WHEN I WAS A SMALL BOY, I hated a bunch of things. Granted, most of them were food based. I hated tuna, broccoli, peas, grapefruit, and the school crossing guard who used to make fun of me. Back then the word “hate” was my go-to word; I did not fully comprehend how strong of a word was “hate.” It was nothing for two friends or neighborhood kids to tell the other they hated them for something they did or did not do. Whenever in a conversation with my friends about students in our classes or in school, it was not unusual for me to share my hatred of the students who wronged me in some way. My method of dealing with kids who I hated was to maintain my distance from them. I figured the less they saw of me the better off I would be. To be invisible, I had to make sure I never drew attention to myself; whether laughing or talking too loudly or spending too much time at my locker talking to a friend. The key was to keep moving with the flow of kids as much as possible. And the most important thing I had to make sure I was doing was to go right home from school, to never linger outside of the school’s exits in case a bully or antagonist was leaving the same time as me.      THANKFULLY, THE SCHOOLS I ATTENDED DID an excellent job of teaching me all the aspects of “hate” and how strong of a word it could be. We saw and read examples of hatred, with the books we read, the movies we watched and the archived newspaper articles we viewed on microfilm. Seeing what humans did to other humans was frightening. Whether it was during a war or from a group or individual, I found all of it so disturbing and appalling that I realized I was using the word “hate” incorrectly. It became my goal to never or rarely use the word “hate” when I was saying or describing something to someone. To be honest with you, this promise was a challenge because I experienced forms of hatred early on in my schooling. Encountering people who hate you without even knowing or talking to you was so confusing to me. The trend continued when I finished school and found myself marching for causes that were important to me and witnessed hatred that was near flammable, it was so vile.  Some of it was in the same vein as what was shown in this biographical crime drama.      THOUGH THE STATE OF MISSISSIPPI IS not that far from Chicago, Illinois; back in 1955 they were a world apart. Visiting his cousins in Mississippi required knowing how to act by Mississippi’s standards, something Emmett Till’s, played by Jalyn Hall (Bruiser, The App that Stole Christmas), mother knew all too well which explained her hesitation on letting him go. His trip would facilitate a change throughout the country. With Danielle Deadwyler (The Harder They Fall, The Devil to Pay) as Mamie Till-Mobley, Frankie Faison (Do the Right Thing, I’m Your Woman) as John Carthan, Haley Bennett (The Magnificent Seven, The Girl on the Train) as Carolyn Bryant and Whoopi Goldberg (Sister Act franchise, King of the Dancehall) as Alma Carthan; this film had a strong affect on me. Maybe because we are coming up to the anniversary date of Emmett’s date of death and the government just recently designating a national monument honoring him, I was glued to the story being depicted. Also, Danielle Deadwyler’s acting was outstanding and tragic at the same time, absolutely amazing. It was not easy watching several scenes in this movie; the amount of hate on display was startling and tragic. Everything came together, such as the sets, costumes, and direction to create a beautiful, sad movie about a mother’s worst nightmare.

3 ½ stars