How The Help Helps

"I was scared, a lot of the time, that I was crossing a terrible line, writing in the voice of a black person. I was afraid I would fail to describe a relationship that was so intensely influential in my life, so loving, and so grossly stereotyped in American history and literature."


-- Author Kathryn Stockett on writing THE HELP


It was 2004 and I was teaching 10th graders. One white male, 15 years of age, informed me in no uncertain terms that racism was over, kaput, and certainly not worthy of discussion.


The next day I came in and drew a timeline on the board: a civil rights timeline.


It featured the highs and lows of the Movement's struggles from 1900 through 2004. Among many other events, it included the scary fact lynchings continued unabated throughout the first half of the 20th century, and the happy fact that our armed forces, our lunch counters, and our schools desegregated in the second half.


Then I asked students: when were you born? When were your parents born? Your grandparents? We filled out the timeline with these happy events. I also included my and my family's births.


Then I gave students a recap. "So, (insert name of student who thinks racism is nonexistent), when your parents were in grade school, our schools were desegregating. So, when I was born, Dr. King was shot..." And on, and on, and on.


The argumentative student suddenly had very little to say when he saw his life and ancestry coinciding with the indisputable events of history. That he and his family were not so far removed from relatively recent events that shook our nation's segregated society to its core.


It's for this reason I can't help but like The Help. It reminds us we have a complicated, painful history, and that past doesn't go away simply because of someone's opinion it no longer matters.


I also appreciate how well author Kathryn Stockett walks in someone else's shoes. She crafts the characters of black Aibileen and Minny as deftly as she does white Skeeter and Hilly. Every character is complex, flawed, and full of possibility and surprise.


Yet she has obviously spent sleepless nights full of guilt for making this choice.


I've meditated on this topic in a former post, A Right to Write? I've been challenged by others when I wrote from the perspective of an African-American woman. As one wise friend put it to me,

“(It’s) something about the audacity/privilege of a white woman to imagine she could speak for a black woman when the white woman couldn't (by definition) have experienced some of the episodes the black mother did. . . I do have concern about the perspective, however, as presumably, it is projection. I sit here asking myself if this story challenges white supremacist norms and consciousness by taking the reader inside this situation - or if it perpetuates white supremacist norms and consciousness in a subtle, complex way.” 

I am a white woman saying I find Aibileen and Minny complex. Is that because my lens only allows certain options for black women, and Stockett's characters happened to fit just so into my view?


No doubt will I be challenged again when (I say when, not if) my novel HOW WENDY REDBIRD DANCING SURVIVED THE DARK AGES OF NOUGHT is published. In my novel a white girl and a black girl befriend one another in 2010. I'd like to think that's not such a rare event, but in Chapel Hill, NC, I wouldn't call it "common." Let's try "possible,"which is better than "unlikely" but not as good as "common."


I'll admit that THE HELP frustrated me sometimes. I don't know if the writing felt weak in places due to structural flaws or more because of issues with character development, but I did want to ask if Skeeter really was that clueless about the danger she embraced. Maybe I should chalk her obliviousness up to youthful idealism and the absolutely distinct worlds blacks and whites lived in back then, that she would rush so headlong into an expose of abuse of black domestics that was rampant in 1960s Jackson, Mississippi society.


Then I remember what I used to be like, embarking on my first years of teaching, assuming as a young white woman in a diverse school that all my students were similar and that together, we could easily learn and grow. That I could treat all students exactly the same (my same, remember) and expect the same results. I also remember the boy I began this post with, the one who couldn't see that our society still has any true inequality whatsoever, and that if any does exist, it's merely because of some lack the will, drive, and sweat. Like it or not, we who are white walk in a world where we are the background, the default, the mainstream. As author Marcia Mount Shoop writes in her post, "Waking Up White," those of us who are Caucasians aren't truly ready to deal with our race:

"We don’t have time to think about and talk about whiteness.  We’ve got better things to do; and perhaps, less disruptive things to do.  It is more comfortable to reach out to the people who are less fortunate to us than for white middle/upper class people to name how we are complicit in the systems of racism. 

Indeed, whiteness is an intimidating thing to think about in this country.  If we think about whiteness, that means we have to think about blackness, too. More to the point, if we think about whiteness then we have to think about how we benefit from the racism that whiteness helped to create."

In my story, a black girl named Tanay talks about how white people always need to be "the entree." If you're always the star of the show, and that's your norm, and as that celebrity you are relatively safe and secure in your societal status, why would you meditate on the race that brought you that privilege?


Class must inevitably be part of this discussion, too. The boy who questioned racism in today's society was sitting in the classroom of an upper middle-class, suburban school, and I, his teacher, am the product of a similar background. Just like Skeeter.


Stockett writes an apology and an explanation at the close of THE HELP. She titles it, "Too Little, Too Late." I disagree. Every story is something, an effort to tell our truths and bring struggles to the light. You tried, Stockett, and you succeeded in reminding us of past anguish and horror. Skeeter would be 70 today, and last time I checked, that's still within the realm of white women's life expectancy. That past is not yet dead.


