If you've missed the outpouring of negative reviews, tweets, and general outrage over the release of the movie version of The Help from voices in the African American community, you've had your head in the sand. To bring yourself up to speed, read these reviews before continuing with this post:
And for balance, here is an
interesting interview with Octavia Spencer about her role as Minnie Jackson, one the of maids, and the movie overall.
Another great source for ongoing discussion of the movie is to search the hashtag #TheHelpMovie on
Twitter. All kinds of people have lots to say.
I finally saw the movie tonight and came loaded for anger after reading all of that outrage. I was shocked to find myself liking it more than I thought I would. I could see and understand that the movie was a sugarcoated, whitewashed version of what really happened during Jim Crow, but it didn't send me into a fury. It didn't go far enough, but it wasn't
that bad, through my lens. I was disappointed I didn't hate it.
That got me thinking about how differently black and white people are experiencing the movie and wondering why. Is there a white perspective on the movie, and if so, what is it?
Let's start with comedian Louis CK, who sums up things pretty well here:
Sadly what makes this spot so hilarious is that most white people are pretty clueless about our privilege.
We are also pretty clueless about the varied experiences of African American people of all education and economic backgrounds, from slavery to today.
I came of age in the sixties and early seventies, during the time in which
The Help is set, and when the civil rights movement was in full force, changing our country forever. But I barely knew it was happening.
The environment I grew up in was virtually all-white, middle class suburbia. Anything I knew about Black people, slavery, Jim Crow, or the civil rights movement came from the history I was taught in school, what I saw on TV, or from the very brief, infrequent conversations we had about those topics at home. Which means I knew Jack, and what I did know was mostly distorted, watered down, or an outright lie. This is true for most white people.
I didn't begin to get another point of view until college, when I had my first opportunities to meet Black people, say stupid stuff in front of them, be called a racist, and thanks to the beginnings of African American Studies and Women's Studies programs, take classes that deconstructed the hell out of my naive reality.
More than 35 years and thousands of experiences later, I am no longer clueless. Yet I am clued-in just enough to understand that what I know about being African American is only by proxy, despite the fact that my most intimate and important relationships are with people who are Black, including my children, my grandchildren, and my spouse.
But I'm fortunate. Most white people stay in segregated enclaves and never get the chance to grow or to understand anything outside of our distorted realities.
So the stakes are very, very high for African American people whenever a movie comes out about The Black Experience, especially if it is a white person trying to tell the tale. (There is also the Tyler Perry debate, but that's a whole other post.)
No wonder people are seething at how
The Help falls short, glossing over the exploitation and brutality of the time, and appropriating the real story of Black maids in the Jim Crow south by making the central character a white person who saves the day.
Which is exactly why movies like
The Help are not helpful for white people. Most of us have not had enough experiences or education outside of our white worlds to have any critical context and perspective about what we are watching. We falsely think it is The Truth. Liberal white people in particular have a hard time wrapping our heads and hearts around the ugly truth of our nation's racial history without becoming paralyzed with guilt. Many liberal white people want desperately to believe that things are almost all better now, especially since we elected a Black man president.
The great racial divide is alive and well. Same country, two different worlds. And it's all playing out in reactions to this movie.
Read the screen grabs below from actor
Wendell Pierce's Twitterstream. He recounts watching the movie with his mother, who was The Help at one point in her life, as was his grandmother. He sums up the great divide perfectly, 140 characters at a time. Especially this:
"Watching the film in Uptown New Orleans to the sniffles of elderly white people while my 80 year old mother was seething, made clear [the] distinction."
Read from the bottom to the top:
Pierce:
"The story was a sentimental primer of a palatable segregation that is Jim Crow light."
Yes. The
The Help lets white people off the hook. It creates a partial truth that allows us to feel less guilty about Jim Crow and all the bad things our ancestors did during slavery because the feel-good outweighs the feel-bad, to keep our heads collectively in the sand about how we still benefit from all our privilege, and to be in denial about the incredible racist backlash caused by President Obama's election and how bad things still are for most Black people today.
There is an opportunity in all of this. White people, if you were moved by the movie (thanks in part to the amazing actors who play the maids) and are curious about the vocal controversy surrounding it, seek out knowledge about what it
really meant to be The Help. We share this history. We need to understand it.
I recommend these books as a place to start:
Kindred, by Octavia Butler
And here is a list of books offered up by Melissa Harris-Perry (
@MHarrisPerry) after she did some scathing live tweeting while watching
The Help. A great recounting of her tweets and an interview with her about the movie can be found
here.
(Again, read from the bottom up.)
Note to readers: In all the searching I've done for reviews and responses, I've not found one critical piece by someone who is white. If you know of any, please leave them in the comments sections. Thank you.
Sept 18 Update: Read this
great post by 74 year old Janet Cheatham Bell, an accomplished author who once worked as a maid.