Dear Reverend Samuel May,

I trust that you are well. William and I have settled comfortably here in England – we found a nice little place for our family just outside the city.

Firstly, I am writing to thank you for all of your efforts in helping us ensure our freedom. There are many letters of appreciation to write and your earnest letter on behalf of my William and me to Mr. Estlin – whose kindness and generosity has surely been recognized by the heavens – is part of the reason why we are where we are today.

I am primarily writing to address some of the concerns and ideas brought forth by your last letter to us and give you some of our observations during our journey to the North and ultimately, to England. We know that you are ashamed of your country, America, whose men fought to be freed from Great Britain and a country William and I fought to escape. We don’t understand how it came to be like this, but I put my faith in God and his powers, and you should too. God is just, and as William may have told you of the story of the false Mr. Slator who took his own life after discovering that he lost the slaves he had unrightfully gained. God will right things, and He may well be able to open the eyes of America to their errors.

To answer your other inquiry, I do not know how my disguise as a white gentleman passed so quickly in the eyes of the white men. I was much surprised myself to see that hardly a soul suspected our ploy. I was anxious the whole journey, repeatedly believing that people could see past the colour of our skin, and see us for what was underneath. People in America, especially in the South, seem to trust the colour of one’s skin and use the color to create distinct classes based on skin colour. It is because of the heavy reliance on skin color that William and I were able to escape the bonds of slavery so quickly, and in many ways, so easily. Although I am part white, a part biologically given to me by my father, it was very difficult to see myself as white, since the black part of me always took precedence. It was interesting to pose as a white gentleman during our escape, because we have learned that Americans so often assume that a skin that is dark symbolized inability to think or feel, and is only capable of menial labor. As a white gentleman, it was astonishing to see how fast the white people became keen on me, even though I didn’t say more than a few words. The people here in England try to look past the colour, and I have seen that there are good and bad people everywhere, regardless of skin colour. Living here, I am beginning to see myself dually, as one whose identity is influenced by both white and black. It is a new and interesting perspective.

I leave you with two questions to ponder. First, how does one define one’s identity based on multiple racial backgrounds? Would you relate more on a single race, to all racial backgrounds equally, to one or the other depending on the circumstances, or not at all? Is one’s racial identity something one can define oneself, or is it something only others can determine? Second, why is it that in America, so much is dependent on appearances? What is it about the visual that compels so many people to rely on just that and determine social class, economic power and authority based on something like skin colour that cannot be changed?

I earnestly await your response.

Sincerely Yours,
Ellen Craft