Learning from Atticus

I relish in days where I can stay in my pajamas for most of the morning, and read. I find it therapeutic to "let the world take a spin without you for a little while" as my sweet grandmother used to say. From time to time I wonder if I relish in these mornings a little too much. 10:30 and I am still here in my bed, so relaxed and almost done with "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee.

Don't you love classic novels? They are my favorite reads for sure. I remember this book as a reading assignment my sophomore year of high school, but that was nine years ago. And I always get more enjoyment out of reading a book when the desire to do so stems from my own motivation. That's a standard for all things, as you may have realized. Make an unbearable task a mission by creating an underlying principle for you to learn, and it just might become bearable.

Do you remember this book? Atticus Finch, defending the innocent Tom Robinson at the Maycomb city courthouse for a crime he certainly did not commit. Scout (Jean-Louise) and Jem Finch, along with their guileless friend Dill: children who understand the equality of human race far more than the greater half of the county's population. Yet because of racism and prejudice, and despite Atticus's compelling case that practically proves the man innocent, the jury concludes "guilty....guilty....guilty....guilty"

One thing I love during the trial is how often Atticus looks out the window. Looking out the window of any home or building provides greater perspective, or a bigger picture of the world. And Atticus Finch lives his life that way. He understands truth and justice, and lives ahead of the times by treating all people equal regardless of race, age, education, or status. He emulates wisdom and I love the way he fathers his two children throughout the story. He reads every morning but never flaunts his knowledge. He deals with dramatic situations yet continually maintains his calm composure. He is "just the same in the courthouse as he is on the street corner." In so many ways, I want to be like Atticus Finch. This hero, like so many others, helps me realize how much I have to improve upon.

I peeked at Jem: his hands were white from gripping the balcony rail, and his shoulders jerked as if each "guilty" was a separate stab between them...Dimly, I saw Atticus pushing papers from the table into his briefcase. He snapped it shut, went to the court reporter and said something, nodded to Mr. Gilmer, and then went to Tom Robinson and whispered something to him. Atticus put his hand on Tom's shoulder as he whispered....Then he left the courtroom, but not by his usual exit. He must have wanted to go home the short way, because he walked quickly down the middle aisle toward the south exit. I followed the top of his head as he made his way to the door. He did not look up....
'Miss Jean Louise?'
I looked around. They were standing. All around us and in the balcony on the opposite wall, the Negroes were getting to their feet. Reverend Sykes's voice was as distant as Judge Taylor's:
'Miss Jean Louise, stand up. Your father's passin.'

There are boundaries among us. They may be more subtle than they were a number of years ago, but   bold and erect they yet stand as boulders. I still see them, even between people who are "different" from one another at the Title 1 elementary school I work at. Will they ever be broken down and trodden upon by the various parties, where they may finally meet in the middle and shake hands? If the world contains more Atticus Finch's, then some day there will be no more boundaries. Some day, the commonality will be to discern our similarities rather than our differences. Some day.