‘Claudine’ Reenforces My Decision To Remain Childfree

 

Claudine film poster which puts James Earl Jones’s name first as opposed to Diahann Carroll.

I watched John Berry’s Claudine for the first time. Despite starring beloved, Tony and Emmy award-winning actress Diahann Carroll as the title character—I was never keen on viewing the film prior. Claudine Price—a single (secretly working) mother raising six children: Charles, Charlene, Paul, Patrice, Lurlene, and Francis on welfare— falls for Rupert “Roop” Marshall, an ignorant garbage man who isn’t exactly reciting poetic sweet nothings. Although unclear on what dissolved Claudine’s past romances— whether due to divorce or death—the glaring reality is that Claudine’s other men left behind their seeds, left their legacies for her, lending no financial, physical, or emotional support. 

Claudine resonates deeply. 

Claudine’s six children from left to right: Francis, Patrice, Charles, Paul, Charlene, and Lurlene. DP: Gayne Rescher.

My late mommy and her five children, my siblings and me.

My own childhood memories revolve around living in a cramped environment (the projects), the lack of positive male figures, and surviving solely on government handouts. The 1990’s welfare system was not that different from the 1974 film's accurate portrayal of the constant surveillance. We too had monthly inspections, kept up a neat appearance (a façade), and answered the social worker’s questions, our mother treated like a criminal on parole. Poverty's psychological and mental weight took a vital toll, rupturing forth my inspiration to not become a part of the ongoing statistic. I pursued art and writing, graduated from two colleges, and also had my own personal struggles—continuous struggles that I could not imagine bringing a child into. I do, however, recall my ignorance regarding sex and having a relationship with an older person who didn’t believe in condoms, a risky situation still pressed onto impressionable young girls and women today. Former classmates and strangers would ask, “do you have kids?” or say “the right one will come along to change your mind.” Or worse, “I thought like you too until I had them.” 

I have a high priority preference for being alone, traveling the world, watching good cinema and television, and seeing my sweet family and friends whenever possible, providing all the valid intimacy my life needs. No other dramas needed. My body is mine. 

The women on Claudine’s bus laugh and joke, implying that Claudine needs to get laid. Sex is not the only pleasurable outlet. Yet, it’s implied as the surefire way to have fun— a stress reliever. DP: Gayne Rescher. 

Patriarchal societies often employ religion—omnipresent entities— as guiding instructions or scare tactics, pushing outdated notions that women are supposed to happily have children, that they’re “blessings from above.” Motherhood’s the intended end goal for her life regardless if she has any nurturing instincts, let alone any extra money or room in her household. After all, the current United States political regime ran on this 1950’s campaign promise that women would be at homes raising the children, not entering the workforce— cat ladies be damned. In my experience, some men deliberately lie and scheme, seeking their own pleasures. There are no dates. No outings. No romance. Just an expectation for sex— the cheapest activity known to humankind. So be it if a child comes along (or any STDs)— a disruption to a woman’s accessibility. My decision has had people calling me unnatural, weird, odd, even selfish for prioritizing peace, art, reading, writing, and seclusion over maternity. 

Claudine speaks the facts of life to Charlene way too late. DP: Gayne Rescher.

Now Claudine’s two eldest children embark on different paths, choosing to either repeat the problematic cycle or end any contributions that could be made in continuing it. The story within a story exposes Claudine’s hypocrisy, her outrageous reactions to both decisions. Unfortunately, Charlene’s destined to mirror her mother’s habits. Her mother has no goals, no real ambitions next to working and acquiring boyfriends and making children. What other options does Charlene believe to exist? First, Charlene tries to sneak out in a scandalous outfit, talking about a boy who has found Islam and renames himself. Next, she returns home drunk, having been out with the same boy and calls herself “nothing.” When Charlene’s pregnancy is revealed, Claudine goes into a wild rage, ripping the top of her daughter’s nightgown, baring her breasts— an uncomfortable moment that borders on sexual assault. A teary Charlene vows to marry the boy— a girl with low self-esteem, no job, no ambitions, limited education, and an underdeveloped brain, her plight almost reminiscent of Just Another Girl on the I.R.T.’s Chantal and Love My Mama’s Leola. Robbed Black girlhood thrusts them into adult roles before they can acquire a first apartment to fully understand themselves as individuals, having no real preparation for mental and emotional health. Chantal and Leola work harder to accomplish their goals. Charlene— a product of a worse time— doesn’t have resources to do the same. 

