TKAM Post #7

Prompt- So far, is this a novel about race? Class? Gender? Coming of Age? Place? Select and defend your answer.

I think that this book has a lot to do with each of those subjects. The two main themes I have been noticing are racism and social classes, though. I even think racism is the most prominent subject of all. The way we see the Negroes treated in this book is sickening. During the trial, Tom was called the N-word several times. The fact that he had no reaction, as if he was used to it and it didn't bother him at all stuck out to me. I think Dill has the right idea because he was also saddened by how Tom was being treated. I hope someone changes the way the Negroes are talked down to before the book ends!

Also, class is a big issue in Maycomb County. Jem told Scout that he thought that there were four types of people. There are regular people like them and their neighbors, the Cunninghams, the Ewells, and the Negroes. I kind of noticed this too. Everyone feels too good for the other! The regular people don't necessarily like the Cunninghams, the Cunninghams don't necessarily like the Ewells, and the Ewells don't necessarily like the Negroes. At the end of the chapter, though, Scout tells Jem that she thinks all people are the same. In response, Jem says, "That's what I thought too, when I was your age. If there's just one kind of folks, why can't they get along with each other? If they're all alike, why do they go out of their way to despise each other? Scout, I think I'm beginning to understand something. I think I'm beginning to understand why Boo Radley's stayed shut up in the house all this time... it's because he wants to stay inside."

This quote make a lot of sense to me and it describes how differently people are treated based on their monetary worth.

TKAM Post #6

Prompt- How do you think the story (what you read so far) would have changed if Scout and Jem had a mother present in their lives? Would it change for the better or for the worse? Explain your thoughts.

I believe that if the Finch children had a mother figure present in their lives, things would be different for better and for worse. Their situation would better because, well, they would have a mother! Maybe, that means Scout would be more feminine. That could possibly be a good thing. Also, Aunt Alexandra would not have come to live with them. That could either be good or bad. If I had to choose between having a mother and not having one, I would choose to have one, of course.

But then again, if Scout and Jem had a mother, they wouldn't be as close to Atticus. Scout would be more feminine, which probably means she would not be nearly as close to Jem because he makes fun of her for "acting like a girl" sometimes. Also, Calpurnia wouldn't be working for them, since she was hired to sort of play the role of a mother. If the children had no Negro figures in their lives, I doubt they would have as much respect for them as they do now. Calpurnia teaches them manners, and gives them experiences a white woman would not be able to provide, including going to a Negro church.

I think not having a mother was an interesting twist Harper Lee put on the book. It really makes you think about how different everything would be if they had one. Also, it gives other characters a chance to be in their lives, including Calpurnia and Aunt Alexandra. It shows how a girl acts without a mother; not really girly at all. You usually see children without fathers, not mothers, so this book gives us a whole new perspective.

TKAM Post #5

Journal #5
Chapters 13 & 14
Perspective of Aunt Alexandria

Because Atticus and I are both worried about his children, we decided that it would be best for me to move in with them for a while. When I arrived, Jean Louise looked less than excited to see me. "Have you come for a visit Aunty?"

I was surprised. "Didn't your father tell you?"

Jean Louise and Jem shook their heads with blank looks on their faces.

"Probably he forgot. He's not in yet, is he?"

"Nome, he doesn't usually get back till late afternoon," Jem replied.

I decided to tell them myself. "Well, your father and I decided it was time I came to stay with you for awhile. Jem is growing up now and you are too." I directed this towards Jean Louise. "We decided that it would be best for you to have some feminine influence. It won't be many years, Jean Louise, before you become interested in clothes and boys."

Jean Louise's face showed otherwise, but I knew it to be true.

Jem asked about my husband, whom they call "Uncle Jimmy". I told him he would be staying at the Landing to keep it going.

Jean Louise asked me if I would miss him, and I gave no answer. Everybody knows Jimmy does not have much of a personality.

Later that afternoon, Atticus returned home from Montgomery.

I was delighted the way Maycomb welcomed me into their town. Their elderly neighbor Maudie Atkinson baked me a lovely Lane cake; Stephanie Crawford and I spent lots of time together; Rachel next door had me over for afternoon coffee; and Nathan Radley, apparently a man who seldom left his home, came over to tell me he was glad to see me. I also joined everal clubs and societies. Why didn't I come here sooner?

After a while of living in Maycomb, I began to notice family characteristics. For example, anyone with the last name Crawford minds their own business, the Delafields never tell the truth, all the Bufords walk a little strangely, and more. Noticing all this made me more PENSIVE, especially about how that Atticus's children do not realize how lucky they are to be Finches. After all, we seem to be the only normal family in Maycomb!

