Be the Boo

Last week's Trick or Treaters

Last month in Seattle finally visiting my beloved Godmother

I was lost, looking for the school office, because my daughter had left her computer at home, and needed it for class.
Upon seeing a man, I asked him for directions.
“Why don’t I just take you to the office,” he offered.
After I thanked him for his graciousness, we introduced ourselves. I learned that he is an English teacher. I told him my daughter, whom he didn't know, loves to read, and that we read together every night.
“In fact, we just finished To Kill A Mockingbird,” I added.

At this he lit up. “That’s fantastic you read that story with her! I’m so glad, because that book has been banned from our curriculum.”

WHAT?!?!?  We’re paying an arm and a leg for this private educational institution, and they are quietly banning books? (Not banned from the campus, I was later told. You can find both tomes in the library).
Baffled, I asked him why.
He shook his head, “Because Lee used the “N” word.”
This made things as clear as mud. I sputtered, “That’s not fair! It’s called authentic writing. That’s what someone like Scout would’ve heard in Alabama in the 1930s. That’s why the book is powerful. Because it rings true.”
This kind teacher just nodded sadly, and whispered, “Yes, yes.” I could tell that he had come to a separate peace on this to keep engaged in his job.  

My later research revealed that independent progressive schools across the nation have banned classics like To Kill A Mockingbird and Mice and Men. They would never use the word "ban" as it sounds harsh, somehow conservative. They prefer to say that they have quietly "replaced" them, in favor of more current books, written by minority writers that they feel are more “authentic” stories. Some educators criticize Atticus Finch for coming across as a “white savior”, though if you actually read the book, you’d know that Atticus saves exactly no one.  I don’t fit in with this progressive thinking, because I see great merit in these outdated classics.

It’s a grey morning here in Albuquerque after the election, with snow in the forecast. My thoughts drift to Red Alabama, to Maycomb County to be exact, to this banned and outdated story that reminds me that there is no justice.  Was it fair that Tom Robinson was accused of raping Mayella, even when she admitted it was her father who was abusing her?  Was it fair that Tom was convicted of raping Mayella, even after Atticus proved that with his useless and withered hand, Tom never could overpower a strong girl like Mayella? Was it fair that Tom was killed in prison?

Facts don’t matter.

When will I accept this? I was raised to revere facts, and to therefore believe in “fairness”, to expect “fairness”. This has cost me dearly.

Atticus told his son Jem, “I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.”

I assumed Atticus was explaining to Jem why he chose to defend Tom Robinson. But instead, he was praising their racist and bitter neighbor Mrs. Dubose. A refresher: Jem had torn the flowers out of Mrs. Dubose’s garden after she told Jem that Atticus was “No better than the niggers and trash he works for” (yes, I quoted it).  As a consequence, Jem had to read to Mrs. Dubose. Jem did not know that she was dying, did not know that before she died, she wanted to kick her addiction to morphine. Dubose did this by having Jem read to her when it was time for her morphine dose. Hence Atticus’ praising Mrs. Dubose for her courage, for trying to get clean despite losing to death anyway.

That Atticus could see what Mrs. Dubose was going through despite how she personally attacked him is what makes Atticus a truly great character.  As Atticus explained, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”  

And try as I might, I fail. I don’t understand someone who supports a leader who fits the definition of a fascist, according to his own former chief of staff.  I have tried to consider things from the other’s point of view, but all I see is fear and entitlement.  I don’t understand how someone can say they are voting for the economy, when 23 Nobel-prize winning economists from both sides of the aisle call Harris’ economic plan “vastly superior” to Trump’s. It begs the question: what do Trump voters know about the economy that these Nobel economists don’t?

If only this were about facts. Here’s another fact: my mother died in a memory care ward. The signs of dementia that I saw in her years before she died, I clearly see in Trump, who is a convicted felon to boot. But it’s not about facts.  When will I accept that the world isn’t fair?

Likewise, was it fair that from the age of 12 on, because of an attack, that Jem’s “left arm was somewhat shorter than his right”? Was it fair that Bob Ewell tried to kill Jem and Scout?

I love this banned book because Lee reminds me that the world is not fair, that there is no day of justice, that what goes around does not necessarily come around, that Karma may be only Taylor Swift's boyfriend.

Thankfully, Lee believed in mercy. Jem and Scout’s “different” neighbor Boo Radley was watching out for them. Thankfully, Jem and Scout’s “different” neighbor Boo was there when they most needed him; Boo, who didn't fit in. Boo, who literally saved them. 

There is a silver lining in this world that disregards facts and what is fair, that puts down those whose gender, race, religion, sexuality, or mental state is "different" from the "norm".  In this flawed world, we can still each be a “different” neighbor; we can still each be a Boo for each other.

The King of Different Neighbors, Mr. Rogers, was a Boo. He is also famous for encouraging people at a time like this: ““When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”  Find the other helpers. Be the Boo.

Lee’s beloved book ends with that Loser, that single dad who lost the trial, lost his client, and almost lost his children, going into his son Jem’s room: “Atticus would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.” He would be there. He was love.

I will ensure that my other children read To Kill a Mockingbird. I will make sure they absorb it.  Even if in so doing, I appear to be a conservative white middle-aged woman, pushing antediluvian classics onto her kids; the type of Loser who would get lost on the way to the office in a progressive school.

As the teacher showed me into the office, he gave me a parting smile, and whispered, “Read Huck Finn to her next. We banned that book for the same reason.”

It’s up to us, I realize, to be the change we wish to see in the world.

Of course, not everyone will agree with me on this, not even in my extended family. As Lee has Judge Taylor remind us in the courtroom: “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.” That is what Judge Taylor knew about justice. It was never about facts or fairness.