Don't Lock Me up and Put me in a Home Because I'm Innocent!

 Author's Note- This is my final essay for To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee.  As you probably know this is a book we are reading as a class in Language Arts.  This is a theme analysis with text evidence supporting my theory.  Enjoy

They say that childhood is not  a way of being but a state of mind.  Others say that innocence is most active in the mind of a child. So, does that mean, theoretically, that an adult can be innocent? Of course they can.  If a child is never humbled anywhere along his or her lifetime,  they will remain innocent forever.  I would even actually say that in the story of To Kill A Mockingbird  by Harper Lee, the innocence usually thought to be only in the minds of the children is best demonstrated through the actions of the adults.

For starters I think that I will begin by analyzing the actions of Atticus Finch, the town lawyer and peacekeeper.  He is well known as never being fazed by anything, never panicking in tough situations, always considering the consequences but never letting them influence his decisions, he is the last person on earth most people would think of as being innocent.  But he is.  Taking this case, for example, was an action of innocence.  As was the time when he did nothing to restrain Bob Ewell.  Atticus is so convinced that that he understands the facts of the world, when really, all he knows is what he has experience with.  He thinks he knows how everyone will respond to his case.  He thinks he knows the need for revenge in Bob's head.  He thinks that everyone might give him a chance to expose that flaws of the human race and then be glad to change themselves.  Maybe, just possibly, Atticus Finch is a little naïve in that matter.  Naïve in the idea that he put himself and his children in danger for their lives without realizing it. In fact, ignoring all the fancy dialect and the wise opinions, Atticus Finch seems to act; sometimes more than others; just like a child himself. 

After being accused of raping young Mayella Ewell, Tom Robinson, an innocent black, is found guilty and sent to a black prison camp.  Days later he is shot on an escape attempt and everyone in town believes justice has been served.  Innocence, as it is the topic of my paper,  is nowhere if not in the mind of this one man.  Simply pleading innocent, which he was, at his trial was an act of innocence.  Trying to escape a prison would be another.  This man barely had the common sense to run away from the Ewell house when he say Bob approaching.  No, I'm not saying he's stupid.  No, this doesn't mean he's ignorant.  Nor is he necessarily naïve either.  Tom Robinson is completely blinded by his simple innocence.  And now he is dead because of it.  

Bob Ewell, who I have mentioned multiple times before, is just another face in the theme of innocence.  In the end, of course, he's dead(see a pattern?), but during his life he never, not once, ever, thought of anyone but himself. This trial was nothing but a chance to get more money by weaseling his way through the holes in society.  His kids were nothing but pawns in order to get what he wanted.  He was an evil old man, and however smart and devious he was, he was still quite innocent in some terms of the word.  Without realizing what damage his temper can cause, he somehow turned the entire town against him. Not that they weren't before, but now more than ever they want him to stay in his place.  Or he might just end up in a position he does not want to be in. 

"I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard but I know you'll go after bird.  Shoot all the blue jays you want if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

Atticus uses his words of wisdom once again to tell Jem and Scout about the ways of the world. Maybe it's just coincidence that later in the book a bunch of mockingbirds would be dead. Maybe, but I don't think so.  Mockingbirds are basically the model of innocence, they never hurt anyone, they sing and play and have babies.  Why would you want to shoot them? Because we are us.  And that's what we do.  Tom Robinson, Atticus Finch, and Bob Ewell are just like mockingbirds themselves.  Yet almost all of them end up dead.  Harper Lee was trying to tell us something. 

Many times in our society we have come across adults that haven't moved out of, so to speak, their childlike minds.  Innocence, or not knowing or understanding beyond what you see in your head, is found everywhere.  Whether it's in children or adults, that doesn't matter all that much, but what does matter is that you treat it simply like you do a learning disability.  It is as such, only about a billion times more common.  Everyone has a little innocence, just a smidgen bit.  And so, I suppose, the moral of the story is that it doesn't matter your age- your height, don't judge someone by what they can't see, judge them by how they use what they can see.