I tried getting Atticus to explain how important it is to show off the fact that we belong to such an important family, which ended in disaster. They want nothing to do with it. I believe if I try hard enough, though, their PREOCCUPATION with heredity will EMERGE. It is not like it is an ANTAGONIZING idea, anyway. I shall EXTRACT their appreciation some way, some how.

TKAM Post #4

Journal #4
Chapters 10, 11 & 12
Perspective of Mrs. Dubose

Because I live on the way to the business district of Maycomb, people pass by my house all the time. I get amusement out of hollering at them in one way or another. I’ve only been AQUAINTED with a few people in my entire life. Not many seem worthy of my time.
Two children I see somewhat often are Atticus Finch’s children, Jem and Scout. Whenever they walk by, I give stare them down and make them feel worthless. It comes naturally to me, especially now that their daddy is a nigger-lover. He’s defending a black man in court! That is unheard of around here.
Anyways, today I was sitting on my porch as usual when the two of them were walking by. I asked them what they were doing at this time of day; they must have been skipping school. I was about to call their principal on them, when Jem said, “It’s Saturday, Mrs. Dubose.”
“Makes no difference if it’s Saturday. I wonder if your father knows where you are?” I was just looking for a way to get them in trouble so they wouldn’t pass my house all the time.
“Mrs. Dubose, we’ve been goin’ to town by ourselves since we were this high,” he said and put his hand a little above the sidewalk.
Although this is true, I was not about to admit that. “Don’t you lie to me! Jeremy Finch, Maudie Atkinson told me you broke down her scuppernong this morning. She’s going to tell your father and then you’ll wish you never saw the light of day! If you aren’t sent to reform school before next week, my name’s not Dubose!”
Jem tried to tell me this wasn’t true.
“Don’t you contradict me! And you, what are you doing in those overalls? You should be in a dress and camisole, young lady! You’ll grow up waiting on tables if somebody doesn’t change your ways- a Finch waiting on tables at the O.K. Café- Ha!” I was talking to Scout. She needs to start acting like a lady. She pretends to be so INGENUOUS, but I can see right through that.
I continued, “Not only a Finch waiting on tables but one in the courthouse lawing for niggers! Yes indeed, what has this world come to when a Finch goes against his raising? I’ll tell you… Your father’s no better than the niggers and trash he works for!”
I knew I had really gotten to them with that one. Silently, I congratulated myself. The Finches didn’t say anything more; they just kept walking.
Later that day, I came outside to see all the tops of my camellias cut off! Everyone knows how FANATICAL I am about those. I immediately knew Jem Finch was guilty, so I made him come over and clean it up. He offered to work on them every Saturday to help them grow back out, and in my mind I DEBATED whether to accept that or not, but I decided not to. I wanted him to read to me. At first he seemed PERPLEXED at such an obscure request, but he agreed to it. Although it was for therapy, I actually enjoyed the extra company for a while.

