THE MAGIC OF BIG MAMA
“You better give your heart to God, cus your ass is mine!” … words that although seem funny, terrorized generations of my family. To hear those 12 words was to know that something serious was about to go down and it would be far from a good time. Whatever you thought you did and got away with? It was over for you.
In the year of 2000, Martin Lawrence brought the character of “Big Momma” to screens everywhere in his comedy Big Momma’s House and in 2005, Tyler Perry did the same with the phenomenon that would become Madea. When Madea came about, everyone made it a point to say that the character of Madea favored my grandmother’s persona. While the masses were just getting introduced to her, we’d already known her all of our lives.
The truth is, much like most things within our culture, while these characters were just being introduced to homes everywhere, they were already major role players in the lives of black families for generations.
In both movies, the role of the grandmother was played by black men, which can be assumed was inspired by their respective childhoods. The almost unique, yet common personality traits of - intimidating but loving, stern yet wildly sarcastic; known for, more often than not being inappropriate in the best ways. My grandmother Geraldine McKnight, or “Gerry” as most would call her, was all of these things and more.
A few weeks shy of what would’ve been her 84th birthday, our family lost our matriarch. Although we'd been preparing for this moment for weeks, it almost seems like nothing can actually prepare you for a loss that great. Without a doubt, you find yourself wondering "What now?" in efforts to understand the new family dynamic given the loss of a major piece.
Grandmothers as a whole are blessings, and that remains undisputed no matter what race or nationality you are. Even more so, black grandmothers have developed a specific persona. They display a playbook of character traits that almost seems as if it took each one to be trained thoroughly for the role.These traits crafted their importance in shaping black culture from generation to generation.
Even the seemingly insignificant details of carrying small strawberry candies with them, and the insistence of wearing lace trimmed ankle socks to practice the love of God each Sunday to know you’d be fed the same dinner after service. Then there’s the way in which they exude the words “messy” and “shade” while remaining unapologetic. They can spend the entire day on the phone gossiping with various family members, while adding a voracious sound of “mhmmm” if the tea was extra juicy. An honorable mention goes to their swift response to beat someone’s ass if it was necessary. These experiences can be attested by those who grew up with their own Gerry.
This is why characters like Madea, Big Momma, and Big Mama from Soul Food, existand are essential to representing cultural icons that are present in black families. Although these grandmothers were used in film as entertaining characters, they were omnipresent actors in black families across the country.
Growing up, I viewed my grandmother differently because of how wildly inappropriate she could be. Gerry cursed like a sailor, made sexual innuendos, and warned that she packed heat in her purse if anyone qualified to test her. However, it wasn’t until the reality of her mortality set in, that I realized parts of her personality had made an impression on my own identity. Gerry, even if not transparent about her love, was deeply caring and spoke boldly. We loved her for how wild the things she said were, and I mean wild!
At my grandmother’s funeral, my cousin gave a speech in which he compared our grandmother to the Statue of Liberty, what she stood for and what many were likely to see when coming into Ellis Island. He referred to the poem engraved at the bottom of her feet which reads “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.” We know that for most within our culture, your grandmother’s house is a place of refuge. It is your home away from home that feels the most like home. There’s always a warm bed and a meal (that’ll surely aid in your future diagnosis of diabetes) but all in all, it’s remained the home base for the broken, the struggling, and anyone else who washed up on it’s shores. Almost seems ironic that the Statue of Liberty was originally modeled after a Black woman .. I think not.
Before these women became our “Grandma’s” they endured more than most of us could ever. They lived in a time where their existence alone was a death sentence, they’ve seen the likes of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, and our first Black President all in one lifetime. They’ve raised whole families - some with a partner and some, without. Having dealt with loss and traumas of their own, remaining the beacon of hope and love within a family.
It is my opinion, that the Black grandmother doesn’t get the attention or credit deserved for the lives that they’ve impacted. It’s why the impact of their loss is so great. Like any loss, you almost never really get over it. Holidays seem incomplete, birthdays are slightly somber, and no matter how hard you try, there’s no replacing the giant missing piece of the puzzle. When we get characters like Madea and Big Momma, we’re given a chance to relish in the magic that we once got the chance to experience while allowing others a look into our world. Depicting the magnitude of the role in which they play in our lives by explaining the source of identity for most of us aides in our growth and understanding of our culture, it’s how we learn to maintain it.
For as much as we love these characters with their portrayal shining a light on our lives; the reality for me will always be that Madea, had absolutely nothing on my Gerry.
Written by Beata Frances. Follow her on https://www.instagram.com/beatafrancis/?hl=en and read more on https://dreamofbee.com/ .
