Wednesday, September 7, 2011

THERE WERE LINES - UNFORTUNATELY


I’ve mentioned before that I love movies, and that I love books. You can’t really compare the two. The richness and power of a book far out shines even the best Academy Award winning film. I’m not taking anything away from a great movie, but they are just too short.
I have seen the film “The Help.” Loved it. Viola Davis should be nominated for an Academy Award as best actress for her role as a maid. Her movements and face convey so much more than just her words. It is a powerful performance.
I am now reading the book, “The Film.” The movie missed some terrific scenes. There is on about Skeeter leaving her satchel in a place where Hilly found it. Her had all her notes for the book in the outside flap and all her notes for women’s meeting in the center. Another great scene involves Skeeter and her parents going to her boyfriend’s historic mansion for supper. That’s both funny and sad. Also, a naked man in the back yard, very funny, attacks Minny, and her boss Celia.
None of these scenes are in the film. I am aware it would have been way longer than an American audience would tolerate. That’s why you must read the book.
I’m at a point where Aibileen is telling Minny that there are no lines between the races. They are all made up and some whites are trying to push them into subservience. This reminded me of my relationship with Austin. He and I were in school together from kindergarten through eighth grade. We attended high school together also, but things changed that I regret. A third of my grade school was black. They were just kids I went to school with. There were no black or white kids there were just kinds. I didn’t even know there were issues until we were in the eighth grade. While on Safety patrol at our very quiet corner we were pretending to fight. The fake punched the rolling on the ground, the falls, it was so much fun. One day a car screeched to a halt and a white man came and pulled Austin off me threatening him to leave the white boy alone or he would beat him to a pulp. Frankly, I didn’t know what was happening. Austin did and he went home sheepishly and quietly. The next day Austin schooled me on lines I never knew existed. I felt them more in high school and the blacks and whites were more separate. Blacks were in all the sports and some music activities but not in any of the other clubs. I recently checked my yearbooks. The teen focus on me, my fears, my bashfulness, loneliness and fight for acceptance blinded me to their lack of acceptance. We gradually steered clear of one another with ever having a discussion as to why.
That was my failure, my mistake, and my sin. I never reached out to Austin. We reconnected at an eighth grade reunion the year after high school graduation. We talked like we had never been apart. It was catching up time, then I left for college in Canada and I lost track of him. A year or two later I learned that he was down south preparing for the ministry. Fascinating, as I went north for the same reason. And here we both wanted to be Hollywood stunt men.
I have tried again is recent years to find him. I found a New Jersey article about him fighting the legalization of gay marriage. The photo showed him in clerical robes. However, I never found him. I owe him an apology and need his forgiveness. As much as I love him in out childhood, I failed him as an adult.

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