A wrong turn down that street, a drag here, a gun there, an explosion of aggression, and Michael Oher could have been another statistic, another mutable number printed in a newspaper, accompanied by the mug shot of a boy deceased. Oher could have shared the fate of so many like him, mere children who died on the backstreets of the projects because they never had the chance to seek another fate. Oher's salvation was a product of a family's love and a mother's determination. As the credits rolled and I reeled in my seat, I thought about how easy it would have been for the Tuohys to just keep driving, for Collins to complain, or for Leigh Ann to let Michael walk away after that first night. They could have sought the ease of apathy; instead, they chose sacrifice over surrender and saved Oher's life.

The Blind Side also reinvigorates and reminds us of the necessity of mothers, who, by definition, sacrifice, giving up their bodies, their time, and sometimes even their lives for their children. Mrs. Tuohy is a reminder of that. As so many around me stood and praised their mothers for their sacrifice, declaring them a driving force in their lives, I considered my own mother for the first time that day. I'd ignored her that morning, running out of my house in a panic, desperate to get to school before the bell. She'd called out, "I love you."

I didn't respond.

It must have been Leigh Ann Tuohy and Michael Oher who made me walk out of the movie theater and take out my cell phone, a mirror when bathed in the yolky sun. The Blind Side had served as the mirror I couldn't avoid.

So I called my mom.