As was expected, director Lee Daniels' "Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire," garnered Academy Award nominations in every category it could, led by the powerful performances of comedienne Mo'Nique and newcomer Gabourey Sidibe, who take us in to a world of urban strife, grief (and eventually) fractured triumph.

But as enjoyable as many agree the film was, there's another school of thought I keep hearing about from those uncomfortable with yet another movie about "po' black people," a perspective that expounds the frustration with black folks "showin' their teeth." Many argue that "Precious" does little more than further perpetuate negative stereotypes about lower income blacks, particularly black women.

And it's a great discussion to have. I mean, once a generation, there's always the Negro intelligentsia argument over a particular piece of film or television, featuring black folk, that it doesn't show us in the best light. In the '50s, it was "Amos and Andy," in the '70s it was "Good Times," and now after the turn of the century, it's "Precious."

But my question is this: who anointed a Black Knights of Standards and Practices to determine what is suitable for black consumption?

When I was a kid, many parents did not let their children watch "Good Times." Their feeling was that our children didn't need yet another image of poor, downtrodden black people who couldn't catch a break. Truth is, at least some of the cast and writers of that show felt the same way. That continued the debate, which had been going on at least since the days of W.E.B. DuBois, on what our image is supposed to be.

During the Harlem Renaissance, black folk seemed to try to assimilate in to a dignified western look and speech pattern, as was the rest of the world in those days. As our art became wildly popular during the '40s and '50s through the spread of jazz and bebop music, we identified with it and society identified it with us. By the '70s, the Black Identity movement had caused us to cast off earlier preconceptions of what blackness is and for the first time in our history we had a thirst to determine our own image: black people created by black people was an important social construct. (Both Nina Simone and Lena Horne were drop dead gorgeous).

So as I sat in a friend's home watching "Precious," the debate emerged about whether Daniels' work does more harm than good. My response was: Define harm and define good. There's no avoiding the reality of the movie's subject matter. It was strong, unforgiving, abrasive and nowhere near as graphic as the book from which it is adapted.

Second, since when is dysfunction an exclusively black thing? Any social worker will tell you the abuses seen in "Precious" cross the racial and economic spectrum. Sexual abuse and child neglect can easily be found in a white, Hispanic, Native American, Asian, South Asian or Middle Eastern homes, just like it can be found in a black home. The statistics would shock you.

Third, let's not act like there are no movies based on white characters that depict the same thing. The 2003 film "Monster" earned actress Charlize Theron a Best Actress Oscar for her performance in a role far more savage than Mo'Nique's.

Is there an overabundance of movies that portray us in a poor light? Do we not get enough media that places us in a positive perspective? Perhaps, but that is dictated by how we spend our money. I remember the 1997 release of two films targeted at black audiences. The acclaimed date flick "Love Jones," with Larenz Tate and Nia Long made about $3 million on its opening weekend. Conversely the goofy film "Booty Call," with Jamie Foxx and Vivica A. Fox came out the same month and made $8 million its opening weekend.

That indicates that if we spend our money on so-called "positive movies," they will get made. If we spend our money on violence and sex, that's what will get made. So far "Precious" has grossed $45 million at the box office. At least some of that is from the black dollar.

I never thought Tyler Perry's movies were cinematic masterpieces, but as a businessman, he has proven that black people will spend their money on things other than the "Booty Calls" of the world, if you package it right. He has made about $390 million with his films alone. Madea might be ghetto, but she certainly ain't 'hood.

Lee Daniels is the first black director to have a film nominated for Best Picture. He is only the second black director nominated for an Oscar at all, the first being John Singleton for 1991's "Boyz 'N The Hood." That film, as thoughtful and well-made as it was, exhibited the worst in stereotypes of black males, but not before grossing $57 million.

Now I'll admit, there's no telling how much of the black dollar gets spent on these films, but we spend $2.8 billion on entertainment and leisure, according to Target Market News. That means some of this money we spend goes to the very things we complain about.

What's my point? Daniels has said that he did not make "Precious" particularly for white audiences. He knew to whom he was speaking, and he is not an unintelligent man. The film was not adapted so that urban poverty could be sugarcoated; that would have been a worse insult. He also doesn't pretend to offer solutions either, because a film shouldn't. All "Precious" does is tell the story of real people living real lives the way the rest of us do every day.

No, I didn't grow up in a household like "Precious," but I know girls who did. We all have at least a little dysfunction within one or two degrees of separation of ourselves. If we want solutions to the types of issues portrayed in the movie, then it takes looking at ourselves in the mirror - realistically - then choosing to do better.

Hiding from our dirty laundry rather than actually cleaning it will not help at all.