A gallon of milk is now one trillion marks. I am struggling to make ends meet. All the luxuries I enjoyed before like Bienenstich Kuchen only remain a fond memory and constantly worried that I will not be able to take care of myself in this foreign land. Speakeasies and bars will hire me to do Jazz even though I am a trained classical musician. My skin and my features pay my bills. I used to secretly judge Polla for her work, but I realized I am the same as her. I came to Berlin to perform with Berlin philharmonic Orchestra, but I have settled to perform in speakeasies and clubs because they want an exotic black woman to perform jazz music. I am currently 23 years old, and I am very worried about my future in Germany Inflation is making its way through the papier mark and things don not look so good for Germany, there are twice the amount of people on the streets begging and industrial workers are protesting. On January 1923, I decided to pick up a part tie job as a barista. It was a hard decision to make because it wasn’t in my plans, but I knew I needed to do it to ensure my survival. My boss is nice and lets me have extra hours. I make one trillion marks a week. Although my financial situation is not the best, I am managing the money the best that I can. I don’t know how long Germany is going to be in this predicament with hyperinflation but I hope everything goes back to normal so I can have my Bienenstich Kuchen.

Germany lost. I have been living in Berlin ever since my mother died and since then I haven’t cared about anything apart from classical music career. It was a cold evening in 1918 and the breeze was extremely cold, deep down I knew this wasn’t the end of war for Germany. I could imagine how the opposition and they’re ally would celebrate about the news- but I knew it wasn’t over.  As an American I tried my best to hide and remain somber. I did not want to anger any Germans because I knew it could potentially cost me my life if I said the wrong thing. From what I read in the newspapers; Germany was given a piece of paper to negotiate. I didn’t know what the terms were, but I knew it was serious business when the government accepted it.  After a couple days, I went to a bar downtown Berlin, that is where I would play on the piano. As I walked into the bar I sat down and listened to the conversations about the treaty.  Many blamed the generals in the German army whilst other blamed the Kaiser for the nation’s defeat. My friend Hied from the bar and I talked about the events and apparently Kaiser Wilhelm had gone into exile and left Germany in the hands of Jew and other generals. However, we had an argument, he accused me of being happy about the defeat because I was American. I ensured him I wasn’t happy, but he accused me of being bias towards the defeat of Germany. 

I left knowing our relationship wouldn’t never be the same. As a black woman in Germany, I already had a target on my back I didn’t need more trouble because I was from America. I have managed to become inconspicuous in the streets of Berlin as a black woman. Black women are less of a threat than black men in Germany, so I used that to my advantage. I would get the occasional slurs and hate but ever since Germans defeat but now, I fear for my life as an American. I left the bar and ran into Polla; she was a lady I ran into at the bar. Polla was a nice to me we exchanged greetings for a brief minute, and I walked back home thinking about whether I should leave Berlin. 

Childhood and Dreams

I was born in 1894, and I am the only child of my parents. We lived in Harlem at the time and everything was good apart from the racist attacks on black people we would occasionally read in the paper. It was just after My mother is a seamstress, and my father was in the army. They have always taught me to fight for myself and fight for what Is write. I was ten years old when I hear about the jubilee quartet in 1904. It was a great revolution for black artists. I have always wanted to be a since I was a kid. I listening to blues and Jazz on Saturday morning with my parents. We were happy I was happy. I was never good at school, but o could sing, mama made me sing during Sunday mass. She said I would be an amazing singer. I had only a few carefree childhood years. It was 1914 and my parents were arguing about the war, mama didn’t want my father to leave but he said it was his duty. I never understood why my father would ever fight for a nation that never humanized him. He left to fight in 1917 against Germany. Mama soon died of a broken heart, and I never heard from my father again. I was left to fend for myself- singing in bars and pubs for a little cash.  I was only happy when I was singing. It reminds me of the old days when mama and I used to sing hymns at night under the stars. My career as a singer never took off in New York, I have been told I was a good singer but if I was a little lighter, I would be a great singer.  I won’t give up though mama said I should fight so I am going fight.