Revisiting To Kill a Mockingbird: The Moment My Faith Was Shaken

During the Fall semester, I took a class titled Fiction in the Culture Wars. Throughout the semester, my classmates and I read Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird and Go Set a Watchman and Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give. As we worked through each text, we discussed critical issues surrounding them such as empathy, the function of these texts within the literary canon and how studying these texts fits into civil rights and antiracism.
Through discussions with my classmates and professor, I became particularly interested in To Kill a Mockingbird. For some people, this novel is the holy grail of literature and damn anybody that has anything negative to say about it. One of my projects during the semester tasked me with interviewing a former teacher of mine regarding one of the aforementioned texts. I chose to interview my 10th grade English teacher also known as the person that taught me To Kill a Mockingbird. We had a lengthy discussion about the importance of this book. My former teacher raved about it and talked fondly about the years she spent teaching it to her students. In my feedback for this assignment, my professor said that he was glad there are still people who have faith in To Kill a Mockingbird like my teacher. When I told her this, she was horrified at the mere suggestion that a fellow English teacher did not have full faith in To Kill a Mockingbird. It was at this precise moment that I began to think about my guiding question for this blog post: why do white people love and defend To Kill a Mockingbird so much?
Now, I know some people might question my authority on this subject because I am a cisgender white man. I have no problem admitting that I have also been drawn to defend To Kill a Mockingbird. I read it in high school and loved it. I reread it for the first time in this class and fell in love with it all over again. I openly admitted to crying at certain points throughout the novel (Yes, the infamous court scene was one of them.) On our class discussion board, I wrote many posts and replies to posts trying to reposit this novel back onto its metaphorical pedestal. However, this was also part of the driving force of this project for me. Was I, and my fellow white people, so quick to defend this novel because of nostalgia or something else? After careful consideration, and after studying a more contemporary novel that deals with the same issue of racial injustice like Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give, I am going to argue the latter.
Gathering Research: Opinions on To Kill a Mockingbird
To tackle this question, one of the first things I did was find other opinions on the subject. Oddly enough, asking Google why white people loved To Kill a Mockingbird so much was a sufficient search for the purposes of my blog. This search drew me to one of my first sources: a Washington Post article written by Errin Haines titled “The truths ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ tells about white people.” This article, written in July of 2020, included Haines’ thoughts on the novel after rereading it for the 60th anniversary. After recalling reading this novel for the first time as a teenage black woman living in America, Haines states,
This anniversary coincides with a national reckoning on race that is challenging America’s long-held beliefs and long-standing institutions. The moment presents an opportunity for Americans to finally read “Mockingbird” for the story it is — not the one too many would like for it to be. To do so is to not only see the truth Lee tries to tell in its pages but to begin to understand the truth about America (¶ 4).
I was specifically struck by Haines’ assertion that many Americans enjoy To Kill a Mockingbird because it is a story that they want it to be. When a story is put on such an unreachably high pedestal, it begs the question as to who put it there. Haines also talks at length about the black characters within the novel. Specifically, she compares and contrasts the characterization of the white and black characters. She argues that we learn the white characters’ “personalities, mannerisms, dress and histories” while the black characters are “obscured from us” (¶ 8). She concludes this argument by meditating on white privilege, “white privilege means not actually having to know black or brown people, to live among them but to never really see them, even in one’s own house” (¶ 8).
First, the obscuring of black characters is something I picked up on more during my second reading of the novel. I think Haines does an excellent job of explaining this phenomenon within the novel; while we are told the entire history and lineage of certain white families, we never really learn much about the black characters. This goes into a deeper point regarding the Finch’s maid, Calpurnia. Her sole function in the novel is to dole out wisdom and act as the mother Scout and Jem never had. As Haines puts it, Scout, Jem and Atticus never really see her for anything other than their maid. Although Haines is focusing on To Kill a Mockingbird, this quote made me think about the scene in Go Set a Watchman where Scout (going by Jean Louise later in life) visits Calpurnia after the latter’s grandson gets into legal trouble. Jean Louise/Scout cannot begin to understand why Calpurnia is giving her the cold shoulder despite recently uncovering her father Atticus’ own racist views. Hmm, I wonder why Calpurnia didn’t want to associate with the Finch’s anymore after Atticus started reading books on why desegregation was a bad thing?
