My mother, alone among all the Negroes at Turner's Mill, had been laid honorably to rest in the family plot among white folks {scant yards away, indeed, from the unsentimental Benjamin, now spinning in his coffin} with a marble headstone not one inch smaller nor a shade less white than theirs. I am no longer oppressed by the fact {as I was for so many years after I had grown to manhood and was able to reflect long and hard on these matters} that the name on that headstone was not a nigger woman's forlorn though honest Lou-Ann but the captured, possessed, owned Lou-Ann Turner.
In "The Confessions of Nat Turner," the narrator reflects on his mother's burial at Turner's Mill, where she rests among the white community, signifying a rare honor for a Black woman of her time. Her grave, marked by an equally white marble headstone, contrasts starkly with the typical treatment of Black individuals, highlighting the racial disparities of the era. This poignant detail reveals an attempt to bridge racial divides, even in death, underscoring her dignity in life.
The narrator's struggle with his mother's identity surfaces as he contemplates the inscription on her headstone. Instead of her name representing pride and independence, it denotes ownership and subjugation. For many years, he found himself burdened by this reality, grappling with the implications of her status as a "captured" woman. This duality captures the complexity of Black identity and experience, reflecting broader societal issues of race and recognition that persist in his consciousness.
