Hindsight: Hilly Holbrook

On our journey to the east coast a couple of months ago, I packed my bag with novels of mystery and cheap suspense thrill. Aubrie's selection: the current hot pick some argue is on track to hold its own among the library of American classics--The Help, written by Kathryn Stockett.

When I inquired into the plot of this supposed chef d'oeuvre, Aubrie explained: "It's about maids." Somehow that sounded less than riveting to me, though her fingers flipped the pages so madly that it was clear there was something about the book she couldn't resist.

Thus, when her birthday rolled around last month, I decided to end our celebration with a viewing of the film version of this soon to be classic "about maids"---partially because I was confident she would enjoy it, partially because I was so curious to find out what could be so enthralling about such a storyline.

And, I admit that I, too, became wound up in this tale of racial bigotry, rare compassion, and the yearning for social change. While the story tells only a portion of the civil rights era not so long ago in our land, it is certainly one worth watching and reflecting upon as we seek not to forget the prejudices which once stained our land.

On our drive home from the theater, our conversation turned to the principal villain of The Help: Hilly Holbrook, the uppity socialite who would rather run a marathon in high heels than step foot into a bathroom previously used by a black person.

Aubrie commented, "It's interesting how today we see her as so absurd."

That observation stuck with me. Indeed, when we watch films or read stories about white supremacists, we bristle---because we know through hindsight that they are not only misguided but that their views are utterly abhorrent. To spit in the face of black people is not something we simply wag our fingers at. We find it detestable.

There were once many people like Hilly---and worse. And yet today we see her in the film as a caricature of humanity gone wrong. We can't hardly imagine living, breathing people like her in reality.

Because hindsight is 20/20. And we today do not allow such prejudice to run unchecked.

There is a scene in the film when Hilly turns to the equality-desiring protagonist and utters under her breath, "Be careful. There's real racists in this town."

At that comment, the entire audience around us shared a knowing laugh, because they understand that Hilly herself is the real racist of the film.

Rewind the clock half a decade, and that crowded theater could not have joined together in that shared laugh. They would have been divided in their views of white-black equality.

Now, however, after years of seeking to expunge our land of the thinking which corrupted Hilly, we all generally know what should have been clear even in that day of injustice.

But we are not united today in condemning our own contemporary prejudice.

Will we one day also find it unthinkable that people held views favoring abortion? Will Americans crowded into almost any theater across the country hold finally in common the belief that all humans are equal?

Maybe. But sadly not today.