Showing posts with label prejudice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prejudice. Show all posts

Friday, December 25, 2015

Dining on Integrated Turkey



We all get busy with other things at this time of the year, don't we? Sometimes to the exclusion of things we really want to do as opposed to those things that we feel we must do or that we feel obligated to do. Funny thing about obligations. People don't always put a priority on the right one.

Well, yesterday (Christmas Eve) was such a day for me. I got busy with other things and entirely neglected to write about something that I have been intending to write about — a special Christmas episode of the Bewitched television series that premiered 45 years ago yesterday.

Better late than never, I suppose.

It was called "Sisters at Heart," and the story was written by some two dozen black high school students in South Los Angeles after they paid a visit to the Bewitched set at the invitation of series star Elizabeth Montgomery and her director and husband William Asher. It dealt with racism and prejudice at a time when that was rarely addressed on television.

It was about a black co–worker of Darrin's (who was played by this time by Dick Sargent) and his family. The co–worker was about to leave on a business trip, and his wife was going with him. They were going to leave their daughter with the Stephenses while they were away, and they brought her over to the Stephens home prior to their departure.

That was terrific as far as Tabitha (Erin Murphy), the Stephenses' daughter, was concerned. The two girls were friends, and Tabitha liked the idea of having a sister, albeit temporarily. Tabitha, as children do, latched on to the idea and started telling people that she and her house guest were sisters. Her friend played along with the game.

Anyway, while the other girl and her parents were in the house, another visitor dropped by. He was the owner of a toy company, and Darrin had been trying to win his advertising account. The visitor's unannounced arrival was deliberate; the goal was to find out if Darrin had any secrets he wanted to conceal.

Samantha was busy with her youngest child when he arrived so he only met the wife of Darrin's colleague, her daughter and Tabitha. Tabitha's friend told the visitor (Parley Baer) that she and Tabitha were sisters. Based on their brief conversation, his assumption was that it was a biracial marriage. It turned out he was a racist, and he wanted Darrin removed from the account.

Tabitha also told a child in the park that she and her friend were sisters, but the child told her they couldn't be sisters because their skin colors were different. Tabitha decided to resolve that and cast a spell on the two, giving them polka dots. When Samantha discovered what Tabitha had done, she insisted that Tabitha reverse the spell, which she tried to do but could not. The reason why was unclear until Samantha deduced that Tabitha didn't really want to reverse the spell because she wanted the two girls to remain sisters.

When Samantha explained to the girls that they didn't have to look alike to be sisters, Tabitha was able to reverse the spell.

The spell, of course, blew the cover on the Stephens family secret about Samantha and Tabitha being witches — but only to Tabitha's friend, not her parents or the owner of the toy company.

At a Christmas party at the Stephens house, Darrin's boss told him that the owner of the toy company wanted him removed from the account. During the party, the owner of the toy company realized his mistake, that it was not a biracial marriage, and he told Darrin's boss (David White) that it was OK for Darrin to work on the account after all.

When Samantha learned why Darrin had been rejected initially, she decided to teach the toy company owner a lesson and cast a spell on him. He saw everyone in the house as black — himself included when he looked in the mirror.

On Christmas Day, he returned to the Stephens home. The black family was visiting, and the toy company owner apologized to them all for his bigotry and expressed remorse for his racism.

His apology was accepted, and he was invited to share Christmas dinner with them. "We're having integrated turkey," Samantha told him, "white and dark meat."

Montgomery said it was her favorite Bewitched episode, and it isn't hard to understand why. Bewitched was about dealing with prejudice — the prejudice of the mortal world against the wiccan one — and Montgomery opened and closed the episode by telling the audience the episode "was created in the true spirit of Christmas ... conceived in the image of innocence and filled with truth."

In Bewitched, witches were a put–down minority. But all minorities are not — pardon the pun — created equally.

I suppose racism and wiccaphobia (if such a word exists) aren't entirely comparable. I mean, one can't easily conceal one's race — the way, for example, one can conceal (although not always easily) one's sexual orientation. Consequently, I guess wiccaphobia has more in common with homophobia than racism — Bewitched often proved as much in the characters' efforts to hide Samantha's wiccan abilities.

But the argument can be made that prejudice is prejudice, whether it is on the basis of things that are seen or things that are unseen (or, perhaps, assumed).

Precisely because prejudice and bigotry were hardly ever addressed on TV before 1971, when All in the Family made its debut and made social relevance a key component of TV, "Sisters at Heart" was almost unique in its approach to its topic. Ironically, in these politically correct times, it would probably be viewed as insensitive if it premiered today because some of the characters appear in blackface.

