A Snowbunny's Confessional I walk into the hotel carrying a slip of paper. It’s a decrepit building in North-East DC. On the paper is a number, a room number. I knock. "Come in!" I walk in. You are standing there, confident, powerful. "What do you want?" I stammer "I have come to ask for forgiveness for my sins and the sins of my ancestors, Sir" "Confess!" you bark at me. "My people, I mean I, we, we, we white people have exploited Africans. We colonized your lands, we took your resources, we enslaved your people. I am sorry". "You expect me to forgive you just like that?" you ask. "No Sir, I have come to earn forgiveness by making up for past injustices". "You are trying to buy forgiveness?" "No Sir. I want to willingly submit to the degradation that your people had to suffer. I choose to be a white slave to my black master." That ...