Anyway, back to Mockingbird. Sharing similar views to Haines, author Roxane Gay also wrote an article about her feelings on To Kill a Mockinbgird in the New York Times. Specifically, she wrote a book review of Tom Santopietro aptly titled novel, Why ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ Matters: What Harper Lee’s Book and the Iconic American Film Mean to Us Today. While discussing the black characters, Gay, a bisexual black woman herself, writes,
“The black characters — Robinson and the family’s housekeeper, Calpurnia — are mostly there as figures onto which the white people around them can project various thoughts and feelings. They are narrative devices, not fully realized human beings” (¶ 2).
Just as Haines argues, Gay affirms that the black characters simply function as plot devices and exist to further the character arcs of the white characters. Gay goes on to explain that Santopietro’s defense of To Kill a Mockingbird (and subsequently the latter itself),
“Never does this book take chances or make a persuasive argument for why To Kill a Mockingbird matters to anyone but white people who inexplicably still do not understand the ills of racism, and seemingly need this book to show them the light” (¶ 5).
I found Gay’s statement here to be really thought provoking. It is hard to believe that this novel would be the “light” to expose people to the ills of racism, yet I can’t think of another text that is taught so widely and early on that deals with racial injustice. For some students, this very well could be their first in depth unmasking of the racist history of America’s justice system. But is this enough? I’d argue that it isn’t, simply because To Kill a Mockingbird addresses racism in a very safe way. Which leads me into the next section of this post regarding everyone’s favorite lawyer: Atticus Finch.
Examining Atticus Finch’s White Saviorism

The white savior is a trope in which a white character saves people of color from some sort of plight. Depending on the context of the movie/novel/TV show/etc, this plight can take on many variations. The white person almost always learns some sort of lesson at the end while the people of color remain one-dimensional throughout the work. Films such as The Help and Green Book, two films criticized for their depiction of the white savior trope, often receive many nominations during awards season (the latter actually won Best Picture during the 2019 Academy Awards.) See where this is going? Enter Atticus Finch, the lovable father and staunch defender of justice from To Kill a Mockingbird.
Not only is he one of the most famous literary characters, but due to Gregory Pecks’ Academy Award winning performance (there it is again) as Atticus in the film, Atticus was quickly solidified as one of the greatest fictional characters of all time. Back in 2016, even after the revelation in Go Set a Watchman that Atticus wasn’t actually all that great, The Guardian reported that he was still voted as literature’s most stirring hero by thousands of UK readers. He even beat out heavyweights such as Harry Potter and Katniss Everdeen for this title. I would even wager that if you ask random people on the street who their favorite literary character is, you will more than likely hear Atticus’s name. Clearly, the general public loves Atticus Finch.
However, others have since pointed out that Atticus isn’t really all that great and his character actually undermines the impact of To Kill a Mockingbird. Haines discusses Atticus after her rereading of the novel. She writes,
“Atticus is the unimpeachable and quintessential example of what it means to be a Good White Person, inspiring young people across the country to become lawyers and enabling white Americans to point again and again to a fictional character as proof that not all actual white people are racist” (¶ 10).
Haines’ assertion that Attius is the “unimpeachable and quintessential example of what it means to be a Good White Person” is further supported by just how many people love this character. However, what struck me about this quote is actually the last part: Attitucs being the token non-racist white guy, fictional or not. This statement by Haines made me think of all the white people that assert they can’t be racist because they have a black friend, voted for Obama, think Idris Elba is hot, etc. (Side note: CNN published a great article on how to respond to these types of microaggressions back in 2020).