TKAM Post #3

Journal #3
Chapters 8 & 9
Perspective of Atticus


“Baby, get up.” I was holding Scout’s bathrobe and coat. “Put your robe on first.”
Jem was standing beside me. I had just woken him up, also. His hair was tousled and his eyes were still half-closed.
“Hurry, hon. Here are your shoes and socks.”
Scout sat up. “Is it morning?” She asked groggily.
“No, it’s a little after one. Hurry now.” I responded quickly.
Scout began to understand that something was not right. “What’s the matter?”
I said nothing. The silence was broken by the sounds of people running about.
“Whose is it?” Scout asked.
I told her it was Miss Maudie. This woke her up. We headed outside. The front door had a perfect view to Miss Maudie’s house. It had fire shooting out of the downstairs windows. I heard fire sirens.
“It’s gone, ain’t it?” Jem dreadfully asked.
“I expect so. Now listen, both of you. Go down and stand in front of the Radley Place. Keep out of the way, you hear? See which way the wind’s blowing?” I needed them out of harm’s reach.
“Oh. Atticus, reckon we oughta start moving the furniture out?”
“Not yet, son. Do as I tell you. Run now. Take care of Scout, you hear? Don’t let her out of your sight,” I warned Jem. He nodded.
The two of them walked over to the Radley place and I joined the crowd of other townsmen. Every man I could think of was there. We took turns entering the flaming building to retrieve Miss Maudie’s furniture. I brought her heavy oak rocking chair outside.
Mr. Avery thought it would be smart to get her mattress outside. Despite people telling him how unsafe it would be to do that, he still went into the house and ventured upstairs. His face appeared in a window up there. It promptly disappeared, and a mattress took its place. He pushed it through the window. It was followed by other various items of furniture. A chair, a footrest, a stool, and more came sailing through the window.
After a minute though, we realized; the fire was probably travelling upwards and would consume the entire top floor soon. “Come down from there, Dick! The stairs are going! Get outta there, Mr. Avery!”
He tried exiting through the window- not one of his better ideas. He got stuck.
I looked back at my children. They looked honestly frightened for the poor fellow.
When I looked back, I saw him laying on one of Miss Maudie’s bushes.
The fire had eaten its way to the roof, the window Mr. Avery had just left showed us just how intense the fire was.
I was standing with a whole group of neighbors. I tried as hard as I could not to show much emotion, because I knew my children were playing Monkey See-Monkey Do. They wouldn’t get upset until I did.
More fire trucks came and water began being dumped onto nearby houses, just in case.
At around dawn, the fire went out and everyone went home.
Miss Maudie. Who was standing beside me the entire time, was silent. Scout and Jem walked over but I shook my head as if to say that she needed to be alone for a while. Her house was one of her only belongings, anyway.
We went home and I told the kids that Miss Maudie was going to stay with Miss Rachel for the time being.
We drank hot chocolate and as we did, I noticed Scout was wrapped in a brown, woolen blanket. “I thought I told you and Jem to stay put.”
“Why, we did. We stayed-“
“Then whose blanket is that?” I asked, eying it.
Scout acted as if she had no idea she was wearing a blanket. “Atticus, I don’t know, sir… I-“
Jem seemed to have less of an idea that Scout as to where the blanket came from. He started babbling on about something in a tree and Mr. Nathan and how he has never hurt them.
“Whoa, son. You’re right. We’d better keep this and the blanket to ourselves. Someday, maybe Scout can thank him for covering her up.” I said calmly.
“Thank who?” Scout asked.
“Boo Radley. You were so busy looking at the fire you didn’t know it when she put the blanket around you.”
Jem thought this would be a good time to shake Scout up a little. “He sneaked out of the house-turn ‘round- sneaked up, an’ went like this!”
I looked at him. “Do not let this inspire you to further glory, Jeremy.”

TKAM Post #2

Journal #2
Chapters 4-7
Perspective of Dill

Because I’m back in Maycomb for the summer, Scout, Jem and I have been playing a lot. Our favorite game this time around is where we act like Boo Radley. The more we play our game, the more intricate it becomes. We ended up adding a storyline and dialogue. But that ended real quick one day when we were acting out when Boo stuck some scissors into his daddy’s leg and Atticus came out and asked us what we were playing. He told us we better not be acting out anything that had to do with the Radleys.

As Jem and I became closer and closer this summer, I couldn’t help but feel a little superior to Scout. One morning, she came up to us and we told her to go away.
“Will not. This yard’s as much mine as it is yours, Jem Finch. I got just as much right to play in it as you have.”
“If you stay you’ve got to do what we tell you,” I said.
“We-ll, who’s so high and mighty all of a sudden?” she asked sharply.
“If you don’t say you’ll do what we tell you, we ain’t gonna tell you anything,”
I said belligerently.
“You act like you grew ten inches in the night! All right, what is it?” she gave in.
Jem told her about our plan to give Boo Radley a note.
“Just how?” Scout questioned. As usual, she seemed scared. But the plan was simple; Jem was just going to stick the note on a fishing pole and drop it through the Radleys’ window shutters. I would stand guard and ring their mother’s silver dinner-bell if anyone came.
Scout asked what the note said.
I replied, “We’re askin’ him real politely to come out sometimes, and tell us what he does in there- we said we wouldn’t hurt him and we’d buy him an ice cream.”
Scout didn’t appreciate our idea. “You’ve all gone crazy, he’ll kill us!”
“It’s my idea,” I said. “I figure if he’d come out and sit spell with us he might feel better.”
“How do you know he don’t feel good?”
“Well how’d you feel if you’d been shut up for a hundred years with nothin’ to eat but cats to eat? I bet he’s got a beard down to here-“ I motioned to my feet.
After a few minutes of squabbling with Scout, Jem told us to hush. He reached beneath the house and grabbed a yellow bamboo rod. “Reckon this is long enough to reach from the sidewalk?”
“Anybody who’s brave enough to go up and touch the house hadn’t oughta use a fishin’ pole. Why don’t you just knock the front door down?” Scout remarked smartly.
“This-is-different. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Jem said, frustrated.
I gave the note to Jem and all three of us walked down to the Radley house.
Once Scout gave him the green light, Jem attached the note to the fishing pole and cautiously pushed it across the yard, in the direction of a window. The pole was a couple inches too short, so Jem had to lean forward to get the pole closer to the house.
All of a sudden, I saw Atticus Finch walking over to the house. I rang the bell as hard as I could, even in Atticus’s face. “Stop ringing that bell.”
I held the clapper steady. There was silence.
“Jem, what were you doing?” he asked.
“Nothin, sir,” was his response.
“I don’t want any of that. Tell me.”
When he did, we got the lecture about minding our own business and such.
Oh well. We’ll get him to come out some other way, then.

