I usually read a book long before it is made into a movie and generally always prefer the book to the movie. "The Help" was an exception for me in that I purposefully didn't read the book because I was suspicious of it. I had no desire to read anything that glorified &/or romanticised racial stratification and my suspicion was founded in the timing of the release of the book. (Dixiedemocrat thought process - so we just elect our 1st black president and all of a sudden a book called "The Help" is all the rage? Hmmmm...) In this day & age with Teabaggers and Republicans feeling free to disrespect our President with Tar Baby slurs etc....perhaps you understand why I passed on reading the book. I know too many people in Richmond, VA that speak wistfully of "the good ol' days" and by that they mean the 50s/60s and my interpretation of "good ol' days" is aw hell yeah, a longing for racial/sexual stratification - when the white male was on top. Those WERE great days if you were white and male. For everyone else? Not so much. So, I skipped the book. Then the movie was released. My 82 y.o. Mom really wanted to see it. I still had my reservations which became even stronger reservations after hearing Melissa Harris Lacewell Perry's complete revulsion towards the movie. I respect her opinion 99.9% of the time in all things - but my Mom wanted to see it and it is hard to get her out of the house SO we saw the movie. More beneath the squiggley.
Before I continue, I must tell you of my friendship with Stacey. I love Stacey -simply and purely like I love my own heart. She happens to be the only African American woman I work with - we joke that we're twins. I simply adore her. Before seeing the movie Thursday night, I told her of my concerns, of Melissa Perry's reaction, of my big misgivings of giving my money to anything that was insulting to African-Americans. She listened and said she would probably watch a bootleg copy but she wasn't going to give the movie her money. A little more background, my Dad from Illinois -raised by bigots. My Mom from New Orleans -also raised by bigots. They met in college and one of the many things they had in common was a heart-felt B.S. monitor on racial bigotry. My Dad went on to be a civil rights leader here in Richmond in the late 60s. Going so far as to risk his City Councilman status to invite Stokely Carmichael to speak in Richmond and appointing the 1st African American woman to City Council when he decided to resign in 1973. The Klan hated our family and the FBI tapped our phone...and much, much more racial animus - that was my childhood. A childhood of which I am proud.
SO, Mom and I go to see the movie Thurs. night. It was packed and we were early. An audience comprised of an equal mix of black and white people of all ages - but a good deal of older people. Going in with a jaundiced eye - I have to say I loved the movie as did my Mom. There was humor in it but also discomfort. I would not have liked the movie without the discomfort. When the movie was over - and I found this interesting - nobody clapped. I thought this a good thing, given the subject matter and the way the movie ended. I liken it to say perhaps Schindler's List. You know you saw a good movie, but clapping at the end seemed inappropriate. Another analogy, if you will, when someone posts bad news on FB. You want to acknowledge you read it but you don't want to push the "Like" button. But I disagreed with Melissa Harris Lacewell Perry's total revulsion by the movie. (BTW, she had H.S. here in Richmond). Oprah liked it and upon leaving the theater, I could see why she did. Race is a sticky subject but I felt the movie was not disrespectful and didn't glorify any kind of "Mammy-ism"..."good ol' day-ism". My overall feeling was well it opens a window or door for everybody to talk about race and where we are today because we certainly are NOT in a "post-racial" America.
FF to this morning and my office conversation with Stacey. I had not seen her since I saw the movie. She asked of me my thoughts, and I shared them as above. I also told her that I intended to see it again with other friends this week coming. She listened. After I was done, she then shared with me that she saw the movie over the weekend and HATED it. I listened to her. Her thoughts, initially, were along the lines of my dead-on misgivings of seeing it in the 1st place. "Why now"? "When our President gets insulted on an almost daily basis", citing the recent Tar Baby remark. I reminded her that I had the same misgiving BEFORE seeing the movie. We also talked of "Mad Men" and the soon to be released "Playboy Club" and my own feminist misgivings of the timing and overall edification of these shows. Stacey's basic take was this: "We black people, we have this". "We pass this stuff down verbally from generation to generation we don't need to see this on a big screen." I told her that I realize it is recent past and no doubt painful - but that if people -black and white -didn't examine the recent past and let it lead to talking about where we still ARE NOT in this country, racially, that we were depriving each other of painful conversation - but a conversation that could only help in the long run move us forward. Stacey said she didn't see the value in that. "Black people get this." "If white people don't get this - well they never did to begin with." "We know our past, we don't need this thrown in our faces." I asked her if she would feel differently about the movie had it been written by an African-American. She said "No." We then went onto a broader conversation about how racism begins. We both agreed that no one is born a racist - all you have to do is look at little children to know that. But I also shared with her, and Stacey knows my Mom, that my belief was that even if you were raised to be a bigot, that "the Spirit" of God if you will, influences people to know that something deeply wrong - is just that, deeply wrong. (My Mom had 5 black maids before her Dad remarried the evil stepmonster - my Mom's, Mom died in childbirth when she was 4, and then SHE became the maid for a family of 7 children). I also shared with Stacey that I felt "racism" like "sexism" is a taught thing and a many-layered thing. The true bigots that have that kernal of irrational hatred in their hearts, may never let it go - but not everybody is that way.
Anyway, Stacey gave me a lot to chew on. My Daddy was a minister of an all-black church in the 60s. With Stacey's words ringing in my ears I recall something he shared with me when I was a teenager that the most humbling words he ever had to consider were those of Deacon Munson who pulled him aside after church one Sunday and said to him in so many words. "Jim, I love you and you are well-intended but you are not black. You will never be black." My Dad realized the wisdom of those words. That by virtue of HIS skin color he would never, ever, know what it is like to experience the world through the eyes of a black person. I am a pretty white woman. I live in a predominantly black neighborhood with neighbors whom I love dearly. They love me too. But I also know that I am not black. I know that MY skin color and attractiveness - lends me certain experiences and makes it near impossible to live others in a way that I could ever FULLY understand. (I only bring up the attractive part because it isn't lost on me that attractive people get cut a whole lot of slack in this world).
Where my friend Stacey loses me is in her opinion that subjects of race are not even worth discussion. I think she is wrong in that regard. To my mind, things NEVER get better if they aren't brought out in the open and discussed. I'm not afraid of having my feelings hurt. I'm not afraid of hearing how I may have - intentionally or unintentionally hurt others. I'm most afraid of not talking about things that I think are worthy of discussion. We don't live in a post-racial America. I want to hear from everyone - but I'm particularly interested in the opinions of BlackKos contributors. The floor is open. Thanks for listening.