I can imagine a white person being accused of racism and saying something along the lines of “I can’t be racist, To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite book!” and that is a problem. I think this harkens back to what Gay was arguing, that To Kill a Mockingbird does not take any risks in challenging white people’s understanding of racial injustice; it simply gives them a book to turn to so they can say they are enlightened to the issues black people face in America. “I understand racism, I read To Kill a Mockingbird!” Now, to be fair to Atticus, he did put him and his family at risk when he chose to defend Tom Robinson. Lest we forget that Bob Ewell did try to kill Jem and Scout as revenge. However, I’d still argue that To Kill a Mockingbird broaches the topic of systemic racial injustice in a safe and comfortable way when compared to more contemporary novels like Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give. Let me unpack that a bit.
TKAM vs. THUG: Dealing with Racial Injustice in a “Safe” Way
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When we think about dismantling systemic racism and teaching antiracism, white people need to be educated the most on this topic. Just as Haines and Gay both wrote about, as black women, they’ve experienced racism firsthand and don’t need to be told what makes racial injustice so terrible. Additionally, they both argue that To Kill a Mockingbird is a novel written by a white woman for white people to read and think of themselves as part of the solution, not the problem.
Let’s bring up Atticus Finch again: as I‘ve already established, people love the guy. At the time, he embodied what every man should be: courageous, wise, well-dressed and willing to do anything to protect his children and community. While reading To Kill a Mockingbird, it is almost impossible to not side with Atticus. Lee does a phenomenal job at painting him as the pillar of justice and goodness within the novel. However, this is also part of the problem and where the novel begins to play it safe. If the reader is meant to agree with Atticus wholeheartedly, then there is no room for the novel to challenge their own beliefs. When Atticus decides to defend Tom Robinson, the reader is meant to feel like this is the right thing to do. Therefore, even though Tom is clearly innocent, the reader is still disappointed when he is declared guilty. After the infamous courtroom scene, the subject of racial injustice is barely touched on again. There is the moment of Tom’s death, but even that is arguably mishandled.
Tom faces a horrific death; he is shot 17 times in the back as he is trying to escape from prison. Yet, I’d argue that there are some readers of this novel that are unsympathetic and blame Tom for his own demise. This is not unlike the number of unarmed black people we see killed by police today, and their deaths are viewed in almost the exact same way:
“Maybe if they didn’t run they wouldn’t have been shot.”
“Maybe if they didn’t reach into their pocket for his wallet they wouldn’t have been shot.”
“Maybe if they just listened to the officer they wouldn’t have been shot.”
This leads into another issue I think occurs when teaching this novel: because of the time period it is set in, students and readers tend to think that racism is an issue of the past. White people reading To Kill a Mockingbird can easily point to it and say, “See? This stuff happened in the 30s, but times are different now. Stuff like this doesn’t happen anymore!” If this novel is not taught in an effective way, some students may also begin to believe this. Therefore, I’d argue that a more contemporary novel like The Hate U Give would be more effective in teaching about systemic racism and racial injustice.
Within the first pages of Angie Thomas’ 2017 novel The Hate U Give, Thomas tackles the topics of racial injustice and police brutality head on. After getting pulled over on her way home from a party with her friend Khalil, the main character Starr Carter watches as Khalil (who is unarmed) gets shot by the officer. When Starr gets out of the car and tries to help Khalil, the officer then aims his gun at her. Unlike To Kill a Mockingbird where the trial of Tom Robinson is treated like a subplot, Thomas raises the stakes and highlights a plethora of issues within the first few pages of her novel. This moment also has ramifications for the rest of the story and it is not wrapped up in a nice bow like the trial in Mockingbird. Not only is Starr living a double life between her home in Garden Heights and her school, the predominately white Williamson Prep, she also must wrestle with the pressure of becoming a social activist as a result of Khalil’s death.
