Dear Diary Essay

I’ve lived on this here ranch for many years now, and as a coloured man, I feel my life is nothing but the lowest of all. A white man’s loneliness and hardship is nothing compared to a black man’s isolation. I live here, all alone in my own room. The other men say that it’s good to have your own room, where there ain’t nobody else to disturb your own privacy. But, it’s not like that. There ain’t nothing good about it at all. A lonely life is what I live. By my own self, in my own bunk, with no one. I’m kept away from all the other men on this ranch, because of the prejudice against my coloured people. I have complained too many times about this injustice, but nobody would listen to the nigger speak. But, something funny happened today. Everything was the same as it always is on a Saturday evening. The white fellas out to town, leaving everything else silent, except the quiet echo of the horses, moving about restlessly. As usual, my crippled back, injured from that darn horse, began to throb with pain once again, so I took out my liniment and slowly began to massage the ache with my hands. My mind wandered, and wondered about the reasons I have for staying here. I have many. I can’t leave this place, even though it is the one place where I am always unhappy. It’s just the fact that I’m a black man, I suppose. I haven’t got any choices. It’s either here or nowhere. It was silent as hell. I gazed up from my thoughts and realised Lennie, the new guy was standing in my doorway. I heard things like he was a big fella and everything but by god! That guy is huge. I just thought that there must have been something wrong with his head. How dare he, a white man, who should know about a black man’s privacy, should come and invade my territory? I’m not like them other white men. Seeing as I ain’t allowed in their bunk house, well, why should they be allowed in mine? He stood there, smiling with his great mouth. I told him that he shouldn’t be in here, still stunned at his daring. He smiled even more at that. Then he replied, only talking about his darn pups. But I realised, as the conversation grew on, that the man didn’t understand about prejudice and all those things. I began to feel at ease and even liked his company. Of course I did, anyways. There can’t be any man on earth who likes being on his own all the time. We talked and we talked. And I surprised even myself when I told him about my past, when I was a boy. When my old man had his own chicken ranch and the white kids would come and play. I used to play with them sometimes too, my old man didn’t like that but I didn’t find out why ’til I was older. Wish I could go back to them days. It was nice talkin’ to the big fella though. Normally, If I say something, why it’s just a nigger saying it. When he next spoke, I realised the boy weren’t taking in anything I say. All he was concerned about was the damn pups. God, a guy could talk to him and be sure he won’t be going off telling everyone else. He was stupid as hell. And I took advantage of him. Advantage of all the dumb things I thought about him. I’d been put down one too many times, and this time, this time, I was the one in power. I suppose I just wanted to scare him, that’s all. Didn’t mean no harm. I threatened him with the thought of his pal, George Milton, who Lennie seemed to be fond of, leaving him behind. Of course, all that’s unlikely to ever happen, but I dunno†¦ It got his attention though. He was scared. God, I was enjoying it, but now, I realise how stupid I was. I enjoyed every moment of this torture, but it was okay. It wasn’t me, or so I thought. I carried on, saying stuff like, supposing George can’t come back, say if he died or something. What would Lennie do then? I was full of glee with the thought of the hurt I was inflicting on Lennie. But I just suppose I was jealous. Too jealous. How come this dumb guy, Lennie, could get a friend, a companion, when I couldn’t? I’m smarter than him. I could’ve been more of a better person to talk to. But I know why. It’s always the same reason. The prejudice white folks have for us black folks. So I kept tormenting him, with all the rage and anger I had kept within myself for a lifetime. Suddenly, Lennie stood up and I realised how big he was. It scared me. This towering ogre, shadowing me with his great body. I stopped teasing him, and tried to be more gentle and reassuring. I know I’m never gonna mess around with that big boy any more. We settled down once again, with comfort and ease among us. It was a nice feeling. Probably better than the feeling of being in power. I suppose power isn’t always everything. Lennie was now talking a lot more than before. About their â€Å"dream† of owning their own land – the same dream every man has before they lose their entire stake to the cat houses in town and finally give up. Too many men I’ve seen have given up. There’s no reason why this dream won’t be the same. But†¦ for some reason, I believe it could come true. It’s just the enthusiasm I saw in Lennie when he was talking about it. Of course, I didn’t hear much about the dream from Lennie. All he was on about was the animals and how he’d be taking care of them. Then, from outside, the sound of a horse whined, and halter chains clinked. I moved to the door painfully. I didn’t realise my back hurt so much. I figured it could have been Slim. He sometimes comes into my room. It turned out to be Candy, the swamper. He old man is older than me, but in less pain. Lucky