Finally saw The Help yesterday with my mom. And I knew before going into the theater that I would be affected by the story and the weightiness that it carried. Perhaps that's why I put off seeing it on opening day.
My grandmother, Lola, (Otherwise known as "Jenny Mae") passed away in 2002. She came from Mississippi to Upstate New York as a young woman and worked a many job. One being that of "The Help". So you can imagine how my mother and I were affected by the storyline.
Not only was this film superbly directed, written, and acted out (Viola Davis, you are a dream!), but the heart and truth behind the story completely resonated with my mom and I.
I've caught a few blogs here and there from young Black women who were hesitant, like I, to see this film. But instead of bracing for heaviness of the subject matter, they seemed to want to avoid it altogether..."Haven't we moved on from the Civil Rights Era?" They proclaim. Or, "Why must I see a film where black women are only maids and servants?"
True, it is unfortunate that strong roles for Black Americans are far and few between. But regarding this particular story: This current generation needed to know. They need to see.
With the subject of History being pushed down the totem pole of importance and seen as completely relative. It's very sobering to be reminded of truth and of real events that took place not that long ago.
And once again, I appreciate with awe and strength the shoulders of whom I now stand on.
If you don't know where you've been, you won't know where you're going...