A Letter from Miss Harriet Tubman, Kansas, 1954:
No, I am not THAT Harriet Tubman. Nor did my parents name me after that negro that helped other negroes escape from their owners.
My parents were poorly educated, and might have even been what we now call retards. Daddy had one dull eye. Still, they were upstanding folk, and I am proud of my name.
I am sorry about the sad state of white gentlemen today, however.
No, I don't want to help the slave escape from your trousers.
No, I do not know Aunt Jemima.
No, your train cannot ride my Underground Railroad.
No, my name will not make me have black babies.
No, I do not care if there is an 'Uprising' by your Ferry.
No, I never met a slave owner named Master Bayter.
I have no opinion on that other Harriet Tubman: I mean, slavery was probably bad and all, but then it couldn't have kept going with such honorable men leading it.
I am just a white woman in Kansas that doesn't personally know any negroes, and I am fine with keeping it this way, God Willing.
I am Laslo.