him. I invited him in though. Might as well anyways. Since everyone else was coming in. And also because I enjoyed the company†¦ He came in and suddenly, it seemed as though all we were talking about was their dream. I was amazed at how real all of their hopes were. I masked my thoughts and pretended to be not interested. I questioned them about the dream, about the land and where would they get it. But they answered with flawless answers. I even tried to put them off the dream, telling Candy how he’s just a swamper, and that’s all he’d ever be. Another act of jealousy. But the two men, with feelings so strong for what they believed in, did not fall for any of my traps. Could it be true? Could they really be doing the impossible? I admit, I ain’t ever seen a guy really do it. Achieve their dreams and own their own land. Nope. Not one person. I suppose that’s why I let my defences down. All my pride collapsed with the entrancing dream†¦ It took a lot of guts to say this, but I offered to work for them for nothing. Just so I could be with them, and perhaps be even†¦ happy†¦ I dunno†¦ It felt like it was worth it at the time. Giving up all this loneliness for a bit of happiness. Who would refuse? Who could refuse? Being part of a dream such as theirs. With their own land, own house, own animals, own everything. It was only a dream – ’til they came along and made it come to life. The moment was spoiled when Curley’s wife entered without my saying so. I couldn’t tell her to leave though. Even as a woman, she still has more power than a nigger. She came looking for Curley. As if she didn’t know already. I asked her politely to leave, but she responded with her loneliness. I suppose I haven’t really paid enough attention to her, to wonder about her feelings, but why should I? If the way she treated me today was just a smack of reality, then I shouldn’t care for anyone but myself. My anger built up and was eventually released. The anger I built whilst listening to her threats, freed themselves in the form of words. I should’ve kept to myself though. I know I didn’t do anything except make things even worse. She didn’t have any rights to be in my room. A coloured man’s room. No rights to be messing around in here at all. And that’s what I told her. Told her to get out. She then turned against me, and threatened me, like I have been for everyday of my life. But this time, it was worse, much worse. She threatened me, telling me that if I told anyone she’d been here, she could get me hung. She knew she could get me killed. A black man ain’t got any power over a white woman even. She threatened to kill me and the painful part was†¦ that I knew she could. And I accepted it. Because I have accepted the prejudice all my life. My body froze and I sat there perfectly still, my eyes in one place, turned away. It’s the position I use to create the wall protecting me from the cruel, white world. Where I can imprison the pain and the hurt from a lifetime of hatred and prejudice. These feelings who crave to scream and shout. Yet, they have no say in this world. Like I don’t have any say. I was grateful towards Candy at that moment. He stood up for me, going up against the bully. But she did the same to him as she did with me. But I appreciated it, I did. It was only when Candy said that he thought he had heard the other men coming back, when she left. I’m not very sure if he was telling the truth, but it did its job. She was gone in a flash, leaving her emotional footsteps behind imprinted upon us. It was time for Candy and Lennie to leave. I would have loved for them to stay for just a little bit longer†¦ but I knew they couldn’t. In the background, George yelled for his friend, Lennie. A friend I envy. As they left and turned their backs on me and my sanctuary, I shouted back for Candy. I told him to forget everything I said about hoeing and doing odd jobs. I didn’t mean it. To him I didn’t. But I really did. It’s just a secret I have to keep to myself now. I felt unwanted, my pride gone, all lost to the hands of that woman. I wish I could go back and ask Candy for another chance, but I know I can’t. I’ve already rejected the offer, and even told him I would have never liked a place like that anyway†¦ I wonder why I said it now. I suppose I didn’t want to seem desperate, even though I really was. I had to rebuild another barrier, and in doing so, I abandoned my only escape out of here. I didn’t think before I acted. But those words were the only thing on my mind at the time. And still I wonder why. I should probably forget about it though. I won’t have another chance. Unless they asked me to†¦ but that isn’t really likely. White men asking a black man to work with them? Perhaps†¦ but just not these men. Now, I’m rubbing my back once again, with the pink palm of my left hand, covered in liniment. With the desire to soothe the pain on the outside, as well as the pain inflicted inside. I’m thinking about this past night, this past year, my past life. I realised I ain’t never been truly happy, have I? Never on this ranch, where I’m always singled out from everybody else, only ’cause I’m the only black man. I don’t like anything on this ranch. Only ’til tonight I found one thing I liked. Friendship. But I don’t have it. Not now, anyways, and probably not ever. I do like it though. I know I do. But all I can do is just sit here night after night, wondering about it. How it’s like, how it’d be, but never experiencing the joy. Just†¦ wondering.