TKAM Post #1

Journal #1
Chapters 1-3
Perspective of Miss Caroline


Today was the first day of school for my first-grade class. A little girl I had never seen before named Scout Finch is in my class. But that isn’t saying much, seeing as I’m not a NATIVE to Maycomb. At first, she seemed very excited to be in school, but after a while the anticipation seemed to fade, as did my good mood.
In the beginning of the day, I read the class a story about cute little cats and how they lived comfortably under a kitchen stove. I love that book! The children didn’t seem to appreciate it as much as I would have liked them to, but that’s okay.
After the story, I printed the alphabet on the board and asked my students if they knew what it was. Since a majority of my class failed last year, everybody did. I asked Scout to read it aloud, which she did flawlessly. Then I asked her to read some of My First Reader and the stock-market quotations from The Mobile Register out loud. By doing this. I realized- Scout is literate. I lost my liking for her for a few moments. I probably had a MALVOLENT look on my face. What can I say; I was pretty IRKED that her father had taught her to read before coming to school. This would be a completely different obstacle than expected.
Of course, Scout acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. “Teach me? He hasn’t taught me anything, Miss Caroline. Atticus ain’t got time to teach me anything.” I just smiled and shook my head disbelievingly. Obviously someone had taught her to read. “Why, he’s so tired at night he just sits in the living room and reads,” she added on for good measure.
“If he didn’t teach you, who did?” I asked, interested. “Somebody did. You weren’t born reading The Mobile Register.”
After some outlandish story about how her brother tells her she belongs to a different family, I had to put a stop to her foolishness. “Let’s not let our imaginations run away with us, dear. Now you tell your father not to teach you any more. It’s best to begin reading with a fresh mind. You tell him I’ll take over from here and try to undo the damage.”
She tried to protest but I just told her to sit down. She mumbled an apology and sat down.

A while later, after recess, I asked all of the children who go home to eat lunch to raise their hands. Several kids raised their hands; I assumed they lived in the town. I then called upon the children who bring their lunch to school to put it on top of their desks. I walked up and down the rows, approving their lunches. When I reached Walter Cunningham’s desk and saw nothing, I asked him if he forgot his food. He gave me no response. He didn’t even look at me. “Did you forget it this morning?” I asked again.
I waited for a response. “Yeb’m” he finally got out.
I felt bad for the boy- after all, he wasn’t even wearing shoes- so I walked over to my purse and took out a quarter. I offered it to him. “Go and eat downtown today. You can pay me back tomorrow.”
I was surprised to see him shake his head. “Nome thank you, ma’am.”
I began to grow impatient. “Here, Walter, come get it.”
He shook his head again.
I looked up and noticed that Scout was standing. “Ah- Miss Caroline? Walter’s one of the Cunninghams, Miss Caroline. You’re shamin’ him, Miss Caroline. Walter hasn’t got a quarter at home to bring you, and you can’t use any stovewood.”
My back became rigid. I grabbed Scout by the collar and dragged her to my desk. “Jean Louise, I’ve had about enough of you this morning. You’re starting off on the wrong foot in every way, my dear. Hold out your hand.” Scout looked at the class with a confused face. I picked up a ruler and with what I hoped to be an INTIMIDATING expression, I patted her palm with it. Afterwards, I told her to stand in a corner. As the class watched this happen, they burst into laughter.
Not knowing what else to do to get them to settle down, I threatened to do the same thing to them. This lead to even more chaos.
Miss Blount, a 6th grade teacher, appeared in the doorway. This was what made the class grow quiet. “If I hear another sound from this room I’ll burn up everybody in it. Miss Caroline, the sixth grade cannot concentrate on the pyramids for all this racket!”
Right as she finished saying this, though, the lunch bell rang and the class left. Scout was the last student to leave.
I was so overwhelmed by this point, all I could do not to cry was slouch in my chair and bury my head in my arms.
I hope the rest of the year turns out better than this. I’ll have to PERSERVERE either way, though.