Not that crazy

The idea of killing your own child as a means of saving them from a horrible life is something that I keep thinking about even when I’m not in class or reading this book. Initially I feel like I would do anything to ensure the survival of my children, but I have never been a slave. When I try to imagine what that must have been like, Sethe’s actions don’t seem so crazy to me.
The summer after I graduated high school I worked at a factory full-time and at a grocery store part-time. Some days it would already be hot and sticky outside when I got to work at 7 a.m. I’d be sweating all day, except for two breaks and a lunch when I got to sit in the air conditioning. Then I’d drive to the grocery store and work until 10 at night. I’d get home and my feet and my knees and my back would hurt. I hated it, but I was saving money for a new car and once I got enough money and reached my goal I could stop. Hell, if I had decided I didn’t want a new car, I could have just quit one job and worked less. No big deal. But I couldn’t imagine having to work like that every day with no end in sight. Also knowing that I was working for something helped get me through the day. Slaves were just working. There was no retirement they were working for, no light at the end of the tunnel. And that’s just the work. I couldn’t imagine working like that and being whipped and abused and treated like shit and having to just take it, and then waking up the next morning only to have to do it all over again. I don’t know if I could handle something like that mentally. I don’t know if I would want to live if that was going to be my life.
So when I look at it that way, I don’t think what Sethe did was crazy at all.