The Barber Of Little Rock

Every year, Oscar voters consider a series of short documentaries most of which focus on social issues and what’s wrong with the world. The Barber Of Little Rock does that, but it also looks at one man’s efforts to do something about it.

The barber, Arlo Washington points out, has long been a community figure whom people turned to when they needed advice or support. (Historically, barbers often carried out minor surgery, which required some education, though not necessarily formally acquired). As a barber himself, and the owner of his own business, he was seen as somebody who had done well for himself, and so one day he was approached with a request for a loan. He provided the money, not really expecting to get it back, but it did come back, and when he made a subsequent loan to the same person, that was returned, too. It got him thinking about what it means to have access to credit, and about the degree to which that access depends on race.

When slavery officially ended in the US, formerly enslaved people were famously promised 40 acres and a mule; they got neither. Generational poverty has persisted ever since. It is, the film states at the outset, a trillion dollar problem. But it’s not just about what happened in the past; it’s about how African Americans are treated now. Banks use red-lining to rule out making loans to people from certain areas, and those frequently correspond with Black neighbourhoods. Maps are shown here to illustrate how this applies in Little Rock, where the I360 marks a stark dividing lines between the haves and have-nots.

Driving around the community provides a still more cogent illustration. White neighbourhoods are in good condition and one doesn’t have to go far to spot numerous banks. Black neighbourhoods are full of homes in a state of disrepair – but often with well tended gardens, making it clear that this isn’t due to a lack of care – and we don’t see any financial institutions; one would, Arlo says, be hard pressed to find an ATM. But there is, now, one source of help. in 2008, the same year that he opened Washington Barber College, Arlo launched non-profit loan foundation People Trust.

The camera sits in on some of the cases it handles: ordinary people explaining their circumstances, why they want loans, and how they plan to pay them back. Some are in desperate situations. The patient staff do what they can to provide meaningful help, and the look in those people’s eyes tells us that it is the first time that anyone has ever taken care of them like this. Others are ambitious, in search of opportunity. They outline their business plans and make what would, under any circumstances, be very good cases for investment.

Being able to access just a few hundred dollars turns lives around, enabling people to lift themselves out of poverty. “There has to be economic warriors in the community to create economic justice,” Arlo says. He’s not the first African American person to think like this, of course, and though the film does not elaborate on the history of such efforts, it makes room for him to express his concerns. He’s aware that this kind of action threatens the balance of power, and that powerful people don’t usually take that kind of thing lying down. He’s expecting trouble. Perhaps this film is a sort of insurance policy, making his work visible to the world so that the world might notice if he finds himself in need of help.