Farmer and I finally went to a movie last night. First one
in many months.
We saw Lee Daniels’
The Butler. I felt the movie was
performed well, I just don’t know how much of it was true. I believe enough
truth was there to show the horrific way the human race behaved at that time. I
also believe there was a political agenda involved which always seems to creep
into most pieces that come from Hollywood. But, that’s not the point.
It just so happened I also just finished a book for my book
club that same day. The title of the book is William Henry is a Fine Name by Cathy Gohkle. This is about the
Underground Railroad, the appalling conditions and circumstances that
surrounded that time. The book delved into the sacrifices made by all peoples –
black, white and what they called mulatto.
The Underground Railroad was used way before my time. The
book pulled back the curtain for a small peek at the price paid for the
everyday freedoms we take for granted and expect.
Turmoil between a son and his mother who had different eyes
watching the events played out. The mother had a certain level of kindness but
would turn her head and allow “what needs to be done to deal with the
situation” take place. That translated into beatings, whippings and
mutilations.
Unrest among two men with different views of owning slaves
was shown. The one felt as long as he was treating them well, they all won. The
other man risked his life and family relations to bring the black people to
freedom. Little old ladies who hung quilts on their clothes lines and left
candles burning in the window had a lot of guts.
Watching scenes unfold in the movie where the blacks fought
for the simple things such as eating at the counter of a restaurant or sharing
a drinking fountain made my stomach turn.
I was too young and too white to have experienced any of
that.
Too young happened because of when I was born.
Too white had everything to do with where I lived. I hardly
ever saw a black person. No blacks lived in our area, went to school with me or
to church. That was my world. The most exposure I had to blacks came from TV.
And, the blacks were always the bad guys. I grew up with tunnel vision. Black
guys lived somewhere else and they were bad guys.
My mother had a reserved fear of black people. She seemed to
fear things she didn’t understand. So, I bought into the whole black people =
fear.
Until.
Until I was a teenager and went to a skill center school
setting where kids from other schools in the area including the city were mixed
together.
Oh how I wished I could remember their names. There were two
black guys in my class for computer programming and what a hoot. We had so much
fun. It took me awhile to swallow my fear and learn to know them but once I did
we were friends that whole year. I lost track once school was done, but my eyes
were opened.
By this time for the most part blacks were treated fairly –
at least it appeared that way from my corner of the world.
Going back to the movie and the book and watching the heroic
efforts on the parts of those trying to help and those trying to change history
I wonder where I would have fallen if I would have been there?
I’m pretty sure I would never have treated anyone as awful
as they were treated. Would I have joined a cause trying to educate and change
the world?
As I look at my world now, is there blatant injustices
playing out in front of me that I don’t see? Am I ignorant of things that need
changed? Am I hiding my head in the sand? Should I speak up more loudly and act
stronger for someone or something? I have stepped in a few times to stop
injustices in public, but am I missing a purpose?
Not everyone is called to everything.
I pray we open our ears to the voice that calls and are
willing to answer.