Charles often snaps at Claudine. DP: Gayne Rescher.

Charles post operation. DP: Gayne Rescher.

On the other hand, a passionate, resilient Charles harbors a great hatred for his mother’s lifestyle, finding an outlet in the Black Panther Party cause and Black politics. He eventually undergoes a vasectomy. Perhaps he can’t understand society’s easygoing acceptance of a mother’s suffering. Or maybe he sees an ingrained possibility that he will someday abandon a woman when she most needs him. As the oldest, he has obviously taken on his mother’s responsibilities by parenting his siblings, roleplaying as a makeshift father instead of a brother, a burden that tends to happen in huge, poor family dynamics. Charles must have felt resentment at being an unpaid babysitter, delaying his own dreams in the process, rarely even getting mothered. Still, an upset Claudine considers Charles’s sterilization a government interference, an experiment hellbent on erasing the race. She believes Black people must honor the sacred privilege of having children, speaking to him rather tenderly as opposed to demonstrating violence as she did with Charlene. Charles’s power to alter his body also shows the autonomy men are allowed to have while women had to ask husbands for permission as though they didn’t know their own minds and bodies. Although close in age, Charlene would have not be given the chance to succeed in preventing reproduction the way that Charles does. 

Roop with Claudine’s children. DP: Gayne Rescher.  

Furthermore, judgmental Roop has three children of his own, three children that he doesn’t see at all, much less look after. Roop too exhibits hypocritical tendencies, blasting Claudine for the amount she has. The reaction bears similarity to how men hate a high sexual body count— a reminder that there’s been others before him. In light of their rudeness, Roop acts kind towards Claudine’s six children and begins to earn their trust by displaying a firm, solid influence. However, the combined weight of the critical welfare system and child support docking his pay causes Roop depression. Fatherhood has become too tough to handle, inclining him to repeat past mistakes—leaving behind children who were counting on him to be different. 

Roop also reminds me of Mr. Postell, a kind-hearted older man that my mother found in the singles newspaper ad. Whenever he came over, Mr. Postell often asked my siblings and I advice regarding her likes and dislikes, even what she valued in a man. One Christmas he gave us individual bags stuffed to the max with our names attached on them. I remembered wishing that she married that generous man. Yet, an overwhelmed Roop leaving Claudine for a while showcases that sometimes instant responsibility can be difficult to handle. Fatherhood is not a one-time, side hustle where a man shows all his polite attentions, hiding away the rest of himself. Parenting is a challenging, everyday effort. Mothers and fathers are raising human beings— not just babies and toddlers. 

Claudine and her youngest daughter Lurlene. DP: Gayne Rescher.

Claudine also paints a vilifying picture on the problems that arises in close knit quarters and stair ladder age children. They’re using vulgar language, inhabiting incestuous curiosities i.e. Charlie saying, “look at Charlene’s breasts,” which a brother shouldn’t be doing or Paul sneaking into the room to uncover the blanket hiding Charlie’s post-operation results. Perhaps their flagrant introduction to sexuality is being housed together day after day, growing up alongside whirlwind hormones, no outlet to explore if not regularly attending school— a situation akin to a disturbing V. C. Andrews storyline. Claudine isn’t necessarily granting them talks and several don’t have a keen interest in education. 

Overall, the blaxploitation Claudine hits home, affirming the rightness in choosing a peaceful seclusion, a decision that my own mother was proud of. It highlights systemic oppression quite well, the dangers of cyclic behavioral patterns, the inaccessibility to healthier foundations. I contribute to the world in other avenues, sharing my legacies through painting, drawing, printmaking, and writing— penning thoughtful essays that connects with certain readers, spreading love via language and compassion. I may not ever become wealthy, but romanticizing poverty or generational trauma or promoting the “children make the life rich” philosophy will never be my cup of tea.