“My slave”

I am an African American woman, and last year my white post-colonial studies professor invited me back to his house to discuss Fanon over a glass of wine. I knew what he wanted, and I was unsure about whether it was the right thing to do, but he’s relatively young and attractive (there’s only seven years between us), so I took him up on the offer.

At his house, one thing lead to another and we ended up sleeping together. Afterwards, we were lying in bed, and he suddenly came out with “just like the olden days, my concubine slave girl.”

I was understandably taken aback, “What?” I asked. “You know,” he said, “it’s like I’m a plantation owner and you’re my slave.” I was utterly appalled, and left immediately. I couldn’t understand how someone teaching me Edward Said could say such things.

The next day in class he acted like everything was normal. But nothing would be the same. Not after that.

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