Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Thoughts in a Theater: Owning "Our" History

          Reading through blog posts over the past month or so, I was happy to see how many of us have seen 12 Years a Slave. So must of us understand the movie’s subject material and have felt moved by it, described it, and recommended it as honest, necessary, tough, thought-provoking, etc. However, I am curious to know if others had a similar viewing experience as I did. About a month ago, a friend and I decided to see it on a Friday night. Naturally, it was packed early on, and we found two seats in the very front section. As it has been all semester, this class came into mind as I looked around the dimming theater and saw mostly African American faces. There seemed to be a group of ladies sitting directly behind us as well.
            As much as I would have liked it to been, the theater did not stay quiet for long. At certain points in the movie, the audience would collectively gasp, clap, yell, and holler at the screen at the extremely emotional scenes…even at some points, I believe, that were inappropriate to encourage. For example, when Northup is building a wooden structure and comments that if it was done wrong, there was something wrong with the instructor, the overseer attempts to physically punish him. And, rightfully so, Northup defends himself. However, as the fine line between self-defense and violence may have been crossed (as Northup continues to violently beat and kick the supervisor), most of the audience cheered him on. This fact stuck with me more than the scene had to offer, as did the ladies behind me.
            One lady decided to voice her opinions throughout the entire film, and naturally, a few surrounding her were not happy. As another woman directly on my left turned and politely asked her if she could quiet down, that she was disturbing others trying to watch, the lady responded with, “I can say whatever the hell I want—I ain’t a slave no more.” She was black, and the woman in front was white.

            This was one of the major points of discussion with my friend as we exited the theater. How much of the past can today’s African Americans take ownership? Can I own that history just as much, as it is a part of my history as well? How many years go by if this “ownership” varies with time…i.e., Civil War vs. Civil Rights? Just a few thoughts…

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