Atticus' Fall

Despite what Go Set a Watchmen tells us about what Atticus Finch becomes later in life, Harper Lee has given us an iconic character known for his courage, a before-its-time racial wokeness, and the tough-but-tender fatherhood style described in many to the modern-day parenting books I avoid reading. Atticus Finch is admired for his ability to "delete the adjectives" and to "begin anyway" even when "you know you're licked." He is the kind of lawyer we hope we never need - but glad we have on retainer. He is the super-cool Dad who, when you go to your friend's house for dinner or a sleepover, engages you in a way that happily shocks your host-friend into remembering, despite his strictness, he is still a pretty great Dad. Without crude language in his lexicon he translates "I don't give a f__ what they think!" as:

“The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience.”

Atticus has a dry sense of humor, a strong sense of duty, and is seldom ambiguous... unless the ambiguity was intentionally meant to teach a lesson or make a point. While he may not be a someone I'd like to hang out with on a Saturday night, he is someone whose stories I would listen to and from which I would glean valuable life advice.

To Kill A Mockingbird is full of scenes that open the eyes of Scout and Jem about their father. They begin to see Atticus as more than the man that runs their home; more than a disciplinarian; more than a courageous lawyer. Yes, To Kill a Mockingbird is a great commentary on the reality of racism. Yes, it is a tale that teaches us to see things from another's point of view and to find the courage to stand up for what is right even if unpopular with others or detrimental to self. But, above all, it is a beautiful coming-of-age story about how we learn to learn. It is about where and when our deepest-held beliefs are formed. It asks us to recognize the archetypal characters who populate our own origin story and assign to them the great benefits and damage they've done. Forget what your 9th-Grade English teaches says, Harper Lee is encouraging us toward self examination through there lens of social commentary, not the other way around.

I love the scene in which Atticus' secret history as the county's best marksman is reluctantly revealed to his children. He takes matters into his own hands when a rabid dog wanders into the neighborhood. As Atticus' gunshot rings in their ears, their eyes are opened to a new revelation about the character and nature of their father.

“It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Later in the book, after a guilty verdict is returned in Tom Robinson's case (Sorry - Spoiler Alert), Jem is overcome with tears. Once again, your 9th-Grade English teacher may have told you Jem was overwhelmed by the mindless racism he now sees in his community. And, to be fair, that may've been part of his motivation. But consider instead that Jem's tears come not from a place of social disappointment, but from a well of sadness that, for the first time in his eyes, his father has failed. Atticus is not undefeatable. In Jem's head: Maybe my dad isn't everything I thought he was. Previously perfect, his father has fallen short...in a very public way. Jem is grieving as Atticus falls in the ranks from untouchable to fallible.

I think it can be hard for children to imagine their parents have an identity and a history that does not involve them. In kids' eyes, parents are deities, something far from human.

It seems for most* children (*This is where I recognize that a growing number of kids are missing a parent , or both parents, or have really, really shitty parents.), parents are placed on a higher level of existence. They are seen as creator, sustainer, provider, values-former, writer of rules, and righter of wrongs. Hymnodist and theologians have these same word-tools in their lexicon. (*Do you see what I could say about absent and shitty parents here??? Even their absence and general shittiness will impact the story of their child's life. -I might write about that in another blog ...that is if I read a book about absent/shitty parenting).

This idea of parent as God, and a parent's fall fro. grace, is explored by Lee in Go Set a Watchmen:

“As you grew up, when you were grown, totally unknown to yourself, you confused your father with God. You never saw him as a man with a man’s heart, and a man’s failings—I’ll grant you it may have been hard to see, he makes so few mistakes, but he makes ’em like all of us.” ― Harper Lee, Go Set a Watchman

In my memory, my father fell from during a road trip up north when I was about Jem's age. He got so angry when he lost his wallet at a gas station in Standish, MI. Now, to his defense, this happened at a time when losing your wallet meant losing all the cash we had for the week. And credit cards couldn't be turned off with a few swipes of a touch screen or a simple phone call. Despite all this, he seemed irrationally angry to me, and much of it seemed to be directed at me. This was not the behavior someone would sing about in a hymn in a hundred years from now. This is not language someone would use in a sermon illustration.

Like Jem, in my head: Maybe my dad isn't everything I thought he was.

I know that my children do not suffer from the same delusions of grandeur that I placed on my father as a child. I have failed miserably and publicly: anger, malcontent, they hear me swear, loud arguments with Danielle, and more things too embarrassing to publish for the world to read. I have fallen in the eyes of my children.

However, they still they look to me for provision, answers, guidance, value and identity. And I will happily continue to give them all that I can.

“There's a lot of ugly things in this world, son. I wish I could keep 'em all away from you. That's never possible.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

I actually enjoy parenting from this fallen position. I can be more honest with my children. I can talk about things Atticus never talked about with Scout and Jem. Like the other day when Seth asked me what a vibrator is. (Hey, that's a fun conversation.) Because he is a God in their eyes, Atticus can't talk about masturbation with his kids. In fact, Atticus defers the difficult by inviting his sister to move into the house to help raise the children. From my place of fallen parenting, there is no deferring these difficult conversations. I can just go for it.

When we parent from a position of perfection ("Because I said so!- that's why"), we are asking our kids to worship us. I don't want that. I don't want my kids to stop seeking truth - because they think I have all the answers. I want my kids to be known for more than the name we share...to understand who they are even when I am gone. Eventually, I want them to challenge my rules and to pursue justice. And I definitely don't want my kids to believe I will always be able to provide for them because the time will come when they will have to provide for themselves.

Harper Lee's novels navigate Atticus' fall in the eyes of his children. This is especially true in Go Set a Watchman. If you haven't read it, and need a reminder about how humans fall, give it some time.

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For those sensitive to it, I am sorry for the bad language in this blog...

“Bad language is a stage all children go through, and it dies with time when they learn they're not attracting attention with it.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

...but I find that it still has the power to attract some attention. And you ARE still reading... and that helps makes my point.