We saw the movie over the weekend, sad times for the maids and cooks that literally raised children and did everything else so rich white women could pretend to be something in their social circles and spend days getting their hair and nails done to do so.
I’ve only felt like “the help” once in my life. I spent three summers working at a summer resort and the residents were downright mean. I was working for $.43 per hour, around the clock seven days a week and taking guests around in a car and hate letters were written that I had the nerve to drive a car. It was the only way to get everything done. This was before computers so I had to write everything by hand.
When I finally got home a reception would be going on for the guest of the day and I’d have to help serve hors d’oeuvres or help in the kitchen. I chose the kitchen. Guests would escape the party and come in for a glass of water for a few moments and we’d chat. That was the only escape.
Wishing the summer to be over and for me to be back at college learning something and being a peer was what kept me going, knowing I was earning practically nothing towards what I had to pay for my education but living in the middle of no-where it was the only choice I had.
I’ve seen “The Help” twice, once in the theater, and cry every time as I know all too well that sense of helplessness that these good women feel. When one “class” subjugates another, righteousness must prevail.
Since college I’ve worked for the underdog, whether it be shelter/stray dogs and cats, young people needing an education, or just being kind to a grocery clerk or security guard. Ask them, the pets will just lick my hand, the others know me by name. Be kind to someone today, Dee
Cooking with Dee 