The novel deals heavily with Starr’s double consciousness, or her desire to stay true to her blackness while also trying to conform to a society controlled by the white majority. Additionally, unlike in Mockingbird where black characters are secondary, by having a black teenager narrate the story, we as readers are forced to view the world through a black person’s eyes. Although fictional, we are transported into a world that feels authentic and meet a cast of characters that feel believable. Unfortunately, the experiences represented are also not too uncommon; according to an 2021 NPR investigation,
“Since 2015, police officers have fatally shot at least 135 unarmed Black men and women nationwide. NPR reviewed police, court and other records to examine the details of the cases. At least 75% of the officers were white.”
Although tragic, this posits The Hate U Give as a novel that deals with an unarguably relevant issue happening in America today.
I would argue that having to wrestle with racial injustice in such close proximity, especially regarding a controversial issue such as police brutality, makes white people uncomfortable. This novel does not make it easy for readers to figure out right from wrong like in To Kill a Mockingbird; instead, it holds a mirror up to white people and asks them to think introspectively about how they might be part of a system that perpetuates racism. Obviously, this is difficult for some people to handle.
Take Starr’s friend Hayley for example; after making several racist comments towards Starr and blaming Khalil for his own death (“He was a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Somebody was gonna kill him eventually.”) Hayley tries to paint herself as the victim after Starr loses it on her. Hayley is the type of white person that is fine with adopting black culture (she loves singing rap songs and appropriates African American slang) yet becomes uncomfortable when actually broaching the subject of systemic racism. Hayley is the type of white person that would claim she can’t be racist because Starr is her best friend or because To Kill a Mockingbird is her favorite book. What makes Hayley such a great and interesting character is that she is so authentic. She is fine with Starr being black, until Starr’s experiences as a black person make her uncomfortable because it challenges her long held beliefs and white privilege. She says that she doesn’t see color as if it’s a positive thing when in reality she is invalidating a huge part of Starr and other black peoples’ identities and experiences.
These are all things that I’d argue make it difficult for some white people to read a novel that deals with racial injustice in such an authentic and raw way, because some readers might see nothing wrong with the things Hayley says. Starr not only challenges the characters within the text to reassess their biases, but she also challenges readers to think about how they might perpetuate racist ideals.
Final Thoughts: The Problem of Feeling Safe When Dealing with Racial Injustice
In this way, The Hate U Give refuses to allow a safe way out when dealing with racial injustice. Disregarding Starr’s white boyfriend Chris, there is no white savior here for white people to connect with and agree with. They cannot point to a white character like Atticus and say, “I agree with that person. See? I understand racial injustice!” Instead, some white readers might think, “Wait, am I part of the problem?” then get uncomfortable and close the book entirely. As a white man, I am not going to deny that there were times where I did feel uncomfortable reading this novel, mainly with the violence. During some moments, I missed the ease of reading To Kill a Mockingbird and not even having to think about the injustice during Tom Robinson’s trial.
Many people have suggested that The Hate U Give should replace To Kill a Mockingbird in schools. While reading The Hate U Give, I thought about how I could teach it if I was ever given the chance. I kept finding myself thinking that I would not be able to teach this novel in my classroom. Is that the truth or am I just uncomfortable with having to spark these difficult conversations surrounding systemic racism and racial injustice in my predominately white school district? I don’t really have an answer, but one thing I learned from taking this course is that sometimes difficult conversations need to be had in order for us to continue to grow as a society. We cannot, and should not, always feel safe, especially when this safety leads to a cycle of violence. By being comfortable and safe in our views, we risk becoming a part of the problem and perpetuating a system that is already disproportionately impacting millions of people of color in a negative way. Therefore, maybe it is time for us to move away from the comfort and safety of Atticus Finch and start to embrace the uncomfortable, but authentic, world of characters like Starr Carter.
