Being black, and knowing many black people whose experiences mirror my own, it may be safe to say that frank discussions about sex are not particularly commonplace within black families. I remember my parents signing my Sexual Education permission-slip in the 5th grade, without so much as a word regarding what I would be learning about. And I didn’t ask any questions, either. I guess there was a mutual understanding that everything I needed to know would be discussed in class, by someone who wouldn’t feel uneasy discussing it. Many of us, no doubt, have heard the ubiquitous follow-up parental command of, “You better not bring any babies into this house, because I’m not raising another one.” I would imagine that our parents were thinking, “You’ve had the class, so I don’t have to go into what not to do to prevent that from happening.”
One thing the Penn State case has shown me is that there is much to be learned by our children about inappropriate behavior and how to talk about it. I am a huge proponent of using artistic media such as film and literature to convey important messages to our young people. Not only does it help them stay tuned in to the lessons that we hope they take away, but it also makes for an easier transition into the (sometimes) uncomfortable conversations that are necessary to have.
When I first heard about the Penn State case, I immediately thought about the films I mentioned above. I also remembered reading comments from some Shadow and Act readers who vehemently opposed the depiction of sexual abuse of black characters in film. Some commenters felt that there was enough sadness and despair in the history of black cinematic themes that we just didn’t need anymore.
The thing to remember is that these films tell stories meant to entertain us. The fact that they also can be used as tools of education is an appreciated bonus. I totally understand that the issues of sex and sexual abuse are not the easiest for parents to talk to their kids about. But I think most of us are now aware of how important it is that we do have those conversations. And if black cinema helps us do that, then I think it's imperative that we support these types of films and share them with those we care about.
I implore any parents interested in using the films to begin conversations with their own children, to first view the films without their kids, and determine whether the material is age appropriate. You know your kids better than anybody else, so decide wisely as to when you believe they will be ready for such serious themes.
All of these films should be easily available for purchase or rental online.
S&A readers should be familiar with these three films, but for those who are not, consider this an introduction:
Something Is Killing Tate
Days before his birthday and weeks before his wedding, Tate Bradley, a twenty-five year old, African-American man attempts to commit suicide. He survives the ordeal, but from his actions, it is obvious that "Something is Killing Tate." The question is: "What?" Tate attempts to isolate himself to his apartment - hiding from the world. To his dismay, one by one the significant players in his troubled life come to check on him. With each visit, more is revealed about how each family member, friend, and enemy played a role in Tate's attempted suicide - forcing Tate to face his demons.
Three poor Black kids in rural Mississippi reap the consequences of their family's cycle of abuse, addiction, and violence.
Set in Harlem in 1987, it is the story of Claireece “Precious” Jones, a sixteen-year-old African-American girl born into a life no one would want. She’s pregnant for the second time by her absent father; at home, she m...ust wait hand and foot on her mother, a poisonously angry woman who abuses her emotionally and physically.