Chapter 8

“It’s not like our previous protests have done any good,” I pointed out.

“So you’re not going to go because your family might be mad?” The disbelief in Jackson’s voice was evident.

“I’m just pointing out to you that nothing ever changes down here, and I sometimes think nothing ever will. We haven’t even finished the Civil War yet.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try to do something about it.”

Jackson had become quite the activist over the past two years. I had grown disillusioned, because nothing we did seemed to make the slightest difference.

“So you’re notgoing?” he said.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Well, that’s the problem right there. If you can’t be bothered to fight for your own rights, why should anyone else? It’s not like you’re just going to wake up one day and there will be ‘freedom across the land.’ You have to make it happen. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“I’ve been known to spout a lot of bullcrap.”