongside a doctor. However no one thinks a black woman could be qualified to assist a doctor. At first, I refused to even look for anything besides professional work that I know I am quite capable of. However after so many rejections and the need to feed myself, I started looking at other jobs. Though I am still searching for a way to practice my skills nursing, I fear that prejudice or horrible perceptions of black women will forever keep me in a lesser status.

In the meantime I have taken a position as a cleaning lady for a white family and another job as a maid at a hotel. Both pay so little but I would be back on the streets if I let my pride get in the way. Such work is hard but the most difficult part of it all is feeling like such an object here. Men constantly give my suggestive looks and glances - perhaps because I am of lighter skin. My mother did tell me that men would find me exotic looking and to be careful of the dangers associated with sex. At times I wish she were here with me to guide me and help me figure out what place is there for a black woman in the urban life. Yet I am also ashamed of what I may have to resort to in order to continue living here and would not want her to see that. Women in the neighborhood tell me to go into prostitution or dance in the cabarets. The red light district is full of women using their bodies to make money and men come in droves to fulfill their sexual fantasies. Rumors that some girls have made a different path through singing and apparently that pays well too. I wanted to come here and help people - live an honest life. But if I am limited in my options, am I really giving up on my dream or just accepting a harsh reality that it may be impossible here and now?

Anita