Ten Days, Ten Movies, Ten Images: Day 5

I have always lived in integrated neighborhoods. For the first half dozen years of my life, I grew up well-insulated from the prejudices and bigotry of American society. It was only after one of my brother James' friends, who played in our yard and was always welcome in our home, called James the N-word and pretended to his grandmother not to know who my brother was when James finally went to *his* house to play, that I began to see what a cruel and divisive place this world could be. 

I had not even noticed that there were few people of color on television and in the movies. There were "Indians" and "Mexicans" and "Chinese" people in the Westerns we loved (often played by white people, though I was too young to even notice). Every week we watched the elegant and sophisticated Nat King Cole, a rare exception to the silly comics. How we loved laughing at Amos and Andy's hi-jinks, and Rochester sure put "Mr. Benny" in his place! And there was often one of my parents' favorites on The Ed Sullivan Show, singing or dancing or promoting a movie. 

In the next few years of my life, I did start to notice that Mom always called us to watch when there was a black person on TV. I recognized, belatedly, that there were precious few people who looked like me in the films and television shows I loved, and most of those who were there were clowns or performers, talented though they were. I had not yet seen "Gone With the Wind" but I knew that Hattie McDaniel had won a Supporting Actress Oscar for her role as the no-nonsense "Mammy" and I knew that (despite what I later learned was a stereotypical role) she had made history. 

And then came the man, the epitome of class, who made history of his own.

"Lilies of the Field" (1963)
Directed by Ralph Nelson
Screenplay by James Poe, from the novel by William E. Barrett
Image: Sidney Poitier (“Homer Smith”)

Our whole family was gathered around the television on April 13, 1964, enjoying the glamor, the gowns and the speeches. I was 11, so I was old enough to have seen a few of the nominated films.

Finally, the Best Actor category was up, filled with a lot of our favorites: Albert Finney ("Tom Jones"), Richard Harris ("This Sporting Life"), Rex Harrison ("Cleopatra"), Paul Newman ("Hud") and Sidney Poitier ("Lilies of the Field"). 

And then Anne Bancroft said, "The winner is Sidney Poitier..." and our household erupted, shouting and cheering. We were SO happy. I had always loved the movies and now I knew it was possible for *me* to make them. I looked at my mother, and she was crying. Representation matters! 

Amen.