Its a Shame to Be a Negro (Chapter 5, page 1 of 6)

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Chapter 5

My Bedroom The violin was on the floor. A classic song played on the radio on the floor next to my bed. I was lying on the bed facing the ceiling.

My eyes were wide open, but I wasn't physically there. My soul was traveling through the song that was playing on the radio.

My mother entered the room without knocking because the door was already open.

She stayed at the doorstep a moment before she approached me.

She bent down to turn the volume down and sat next to me on the bed.

"I heard you didn't win. I know how you feel. But remember, that doesn't mean you should give up for that," she said to me.

I looked at her without saying a word. After all, I didn't know what to say. She picked up the violin and handed it to me.

"Do you know what it takes to be the best? It takes practice, self-belief, and insistence. What do you think if you and I start practicing together? We'll start working twice as hard. I'll accompany you on the piano."

I sat up on the bed with strength.


"You don't have to pay me," she said jokingly. She wanted to smile, but she hid it.

"What about your painting?"

"Don't worry about that. I am your mother. And you count first, and everything else comes after."

"Thanks, Mom." I hugged her.

Downstairs, we could hear that someone had just came home and said, "Honey, I am home." It was Giani.

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