The Whiteford Family: Moses Whiteford

March 14, 1775

I woke up surprisingly on my own, pretty early in the day, and I got myself dressed. I heard a knock at the door, "Yes?" I asked, fixing my ascot in the mirror.

It was Harriet, "Good morning young master," she says as she entered, and I looked at her, "Good morning, Harriet."

"Would you like me to help you get dressed for today?" Harriet asks.

I sigh and look back in the mirror, finishing up with fixing my ascot, "I think I can handle it, thank you." I gave her a tender look, and I went back to dressing myself, "Could you open the curtains for me though? I'd like to look at how lovely today is."

I honestly don't like Harriet or any of our slaves doing everything for me or anyone, especially with things we can easily do on our own, such as dressing ourselves. It's nice to have help, but from someone that's doing it with no say in denying it, it just feels wrong. They're doing it so they don't get punished, they're doing it to protect themselves and their families. The fact that they are bought and sold on the streets of New England, I hate it. They're not property, they're people being treated as property, but I cannot think of anything to actually call them, because I've been raised to call them a 'slave' or an 'African slave', so I try to call each of them by name when writing about them or talking to them, but many would not know that they are my family's slaves. I feel heartless and horrid whenever I write that word when I'm describing the people working against their will, even in a journal. That I am not expecting to ever be published, but deep down I feel it might be.

I sigh, "Harriet?" I said, and she looked at me as she was tying one of the curtains up, "Yes sir?" she asks.

"I can move these curtains aside, how about you go and enjoy your morning in the best way you can?" I say, smiling at her.

Her facial expression went from natural to ecstatic, "Thank you, sir!" she says, and I pat her shoulder, "I'll tell my father and Mr. Hans that I don't need you for now."

"Yes sir, thank you again," Harriet says and she heads off.

It felt good when I told Harriet that she can take the morning off as my handmaiden. I know it is strange for any white man to say so, but I just felt upset. I didn't want to have her be forced to do things for at least a few hours. I wanted her to be happy for as long as she can be in the best way possible.

Once dressed, I left my room and went to Mr. Hans, who was sitting next to my father and talking to him at the dining table, I sighed and said, "Mr. Hans, father, I was thinking about going out to see Uncle John. I haven't spoken to him for a while, so I was hoping to see him today."

My father shook his head and leaned back in his chair, looking at Mr. Hans, "You speak to him," he says. I look sheepishly down at my feet as Mr. Hans sighs and says, "Why can't you talk to your son?" he sounds slightly annoyed at my father, and all my father responds with is a shake of his head.

Mr. Hans let out a breath of irritation and looked at me, "Is that the only place you're planning to go to?" he asks.

I felt my heart sink, and my eyes welling up with tears, "Why aren't you talking to me?!" I asked. I don't want my father to ignore me.

Mr. Hans gives a gesture to me to be quiet but I don't listen, "Why aren't you talking to me? I am your son!" I raised my voice at my father and before my father spoke, Mr. Hans held a hand on my father's arm and stood from the table and went over to me, whispering, "Moses... please, just go to your Uncle's before you make it worse."

"Fine," I say, showing how my father made me feel in my disheartened tone, there is so much more I want to say, but I stop myself and whisper to Mr. Hans, "Tell my father that I gave Harriet the morning off, I don't need her this morning." I turn around in anger and leave the dining room towards the front door.