Open Letter to a Mother at an
Note: This article originally appeared in The Charlotte Observer.
By Lawrence Toppman
Open letter to the mother sitting in front of me at last week’s Cradle 2 the Grave screening:
Your daughter seemed to be about 8 years old,
with her white dress and her hair done up in braids. I wonder
what she thought when the people in this
Did your child get an eyeful when Gabrielle Union stripped down to bra and panties and started a lap dance on a lip-licking hood she was trying to distract?
Was she paying attention when Jet Li broke opponents’ bones with a vivid snap, or when DMX smashed a villain’s head into a cement wall? Did she catch Anthony Anderson mowing people down in a tank? Was she facing front when a nuclear device ate away a man’s face from the inside?
If she was listening carefully, I know she caught all the
crucial dialogue, every grunted
Of course, you can take comfort in the fact that you weren’t alone: I saw more than a dozen kids her age around the theater, all soaking up images that were meant for people about a decade older.
So here’s a tip to everybody: If you’re too cheap, lazy or
clueless to hire a baby sitter when you want to see
If you can’t do that, don’t be surprised if your little girl grows up to be a thug, because you started exposing her to degrading images when she was still in elementary school. And don’t blame society, either. Blame the person you see in the mirror.