Mad Dog

Author's Note- This piece I made is told from the point of view of Stephanie Crawford, the town gossip. I wanted to expose her to show everyone that she might not try to overreact and tell tall tales, she just did.  She always thinks the worst of people other than herself and she trusts no one and nothing.  I suppose you could say she needs an attitude adjustment.  I don't know if half of the things told in this piece are true or not, but there isn't really a reason why they couldn't be.  It is what I imagine happening when no one is looking.

The road was dead, not a single soul dared exit the safety of their homes with the mad dog on the loose.  With a sudden curiosity, Stephanie Crawford poked her tiny head through the gape in the curtains in order to catch a glimpse of the action.  She gasped.  There was Atticus Finch; the town lawyer and peacekeeper aiming a large gun at the obnoxious dog belonging to that stupid Negro Tim Johnson.  Her legs shook.  She ached to tell someone about her findings, but, as they all most likely are watching it right now just like herself.  She picked up the telephone.  She rang a few numbers and then held it up to her ear. 

"Hello? Who is this?"the receiver asked.

"It's Stephanie Crawford. I would like to report  a rabid dog loose in Maycomb country. We have been trying to restrain it but it's mad!"

"Sorry ma'am about that ma'am.  I'll be there right away." The man's voice in the earpiece was replaced with a dial tone.  Stephanie placed the hand piece back on the doc.  She smiled. 'Bout time somebody put that darn Negro's dog in it's place.  She strutted over to her dining room table and pulled out a chair, but practically jumped out of her petticoat when the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired rang out in her house.  She ducked; hiding under the table and waited.  Oh no.  They've come for her! They were going to shred her dresses and cut her hair and- she stopped midsentence when a though arose in her head.  The blacks- they were uprising! Atticus had given  Tom respect so now they all thought they deserved something more! How dare he! That stupid Negro lover was going to get her killed! She crouched lower.  Then a sound erupted in the streets.  Not gunshots, not screams, not  anything she could ever have imagined at such a time.  It was applause.  She stood.  The idiot blacks thought that they had defeated her didn't they?  Well she'd teach them.  In a single burst of courage she grabbed the shotgun she always kept behind her large array of fur coats in the closet and ran into the street.  And froze.  It wasn't Negros applauding.  It was Miss Maudie and Mr. Avery and Jem and Scout Finch and all her other imbecile neighbors applauding. Averting her eyes from those strange people she saw a darkly clothed figure fallen in a heap on the road.  They killed someone and now they were applauding? What was going on?  Either way, she didn't need this she thought as she looked down at the gun still in her hands and bustled back to the house.  A few moments later, when she emerged again, the crowd had dispersed until only Jeremy, Jean Louise, and Miss Maudie remained on the road.  The figure was gone. 

Blanket Scene

As we drank our cocoa I noticed Atticus looking at me, first with curiosity, then with sternness. "I thought I told you and Jem to stay put," he said.

"Why, we did.  We stayed-"

"Then whose blanket is that?"

"Blanket?"

'Yes ma'am, blanket.  It isn't ours."

I looked down and found myself clutching a brown woolen blanket I was wearing around my shoulders, squaw-fashion.

"Atticus, I don't know, sir . . . I-"

. . .

Atticus said, "Whoa son, " so gently that I was greatly heartened. It was obvious the he had not followed a word Jem said, for all Atticus said was, "Your right. We'd better keep this and the blanket to ourselves. Someday, maybe, Scout can thank him for covering her up."

"Thank who?"  I asked.

"Boo Radley. You were so busy looking at the fire you didn't know it when he put the blanket around you."

I chose this scene to help represent the book because to the readers, it was one of the first signs that Boo Radley was a alive, and maybe not quite as mean and crazy as everyone says he is. Boo plays a huge part in the story of the town as well as the story of Jem and Scout's childhood.  His mystery and craziness drive the kids to doing some things that they will most likely remember the rest of their lives.  Also, after reading this scene, that was when I first started to consider that maybe it was Boo that sowed the pants, maybe it was him that filled the tree with gifts, and now, maybe it was him that gave Scout the blanket.  Another reason why I enjoy reading the excerpt from the book would he because it just proves that not everyone in town knows exactly as much as they think they do.  They think that they have all the dirt on everyone, when really, all they know are a bunch of silly stories and rumors.  People like Miss. Stephanie Crawford are really not quite as knowledgeable as they give themselves credit for.  Boo Radley isn't who everyone says he is.  And he is about ready to show it.  