Aibileen and Minny with worse odds against them--the stress of potential violence, the humiliation from employers, unchecked racism, and poverty, would not be so likely to make it to 70. They might not still be alive, but their children would be. Their past is not yet dead.


Stockett seems well aware she rode into this publishing fray on the same horse of benefits I can claim, too: enough food and safety to grow up confident, enough love to grow up happy, and enough belief in self, that one's words should be heard and can indeed help. How about time to write?


Of course there's an amazing family in my back story and so many other heroes who light my way; I don't discount these facts. Yet I will not ignore that particular intersection of race and class helping Stockett and me get here, or wherever we believe we deserve to go. We had lots of help along the way.


 P.S. I'm headed to see the movie this weekend and even more intrigued to see another way of telling this story after some very interesting reviews by Entertainment Weekly critic Owen Gleiberman--"Is The Help a condescending movie for white liberals?" and Professor Melissa Harris-Perry's assessment (MSNBC interview and tweets while watching the movie).


Writing and Discussion Prompts:


-- Does THE HELP help? Why or why not?
-- Does Stockett walk well in others' shoes? Where does she succeed? Where does she miss the mark?
-- When you have used the word "racism" in a sentence recently, how did you use it? Record that sentence, then define racism.
-- What events in American history to you illustrate the story of racism in the United States?
-- In his interview of Professor Harris-Perry, Lawrence O'Donnell asks about artistic judgment. As a work of art, does THE HELP offer us redemption, realism, and art? What criteria do you use when judging literary works?
-- Are some points of view off limits for certain groups? Or should we all write from any point of view?
-- What points of view do you need to understand better? Which points of view do you not want to understand better? Which ones will you trying walking in?

Sunday Truce

In my favorite TV show that we're following on DVD, The Wire, gangsters from both sides of Baltimore agree that whatever you do, you don't shoot someone up on a Sunday.

Then Barksdale's crew violates this rule. Omar, a gangster with his grandma on his arm, is in the sights of two incompetent henchmen. They call for permission to fire, and a distracted gang leader, in the middle of a mob meeting, gives the go-ahead. It's slipped his mind that it's Sunday.
Image found here.

They shoot Grandma's Sunday hat--her "crown"--right off her head. Omar's last-second dive, shoving her into a taxi, saves her. Except for some cuts and bruises, Grandma survives.

But the one rule the gangs held sacred--that one point of trust--is now broken among the gangs. All agree: what the Barksdale crew did was beyond the pale.

You don't do that kind of business on Sunday.

I've failed the Sunday truce. Writers need a Sabbath, and lately, I struggle to find it. I'm talking about the ability to stop, rest, and cease and desist from picking at your manuscript.

Before I took a vacation, I sent my agent a draft of the novel, showing my efforts to address some issues. I knew this draft wasn't perfect, but I had to submit it. I couldn't sleep at night thinking I would just head off into vacation and just, well, you know, relax.

That would be wasting time. That would be less than diligent, focused, goal-oriented. Right? The rest of the world is busy pursuing passions. What are you, some kind of dilettante?

Agents need more than a few days to read a manuscript; you aren't the only client, nor is reading manuscripts the only thing they do. I knew that, and understood when I returned from my brief vacation she would need a little more time. The problem was, I suddenly could spot a bunch of problems in my story--problems I would have seen if I had been patient and let the manuscript sit while I did the impermissible, relax.

But what if someone else publishes my idea before me? What if by the time I finish, My Moment has passed? What if, if, if, if?

Here's what Seth Godin says about wasting time. And here's what former agent and children's author Nathan Bransford says about distractions.

In short: waste time and be distracted. Good authors do this and the writing soars because of it.

I took this manuscript back and asked for more time. My agent was willing to read it right then, but I said, No, I must make it better. With my typical zeal and impatience I dove back in.

A number of problems are fixed now--I'll give myself that. But this tendency to dodge the quiet spaces in my writing life...this is something I must look at. There's a bearing down, a gritting of teeth, a self-flagellation that isn't any part of the joy of writing.

What's that I've said before? Huh?

If a tree falls...?... Go super-slo-mo until it's time...?

Breathe. Wander away from words and say, "It is what it is now--and it will be something different someday."

The dark side of passion is perfectionism. Zeal can lead to beautiful phrases and pages as well as neurosis, obsession, and single-mindedness.

Next Sunday, I'm going to church. I'm going to a movie. I'm going to slow down, back off, and let the mind wander away from the work that will always be there.


Writing Prompts:

-- Where in your life are you most impatient? Where do you bear down, stress out, demand things be immediate, chop, chop?
-- Write about a time where impatience or patience served you well. Write about a time where it did not.
-- If you were raising a five year-old, an eight year-old, a 13 year-old, and a 17 year-old, what advice about patience would you give each? When should one be patient, and why?
-- Is impatience ever a virtue?
-- What is your Sabbath? Where does rest enter your life each week? How do you protect it?
-- Do you rest too little or too much?
-- In your writing, are you a Mozartian or a Beethovian?
-- In your favorite story or novel, which character is fueled by endless energy, impatience, or excessive devotion to work? What type of journey does this character take, and what kind of end results? Is there a moral to this story about patience, work, and rest?