Let’s say it’s simply a song from a life
Filled with waves of acrimony or fans,
Possibilities and flat tires, the fife,
The drum, the screams. Let it be: the black man
Playing British rock. Listen to cassettes
Of the hippest young girls rewind Get Back
A thousand times. The Beatles bayonet
Tradition, man. These boys are what we lack
As men: hearts to sing shadows over gods.
Say the hair is half the act, half in lieu
Of soul. Billy Preston evens the odds
On keys and attitude. If the venue
Calls this noise, then lift the afro higher.
If not, then play and set the joint on fire.

 
                                              D. W. Griffith

What’s amazing to me, is the response from Negroes
To my film. For my entire life I’ve treated
Them like family. It would be like harming
My own children to think, for a minute,
That I’d exploit them. In fact, I’ve always seen
Them as my children and my responsibility,

Of sorts. With the backlash, the only responsible
Thing for me to do, is to address the Negro,
To let him know that what he may see
As insulting at first glance should be accepted as a treat—
A sort of gift, if you will—a minute
Later. You must know I mean them no harm.

Although seen as an organization to bring harm
To certain parts of our society, the main responsibility
Of the Ku Klux Klan—seen, sadly, today as a minute
Service—was not so much to police the Negro
As to protect the white woman from the threat
The northerners—carpetbaggers, and all--didn’t see:

The southern belle with her purity and manners is seen
Much like a magnolia tree on a landscape: no harm
Can thrive where this much peace grows. To treat
Her as a tool in lascivious hands, warrants a response.
No one can be allowed to blemish her, Negro
Or white man. I can no longer entertain the minutia

About the Klan’s place in history, not for a minute.
I remember as a child my mother would have sewn
Several robes for the Klan in an afternoon. The Negro
Was not on her mind; her concern was the harm
That would come to us all. This film is a response
To that need for safety, and a way to treat

The confederate army, not as a threat
To a Union, but as heroes to the women and men it
Represented, Americans. I felt a responsibility
To my father and those men who gave their lives to show
Their loyalty to this country. After all, what’s the harm?
We also see in the film, serving in uniform, the Negro.

Allow me to expound a bit further: the Negro
In Union uniform fighting white men is a threat
That can only bring, to the country we all love, harm.
Do you really think we can survive for even a minute—
North and South, together as one—without seeing
Intolerance rising up against history. And what’s our response?

Reconstruction? We’ve seen difficulties because it’s been treated
As a minute symptom and not as the harmful effect of war
On the Negro and nation: a responsibility too great for either to bear.

 

                                                                          Oscar Micheaux

When I think about the study of art,
It’s a house built out of respect,
With doors wide open. Once, I spoke to the world
Through my novels, but now I fear
That people have found a new seductress:
Mr. Griffith has created a dangerous film

And a house with many locks. As I see film,
It should do what a novel does—use art
To unfold fists—but also seduce
Us into action. Well, with all due respect,
Griffith’s hands carry an agenda: Fear,
Which will separate people and cripple the world.

Since the Civil War, an underworld
Has developed in the south; this film
Is as much a tool wielded to strike fear
As it is a Confederate sword presented as art.
Any rogue can carry a gun to gain respect;
Any pedophile offers candy to seduce

Children. Will we allow Griffith to seduce
America into another Civil War? Our worlds
Are not so far apart that a modicum of respect
Should be so hard won. Watching his film
Is like watching America burn. The art
The president commented on strikes fear.

“Writing history with lightning,” he said. Terror
With a camera, I say. The spectacle might seduce,
But the aftermath, after the lights come up, is not art.
At the premier in LA, I thought about our worlds
Converging; those weren’t actors in hoods from the film,
Those were real Klansmen in regalia. How do I respect

This as an aesthetic choice, when no respect
For the Negro is shown on or off screen, only fear
Fomented by Griffith’s efforts? If this is the power of film
Then the Negro needs to learn to seduce
America into a true union, one not fought in a World
War, but unity won in theaters through this new art.

Respect is a light shining on the Negro, seducing
America out of fear and into a new image of our world.
I maintain: Film can capture our lives and make out of it, art.