I like the way the writer puts an emphasis on hope, family ties and survival. Life for a New Orleans family isn't easy, but Evelyn, her daughter Jackie and Jackie's son T.C. don't let their war- drugs- and racism related problems get the better of them. Written in a cool but at the same time compassionate way this was certainly human story I could relate to.
'I'm not like Andrew and the other boys. Andrew could hold a conversation with President Roosevelt if he needed to. I ain't had to talk to nobody but my sisters for most of my life. What yo dada gon' think of me?' He looked down at his shoes and motioned toward them. 'I tried to polish them today, but wasn't no use. Only so much you can shine shit.'
Evelyn had never heard him speak in anything but the King's English, and she had to stop herself from portraying her alarm.
'Don't say that, baby,' she said, still rubbing his back, and she said it again when she could think of nothing else to follow it. 'It will be a privilege for my daddy to meet someone like you.' She thought to slacken her tongue to even them out a little. 'At the end of the day ain't we all just Negroes?'