Thoughts of an enslaved white person

What is going on? How can this be? Don't they see my hazel eyes and pale skin? How can they be auctioning me off as a slave? People of my race are not fit for slavery! I may be poor, I may not be able to read, but I'm still white! I have heard horror stories of white people being wrongly enslaved, but I didn't think it could be true. How could a white person enslave someone of his own race? They teach us that race means everything, that all whites are good, all blacks are bad. Oh God, please help me! Let them see my true race, let them see that I am not fit for slavery!

***

Several months later, my skin has darkened and I no longer have the soft, youthful complexion I once did. Field work has taken its toll. I wish someone from my former life would save me. Slavery is so much worse than anyone outside of it could imagine. The only thing I have learned over these few months is the myth of race. It could not protect me, and I am now darker than others of African descent. Some are surely whiter than I. What separates me from them? We work together, eat together, and suffer together. No one is fit for this horrible institution! May God save us all!