"The Help", civil rights, and me

I saw "The Help" today.  Or more accurately, I cried my way through "The Help" today.  All two hours, seventeen minutes of it.  Even now, almost eight hours later, my emotions are still raw.  It was more than just the film (although the film was quite good - and the cast and crew did a brilliant job).  My tears were both a response to the horrible injustice of segregation in the United States, and the ongoing impact it continues to have in modern America.  And while the director made a clear attempt to end the film on a hopeful note, I walked away quite depressed.  We may have come a long way, but we aren't where we should be.


I originally read "The Help" around the time Peanut was 4 months old.  I had heard Kathryn Stockett interviewed on NPR, and I was intrigued by the topic.  We had never had an African American maid (or a maid at all, for that matter...my parents believed in "child labor"), but I had been thinking a lot about race relations in the United States, the legacy of Jim Crow and segregation, and the impact on my African American daughter being raised by two white men.  


So over the course of three nights (while we were sleep training Peanut the first time, don't ask) I devoured the book whole.  It was riveting.  And depressing.  And shocking.  I remember distinctly calling my mother to grill her about the civil rights movement just after I finished the book.  She had been living in Los Angeles, not Mississippi, but she was 22 when Martin Luther King Jr. was shot, so I thought she might have some reflections to share with me.  Unfortunately, my mother had little to share, admitting she was never very political and hadn't really been aware/involved.  


"The Help" has been one of several books I read in the last year about African American history.  Coinciding with Peanut's adoption, I became very interested in African American history.  Like many book club readers, I cringed in disbelief as I made my way through "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks", a non-fiction book about a poor African American women whose cells were used to advance science in multiple ways, but was never informed about her "contribution" (and her family never received any compensation for her "donation").  I read "The Idiots Guide to African American History" for a broad overview of the African American experience in the US.  And I read other books like "The Help" and "Little Bee" that delve into the complex relationship between whites and blacks at different times in the last sixty years.  All along I heard a small voice in my head - the voice of my eleventh grade history teacher, telling me that all people are racist - as I considered the long term effects of slavery and segregation on interracial relations today.  I won't deny that things have gotten better - but we still have a long way to go.  Consider these statistics that I found from a quick web search:


-According to the Pew Research Center, the median wealth of white households is 20 times that of black households.
-According to the Children's Defense Fund, 11.1% of white children are poor, while 39.9% of black children are poor.

-According to the US Bureau of Justice Statistics non-Hispanic blacks accounted for 39.4% of the total prison and jail population in 2009, but as of 2010, blacks (including Hispanic blacks) only comprised 12.6% of the US population.

-In 2009 black non-Hispanic males were incarcerated at the rate of 4,749 inmates per 100,000 U.S. residents of the same race and gender. White males were incarcerated at the rate of 708 inmates per 100,000 U.S. residents. 
-African Americans account for 43% of all persons with HIV/AIDS (among women, the number jumps to 56%), a startling statistic given that blacks are just 12.6% of the total US population.


The list goes on.


"The Help" is more than just an abstract (and appalling) history lesson.  It is personal, especially as I think about my daughter, my sweet daughter, the daughter that I love more than words can say, an African American girl being raised in a home by two gay white men.  I'll be honest: I walked out wondering what the impact of the world of "The Help" will have on her, if any.

And I was wondering if we are doing Peanut a disservice in some way.  Is our adoption of Peanut just another way of taking something away from an African American person?  Sure, Peanut's mother decided to make an adoption plan, but if she had the access to the education and resources that I was fortunate to have, maybe she would have been able to make a different decision.  


And beyond that - what will I say to Peanut when she asks me about racism, about civil rights. About why Martin Luther King was shot and who were the KKK.  About the terrible, horrible things white people have done to black people and the legislated inequality - and the legacy of that hate and division.  Will she still look at me as the daddy she loves?  Or will my fair skin make me a representation of all the evil that has been done to the African American people by whites?  


And am I, like my eleventh grade teacher said, a racist like everyone else?


My mother saw the movie last weekend, and when I spoke with her today I discovered that she also had a strong reaction to the film, dripping with tears as the final credits rolled.  She said the film brought back tender memories of her grandmother's African American maid, Daisy.  


So I sit here - thinking of Aibileen and Minny and Constantine - the fictional representations of slavery and inequality in the US courtesy of Miss Stockett and "The Help" - riving myself crazy with questions and tearing up intermittently.    And while I can't yet answer most of my burning questions - what I can do is hold my daughter close to my chest, shower her in kisses and hugs, and make sure she knows how much daddy loves her.  It may not solve any social problems, but it sure does make me feel better.