The Help

I have been hearing about The Help for a while now.  I’ve heard that it’s good – and it looked good, from the previews –  but I hadn’t had a chance to watch it until last night.  (I had a Redbox rental code from Smiley360, but I couldn’t ever find a place to input it.   And then we had issues with fingerprints and scratches on the disc and had to “fight”our way through.  It was something of a fiasco, but, hey, we finally got to see the movie!)

For those who may not know, The Help is a movie about black maids in the U.S. South during the 1960’s, the attitudes toward them among the white community, and one young white woman who was brave enough to tell their story from their point of view.  The attitudes displayed by pompous white “ladies” were grievous and appalling.  And, honestly, amazing.  I truly cannot comprehend that kind of attitude toward fellow human beings (especially those who do all the “dirty work” – I appreciate those people!), and can’t imagine having thought that way, even amongst people who thought that way.  There were a few with some sense, though, even in the South in the 1960’s, and The Help gave us glimpses of them, too.  Fortunately, as a society, we have largely (not perfectly, but largely) learned our lesson.

One of the saddest things to me, though, was the situation pointed out in the beginning of the movie, when the writer, Skeeter, asked, “What does it feel like to raise a white baby while someone else is raising your baby?”  The reason I find this so sad is that this is a lesson we, as a society, still have not learned.

A Lesson for America

Now, it’s not ususally a white/black thing anymore, and it’s far more subtle.  But the “normal”thing to do in this culture is to give your children to someone else to raise – at least by the time they’re five, usually by the time they’re three or four, and often from infancy.  What’s even worse is that those who have chosen to raise others’ children while someone else raises theirs, unlike Minny and Aibileen, so often experience no sorrow over the loss.

Mamas, what has happened to us?  Has our cultural conditioning so taken over our common sense?  It tears at mama hearts all over the country when little ones are dropped off at day care or school for the first time, and the abrupt separation hurts – them and us.  We’re told to “get over it.” But maybe we aren’t supposed to get over it.  Maybe God put that tenderness in our hearts for a reason – because children are supposed to be raised by their mamas, not by day care workers and school teachers.  (Please note that I have nothing against individual day care workers or school teachers – just the system.  And I understand that situations are different, but I’m speaking to the overall thought process of our society, where many women do have options.)

And why is it that just a short year or two later, most of those same mamas are rejoicing when summer vacation is over and they can once again get rid of their children?  What is this system doing to us and our relationships with the children God has entrusted into our care?  Truly, this grieves me as much as the wrongness of requiring a person to use a separate toilet just because her skin is a darker shade.

A Lesson for Me

Okay, now off my weepy soapbox and onto one last lesson.  Little Mae Mobley’s mama didn’t seem to care much for her.  She thought Mae was fat, and made sure she knew it.  But Aibileen knew she needed to hear a different message.  Every day, Aibi would take Mae into her arms, look her in the eyes, and say, “You is smart.  You is kind.  You is important.”  Wow.  Do my daughters hear that they’re important?  And do they hear it enough?

I hope that, as a rule, my actions tells them they’re important (‘though I’m quite sure I fall short in this area a lot).  But do they hear it from my mouth?  I think that we will adapt this affirmation, and I will repeat it to my daughters regularly, just like Aibi did.  “You are smart.  You are beautiful.  You are important.  And God loves you.”