Race, Poverty and Hope in Three Films About Mississippi
The great state of Mississippi is featured in three films appearing at the Atlanta Film Festival. Likely to the chagrin of many a Mississippian, the films - two documentaries and a narrative - highlight the unfortunate histories and circumstances of race and poverty in the great state of Mississippi. Screening these films recently, I detected many, many themes and similarities that run through all three, enough to write a lengthy thesis paper. Rather than that, I give a few highlights and observations.
Prom Night in Mississippi - As late as 2007, Charleston (Mississippi) High School held two senior proms: One for white students and one for blacks, a practice dating back to the seventies. So why continue holding two proms some thirty years later, especially when the kids think it ridiculous? Actor and Mississippi resident Morgan Freeman proposes holding one integrated prom - even offers to foot the bill - as a means to break out of the segregation era tradition. His first offer in 1997 is turned down; ten years later, it's accepted. Prom Night in Mississippi follows a group of students as they make preparations for the historic prom. The students and parents express their views on race and racism, its place in their generation, and their thoughts on opposition to the prom by some white parents.
Mississippi Damned, a narrative film, does not address the problem of race, but the cycle of oppression that results from lingering poverty in rural areas. Based on writer/director Tina Mabry's own experiences, Mississippi Damned looks at three young people in their child- and adulthood who aspire to leave their small community, but are trapped there due to problems brought on by their family's desperations. One of the three is Kari, who longs to study music in New York. But as poverty, domestic abuse and addiction of several family members' crash in, she faces the inevitable choice of staying to help them or freeing herself.
Race and race relations are major themes in Neshoba and Prom Night. As stated above, there are many in Neshoba County who want to repent, see justice served and show a new and tolerant Mississippi. Then there are those who want a better Mississippi but don't really want to dig up the past: What will it change? asks one interviewee, it's not gonna bring anyone back; can't we just move on without bring all that up? complains another. They are not just uninterested in justice for the murder victims, but don't really want to acknowledge that racial crimes were ever perpetrated. There are those who champion Killen's innocence, but maybe not because of Killen's years as a good citizen and minister, but his openly racist views which they quietly share. Amazing to me is the bitterness of some of the victims' survivors. I understand the anger of one civil rights worker who had a meltdown at Cheney's funeral: That was in the heat of the tragedy. I guess I expected all to bear the same patience and dignity of Goodman's mother and brother and Schwerner's widow, wanting justice but tempered with forgiveness. Instead, they wish harm to Killen - harm him themselves, if they can - and trash talk him on camera. Perhaps I need to wear their shoes to understand their heart ache.
Prom Night reveals that ideas of racism and segregation are still taught to our latest generations, despite this age being more enlightened on those issues than forty years ago. From the well-to-do whites who most oppose the integrated prom (implied; they refused to be interviewed for the documentary) to the self-proclaimed redneck, the idea of racial separation remains a part of home training. The most enthusiastic kids for the integrated prom - black and white - admit that there is little social interaction with classmates of the opposite color, despite having known many since primary school. Some have never even been to their classmates' home. It's seen early in the documentary that it's not the students who want segregated proms, but the parents, primarily out of fear of "mixing races." It's a shame that parents teach their kids to slowly realize that they can't trust their school chums who are of a different color. What's hopeful is that some parents leave the decision of attending the integrated prom to the child. As the redneck observes, he can teach and love his daughter, but there are some things she must learn on her own. The kids interviewed seem to have a mature view on racism, acknowledging its senselessness and denouncing it in all its forms. Time will tell if the lesson of the prom and the kids' personal convictions hold true.
Poverty is no stranger to any race, but its impact on rural African-Americans is well known in Mississippi, and I suspect the problem goes back to the days of sharecropping. Blacks work very hard for little money, find it impossible to save, let alone pay for daily necessities. Unskilled and low educated workers face the possibility of lay-off or dismissal. Many are crushed under the stress and pressure of earning money, and may seek escape in vice or addictive substances and activity; others may seek affirmation through abuse of spouses or children; still others find tenderness in extra-marital affairs or sexual abuse of children. Those actions bring harm to innocents and sinners alike; if not physical damage, there is guilt, self-hatred and negativity that hold the individual back, eventually leading to the same or variation of the behavior perpetrated on them.
Mississippi Damned shows that this side of the poverty picture with frankness, a circumstance that keeps generations under its weight, crushing aspiration and forever damning to lives of misery. Starting in 1986, Kari's family, centered on three sisters, is introduced with all of its vices, domestic issues and financial problems. The children observe and suffer, and ten years later, the very things they saw in their parents begin to manifest in their lives. At the heart of Kari's dilemma is loyalty to family: Would she really take off to New York to play piano when her mother has cancer and her father can't keep the lights on? Would she really hold back the wad of money she's been earning and saving while her folks can't buy medicine? Kari is poised for greatness, or to be provider for her crumbling family. Leave your old life or stay and waste away is the fate of many rural poor. Even with a supportive family, the lack of funds at best leads to compromise: Attend community college instead of the out-of-state university, show your talent at the church instead of at a major exhibit, dream instead of live, and do it while taking a drink.
The filmmakers certainly don't desire to cast a disparaging light on Mississippi, and it would be wrong to say the state is all about racism and poor blacks ruining each others' lives. As heavy as the racial and social problems may be in the films, there is a message of hope. Justice, though delayed, will prevail; in even the most oppressive circumstances of poverty and its social impact, an opportunity for escape will present itself; where racism and separation is learned and reinforced, a generation will question its purpose and opt for a better way to live. It took years for the good in these stories to happen and manifest, and many who suffered and prayed patiently lived to see the triumph come to their descendants. As stubborn as attitudes and conditions are, change will come, and will be enjoyed by the generation with the courage to shake off the past and embrace a new future.
Neshoba screens Saturday, April 18 at 7:30 pm, and Saturday, April 25 at 3:00 pm
Prom Night in Mississippi screens Saturday, April 18 at 12:00 pm.
Mississippi Damned screens Sunday, April 19 at 3:30 pm, and Thursday, April 23 at 1:30 pm.