Every now and then I revisit this old film I watch with my grandmother. It's been like a tradition between us; whenever it was on television we'd stop whatever we were doing and watch it all the way through. Perhaps inspired by a myriad of things, I've been thinking lately about measures of "blackness", whatever that may mean, in relation to the question "how much should a person's race or ethnicity determine how fully she can live her life?"
In Sarah Jane's time it mattered a lot.
And yet, in the end she found her ill-gotten freedom wasn't worth the cost. Thank G-d I live in a time in which I can be myself and be Black, without having to choose.