Prom Night In Mississippi

Finally, America has reached social maturity. A politician has been elected to head the great United States of America, recognized for his genetically-endowed abilities, his steady hand and head, his soaring oratorical skills in communicating his vision of a new America, enthusing, alerting, mesmerizing and infatuating the voting population to his promise of a new day dawning.

That his antecedents reflected a racial divide that bitterly coloured society, politics and human rights for three centuries before Barak Obama's ascension to the presidency of the United States became an incidental to the value of the man's perceived attributes. The tide of enthusiasm over his serene presence, his assumed integrity, his glowing optimism, carried the day.

A leader unlike so many others of late, one whose word was to be believed, one whose careful identification of the miseries that plagued his country and his vow to turn the fortunes of America back to its fundamentals of justice, liberty and fairness for all, was believed. Sufficiently so to elevate him in the esteem of his countrymen, and of the watching world.

Now that he is installed and faces the unenviable, monstrously difficult tasks of converting fear, suspicion and failure to trust, hope and success, intrinsic political failures back to basics, pulling his country out of its recession, rescuing its crumbling financial systems, forestalling further job losses, and bringing self-respect back to the country, hope simmers, holding its fragile breath.

Racial equality, by the bye, achieved in the process. Ancient animosities, mistrust, evaporated. A new world of acceptance visualized and brought forward to elevate the discourse, bring people to the recognition of equality of opportunity for all, and the celebration of diversity strengthening the social compact. Pluralism surrendered to the celebrity of unity.

Except, perhaps, in the Mississippi Delta. In Charleston, Tallahatchie County where people adhere to what they know best, where the population honours traditions and customs and advertise the town with a complacent motto: "A Good Place to Live". Why, the famous actor Morgan Freeman lived there, it's where he grew up. And a little bit of him is still there, invested in its future.

Race relations in the U.S. South are nothing like what they were. Integration and understanding and appreciation of the other has made great strides. Mississippi boasts the highest per-capita percentage of black elected officials, police and fire chiefs. In recognition of their capabilities, their professionalism, their trustworthiness. Their place in the greater society.

Which is, without doubt, as it should be. Yet, in Charleston, Mississippi, population 2,100, the good folks who live there are comfortable with two separate senior proms, one for black students, another for whites only. Morgan Freeman has twice offered to pay for a single, integrated prom. His interference was not appreciated. "Tradition is one thing; idiocy is another" he informed the school board.

A Canadian filmmaker, Paul Saltzman, who had first visited the Delta in 1965, as a civil rights worker, recently returned, and persuaded Mr. Freeman to proffer his offer again. Accepted, this time. Mr. Saltzman, and his wife - and co-producer of a film about "Prom Night in Mississippi" - Patricia Aquino, documented the resulting integrated prom. Most of the high school students were in favour of it.

Their parents decidedly were not. While the young people fully agreed that segregation and racism are idiotic, their parents cling to the comfort of those traditions. Lest their daughters be impregnated by black boys. Miscegenation; how utterly dreadful.