Telling members of the back row that they should solve their own problems by moving is insulting no matter who you're talking to. But it is particularly insulting to African Americans; their entire history in the United States is of forced and coerced movement. They were forced to come here as slaves, and when legally freed, they were confined to the worst land, worst jobs, worst education, in places they had no connections to. It was freedom in name only [...]

When black populations migrated north in the hopes of finding a better racial climate and better work, it was a migration driven by desperation. Their move changed many northern cities, filing them with large black populations, but the relief they hoped for was often not around [...]

A brick buyer from a construction firm, a white man in a large truck, comes to look at the finished piles. He explains, "Handmade bricks, especially historical ones like this, are in demand. They often sell for over a dollar per brick." He sells to companies specializing in reclaimed materials that advertise to those wanting "historical charm." Most of the buyers are fancy restaurants in fancy neighborhoods, places that seem so far away from Selma.

Sem joins the group [...] She spent the day working and wasn't complaining: "I am a single mother with five kids. I will do any work, and this is the only work in town."

Another worker joins her, his hands bleeding beneath a cloth wrap. He also isn't complaining, although when I ask him directly what he thinks, he smiles tight. "This is slave work, that's what it is, but the only work around. Kind of funny when you think about it, because them bricks were probably made by slaves. That is Selma for you, though: still a city of slaves."

Sam listens to this, and then adds, "[...] I seen friends, good vets who fought for this country, moved out of their Section 8 home because a refugee came. My friend lost his place to a Somali. He was injured serving this country and now he gets less than someone who just came over? [...] I get food stamps, and my line is now twice as long. I go to DHS and the Somalis are cutting in line. What was once a forty-five-minute wait is now two hours! I don't got much. I am at poverty level because I don't fuck over people. I do honest work, and this is what I get? I mean, I even stitch myself up when cut rather than go to a doctor."