As it so often is with political correctness, that is a classic case of failing to see the forest for the trees.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

The Birth of Atticus Finch



"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what."

Atticus Finch
"To Kill a Mockingbird" (published July 11, 1960)

Great books and plays eventually wind up on the big screen.

From ancient scribes to modern writers have come great literary works that have produced brilliant tales, admirable heroes and detestable villains.

Half a century ago today, such a book — Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" — was published. And, although it told a story to which most people could relate, I have always felt that it had a special significance for people who were raised in the South.

For it told a tale of the prejudice that the American South still struggles to overcome, of a white lawyer who was called upon to defend a black man accused of raping a white woman. It was a story of honesty and integrity, of coming of age amid terrific economic anguish and severe cultural growing pains.

Still a timely message, wouldn't you say?

Lee herself (still alive, by the way, at the age of 84) has said that the movie that was based on her book is "one of the best translations of a book to film ever made."

And I'm inclined to agree with her. So, too, is the American Film Institute.

AFI ranked the movie 25th on its Top 100 list and first among courtroom dramas.

AFI also felt that "To Kill a Mockingbird" was the second–most inspiring film of all time.

And when it comes to heroes, no film hero — not Indiana Jones or James Bond or anyone else — nor any of the actors or actresses who portrayed the great heroes of film history ranked higher than Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch. Not even Gary Cooper, who played heroic characters frequently.

So if Lee was satisfied with the film version of her book, that's good enough for me. Not that I needed her endorsement. I've read the book and I've seen the movie.

I still believe that books are almost always better than movies. That one certainly was. But both the film and the book were remarkable — and certainly worth revisiting a number of times.

The story was semi–autobiographical, but Lee changed the names of the people in her story. It's important to keep in mind that she wasn't telling a fictionalized account of an actual event. Rather, she was taking inspiration from real people and events. Some of the characters were composites of people she knew. Others were inspired by people and events far from her home.

I don't think she created the character of Atticus with Peck in mind. In fact, I think Atticus was inspired by Lee's father, an attorney who unsuccessfully defended two black men accused of murder years before Lee was born.

But today, nearly 50 years since the making of the film, Gregory Peck is Atticus Finch in our collective minds. He was a great actor, and he played many great roles, but it is almost as if he was born to play Atticus Finch.

If Lee's father was anything like Atticus Finch, he must have defended his clients with an eloquence that one normally doesn't expect from Southerners — and that apparently failed to sway the jurors. But I suppose, being a Southerner herself, Lee knew only too well how wrong that stereotype was.

Indeed, the character of Atticus may well have been the first time that people outside the South had entertained the notion that there were any whites in the South who were not racists — at least minimally.

The racism that was presented in the book (and later the movie) was somewhat stereotypical by modern standards. It certainly isn't representative of the South today. But it isn't meant to be. It is a portrait of the South that existed nearly eight decades ago.

But there has been a price to be paid — albeit a ridiculous one — for its realistic depiction. Mark Twain encountered the same thing with his book about Huckleberry Finn in the 19th century.

In their blind pursuit of political correctness, some school districts in the United States and Canada have banned Lee's book for its use of the so–called "N word." Many of those same school districts, I have no doubt, were behind similar moves against the story of Huck Finn, completely ignoring the fact that the "N word" was part of the accepted language of the time.

(That isn't meant as a defense of that word. It is only meant as an explanation for why the word is used as much as it is in both books. It was the word my grandparents used because that was the word people of their generation used to describe the members of a particular racial group. Around the time of my parents' generation, the word of choice seems to have become "Negro."

(By the time I came along, the socially acceptable word was "black" — which is the word I still use today whenever it is necessary. Some of my friends have taken to using the phrase "African–American," which seems a little imprecise to me. We have other hyphenated ethnic groups, of course, but the hyphens in those instances link nationalities, not continents. It would be more precise, in my opinion, to hyphenate American with the nation of origin — but that kind of documentation is hard to come by.

(For that matter, I must confess, "black" never seemed adequate to me, either, because I knew very few people when I was growing up whose skin could truly be said to be black. Most were brown.)
"Surely it is plain to the simplest intelligence that 'To Kill a Mockingbird' spells out in words of seldom more than two syllables a code of honor and conduct, Christian in its ethic, that is the heritage of all Southerners. To hear that the novel is 'immoral' has made me count the years between now and 1984, for I have yet to come across a better example of doublethink."

Harper Lee
Letter to the editor in Richmond, Va., 1966

Students in school districts where both "Mockingbird" and Twain's tale of Finn's adventures are available should be grateful they have access to these literary gems that paint such a vivid picture to remind us of how far we have come — and how far we still must go.