Since the young age of four I mourned my mother, and defamed my father’s Corinthian image of deism. I never let anyone know the contents of my character out of fears of being judged. They told my people to return to our sharecropping roots of southwestern piety, though I held no such belief in my people then, I can surely say I do now. We are in no exodus, we are entrapped in sawdust homes that we ourselves decided were enough. We claimed victory over those who wanted us gone, though in reality we had set ourselves ablaze in the dust bowl lands of here. Now I do believe that I am endowed by my creator with certain unalienable rights, but do these rights constitute merit or prejudice? Both I do renounce in my belief in this western world.