When Harper Lee’s novel Go Set a Watchman was released, I eagerly picked it up, much like any passionate literature enthusiast would. While I cherished To Kill a Mockingbird, I never developed the deep emotional connection that many others experienced; however, the name Scout always lingered in my thoughts for a potential daughter. My introduction to Mockingbird came during my college years as I pursued a degree in English education. As an avid reader, I was captivated by the book’s prose, characterization, and voice when I finally discovered it in my early twenties.
In my initial years as an educator, I observed my colleagues masterfully employ Mockingbird to teach high school students about themes of race, justice, and activism—drawing inspiration from Atticus Finch’s unwavering integrity both in and out of the courtroom. However, the Atticus portrayed in Watchman has left many of my teaching peers disheartened. Articles highlighting his unsettling commitment to segregation have tarnished the legacy of a character many of us admired and even named our children after, now leading to a sense of regret.
The reaction to Atticus’s disturbing views on segregation is understandable; his disdainful reference to the NAACP feels like a sharp blade cutting through the reader’s comfort. This is not the Atticus we grew up with, the hero of the South who stood for justice. Yet, even amidst this complexity, there are lessons to be gleaned from Atticus Finch. As a 40-year-old woman raising a spirited 3-year-old reminiscent of Mockingbird‘s Scout, I find valuable insights in Watchman regarding parenting and unconditional love.
If you intend to read the novel, be forewarned—I will discuss significant plot points moving forward. I do not condone Atticus’s abhorrent racial beliefs; they are indefensible. Nevertheless, it is evident that he possesses a deep love for his daughter, despite his troubling actions that perpetuate societal injustices.
Watchman’s narrative centers on Jean Louise (the grown-up Scout) as she struggles to reconcile the father she idolized in her youth with the man she now perceives—one who clings to outdated ideologies. Returning from New York City, Jean Louise grapples with the conflicting emotions of love, family, and activism in Maycomb, her Southern hometown. She articulates this internal struggle powerfully, reflecting, “Dear goodness, the things I learned. I did not want my world disturbed, but I wanted to crush the man who’s trying to preserve it for me.”
As she navigates her evolving relationship with Atticus, the reader anticipates the moment when her memories of the father she once revered collide with the reality of the man before her. This pivotal climax offers poignant lessons on parenting, particularly in a world that may not fully embrace my own little Scout. Atticus, though flawed and steeped in questionable beliefs, is devoted to his children, raising them with affection and guidance—even in the face of his own shortcomings. Jean Louise reflects on how, despite their mother’s absence, Atticus made an earnest effort: he was always ready to engage in play, craft imaginative stories, and listen to their worries, reading to them nightly until his voice broke.
To Scout, Atticus was a constant presence in her life. He took them on adventures, exposing them to the wider world while encouraging their growth, often alongside Calpurnia, their helpful housekeeper—a fact Jean Louise tends to overlook due to her privilege. Atticus’s commitment was unwavering; he wanted his children to experience life beyond their front porch.
Most importantly, he understood the necessity of letting them carve their own paths, which seems to me one of the most challenging aspects of parenting. When Jean Louise graduates, she feels cast aside by her father’s encouragement to be independent, an initial insult that, over time, she realizes was rooted in his wisdom. He recognized that she needed to thrive without his constant guidance, an essential lesson for today’s parents navigating the landscape of varying parenting styles.
If the narrative concluded there, it would be relatively superficial. However, Atticus ultimately reveals his true intentions. In a deeply emotional conversation, he expresses the need to dismantle Jean Louise’s idealized image of him to facilitate her growth in an evolving world. In a moment of anguish, she compares him to a tyrant and laments the shattering of her trust, saying, “You’re the only person I think I’ve ever fully trusted and now I’m done for.” Instead of retreating, Atticus responds, “I’ve killed you, Scout. I had to.” Her reaction is one of anger: “I despise you.”
Yet, in this heart-wrenching moment, Atticus responds with unconditional love: “Well, I love you.” He absorbs her anger and disappointment, showcasing a profound understanding of parental love—one that embraces the child’s journey to autonomy, even at the cost of their relationship. This moment encapsulates the essence of parenting: the bittersweet reality of nurturing a child’s independence, even as it may lead to distance.
In conclusion, Atticus Finch, despite his flaws, offers invaluable lessons on the complexities of parenting. His journey with Jean Louise serves as a reminder that love and growth often come with challenges, and that the path to independence can sometimes create painful rifts.