The Reflection

Heather.  The new girl from Ohio desperately praying to fit in. Melinda.  The freaky outcast Goth chick with a reputation so deep it would take a miracle to turn it all around.  I'm sure, even without reading the novel (Speak), you know where this is going. Two polar opposites forced together by their desire to make a friend.  Turns out they have more in common than they think. 

You know that feeling that you get when you're reading a book and something pops up that seems totally irrelevant?  Actually, 9 times out of 10 the author is giving you a hint. One of the scenes I remember the best for being just plain weird is the one where Melinda and Heather are in Heather's basement and Heather just jumps right onto the treadmill and goes for a spontaneous run.  I know that I have been wondering the entire book why Heather is so strange. I mean who in their right mind just has a complete meltdown when a jar of nail polish spills on the carpet.  Sure it might have been new carpeting, but still?  Really?  Isn't that a bit eccentric?  After searching the book for anything regarding Heather's oddness I realized that Melinda has some pretty weird habits herself.  I'm not even going to mention the whole fact that she tried to kill herself, but really, Melinda is a lifeless drone.  She has no opinion.  No interest.  No nothing.  Then it hit me.  Heather and Melinda aren't complete opposites.  They are exactly the same. They are mirrors. 

Okay, call me crazy, go ahead,  I won't mind, but you might just swallow you words soon enough.

First I'm going start out with Heather.  Strange child.  I might have mentioned that before, but it's all too true. To start out with, I went back to Heather's first real freak-out scene when her white carpet got stained with nail polish.  She threw herself onto her bed and sobbed.  Then she ended up crying even harder when Melinda tried to fix it but just ended up making it worse.  Okay.  So? Then I realize the biggest hint there.  The carpet.  It's white.  And new.  Just like Heather.  Heather is fresh to the area.  She's got a new room, new carpet, and completely blank slate.  Melinda is just a little stain on her flawless record, but when you have no personality, no life to tell of in your whiteness, a little stain just might stand out a lot more than it would in a normal bedroom. Heather doesn't have any idea who she is, just that if she doesn't find a way to fit in, she might end up sticking out.  Heather is just a reflection of whoever stands in front of her.  Like a mirror. Like Melinda. 

Melinda, at one point, might have cared what others thought of her, but her interest has long since gone.  She has bigger problems than trying to fit into a stupid messed up high school social triangle.  Bigger fish to fry so they say.  Wrong.  If that was the case, the book wouldn't be called Speak.   People who don't care what others think of them can talk without wondering what the consequences will be.   People who don't want to fit in don't hide from their parents because then they might just realize that there might be something wrong with their child.  Then they would have to explain.  Come clean.  Coming clean would mean an end to Melinda. So she hides.  Where nobody will find her; all the while, that little sane part of her still wishes somebody would reach out  and notice. Her whole white carpet is soiled with mistakes and hatred, the trash of others being thrown on the freak, and the only one who won't throw their trash at her is the only one that can clean it and let the real Melinda out. 

Sorry I lost you with that whole carpet metaphor, I guess I sort of got carried away.  Happens.

Of course, Melinda isn't the same thing as Heather, other wise they would both be preppy Marthas, that, or depressed freaks.  There is a difference though.  Melinda doesn't have a clean slate.  She doesn't have a new life and new, littler problems, she is stuck with all the baggage she's picked up over the years.  She's dirty.  A dirty, dirty girl.

Heather on the other hand is spit shine clean.  She has no history, and, hate to say it, but no future either.  But that doesn't matter.  The main reason Heather is so much different is because she is clean. She has no baggage at this school.  In this new life.  With these new people.  She can be whoever she wants to be.  Isn't that what a mirror does?

Okay.  Did you gobble those words right back up?  I sure hope you did.  Or I just might eat them for you.

Heather and Melinda aren't different.  They aren't the same.  They aren't anything.  This whole book is not telling the story of two girls, but of those who chose to influence them.  The Martha's.  Andy Evans.  IT.  Rachelle.  Mr. Freeman.  Try to explain the look of the mirror, eventually you'll just end up describing the person looking back from the inside.  Look as hard as you want to, but you won't find anything underneath the mirror but a blank wall.