I begin this morning with my mind as jumbled as my stomach feels. Between not having a way to join the scavenger hunt with my comments and missing Monday's class for Rosh Hashanah, I sense a psychic distance between me and the students, and I am eager to reconnect.

But I have encountered a wonderful document already today describing the actions of Mum Bett, a slave in western Massachusetts who sued for her freedom in the Revolutionary era in response to her understanding of the rhetoric (and then laws) decrying British "enslavement" of the colonists (and then Americans).

Her story reminds me of the inspiration that drew me to African American history. When I first studied slavery in depth, as a freshman or sophomore in college, I was struck by the incredible resilience of the human spirit. The institution of slavery functioned to degrade people into beasts of burden, but despite generations of that condition, black people collectively and individually rejected their degradation, endured, and continued to insist on their rights as people. That fight, sadly, continues. Last year at this time, I was affected to near depression by the relentless stories emerging about violence committed against black people by white police officers. The fact that the fight is so very far from over is exhausting and devastating. There are times when it consumes me to a point of near-paralysis. But black people do not have the luxury of abandoning the fight. So I reject that opportunity for myself.