
Like many lawyers my age, I have always aspired to be the kind of attorney Atticus Finch was in the classic book, To Kill A Mockingbird. Gregory Peck played him to perfection in the movie. Atticus was wise. He was moral. He cared about his clients. He was understanding of their diverse backgrounds and how it shaped them. He wasn’t in the law to just make money. He didn’t keep time sheets. He was the epitome of the country lawyer/philosopher. Injustice aroused his anger. Racism and prejudice were two of the things he wanted to eliminate from the world his children would grow up in. He was a skilled advocate for his client Tom Robinson, a black man wrongfully accused of raping a white woman. And despite his best efforts, Tom was convicted, and subsequently killed after he escaped. Atticus was respected by most of the community, and misunderstood by some. He was the archetype attorney for the age before billboards, and annoying TV ads invaded our lives, forever damaging the image of the profession. He cared more for justice than catchy jingles, and you would never have seen him advertising on the back of a city bus.
We have a mockingbird at our house. It has a nest in a big shrub at the back corner of our home. It stands guard over our deck from a dogwood tree. I’m pretty sure it is some sort of Finch (ironically) that it tries to keep away from the leftover cat food. Speaking of cats, it has been known to dive-bomb them if they get too close to her nest. And it surveys its kingdom from our cupola. When it sings, you understand the story shared by Atticus’ daughter, Scout, a/k/a Jean Louise. “Atticus said to Jem one day, ‘I’d rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you’ll go after birds. Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit ’em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.’ That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it. ‘Your father’s right,’ she said. ‘Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.'”
I was out waking this Sunday morning, after having seen a second night of protests in Atlanta on TV. I heard our mockingbird sing from its diverse repertoire. I watched it sitting atop the Peace Dove weather vane on our cupola. It is an exact replica of the one George Washington had at Mount Vernon. What else would you expect at the home of a college history major, whose mediation practice is called Peace Like A River? It was at that moment I began to wonder, what words would Atticus Finch share about the racial tensions of 2020?
First, I expect he would logically, but passionately explain to his children what a tragedy it was that George Floyd was senselessly killed by a policeman, a sworn peace officer, whose duty it was to serve and protect. I think he would tell them that there was no excuse he could think of as to why it happened, and that he was glad he had not been appointed to represent the man, who had already been charged in his murder. He would tell them that like any other defendant in America, he had a right to a trial, and that it was wrong for us to ever rush to judgement without hearing all the evidence. He would explain that is where we get our word “prejudice,” which means to pre-judge. I think he would tell them that based on what he had seen from the video, the policeman was probably looking at a loss of his freedom for many years, and that Mr. Floyd’s family would likely receive a large sum of money in a separate civil case. He would tell them that our justice system has no way to adequately compensate or punish people where someone is wrongfully killed, but our system was the best anyone had come up with thus far.
He would tell them that too many young black men had lost their lives at the hands of law enforcement officers, and something needed to be done to stop it. He would tell them about body camera suggestions to keep people accountable. He would tell them that more training needed to be provided, to help the men and women in law enforcement to properly handle arrests and confrontations. I believe he would tell them that there are bad people in every line of work, who will not do their jobs well, who will abuse their power, and who will cause harm to others. But he would caution them that just because one person in a group commits a wrong, it would be equally wrong to lump all members of that group into the classification of “bad actors.” Contrary to what some factions would have you believe, not all policeman are killers, just like not all young black men are thugs. Not all whites are racist, and not all blacks are criminals. Far from it, the vast majority of people are decent folks who want to abide by the law, want to live in peace, and want everyone to be treated fairly and equally. He would again warn his children that to assume the worst about people different from them is unacceptable prejudice which would not be tolerated.
Then, I think he would remind them, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb in his skin and walk around in it.” As a mediator, myself, I could appreciate that line of thinking. Next, I believe he would suggest they try on some different skin and walk around in it for a while. First, he would probably insist that they wear a black man’s skin in the big city. He would have them imagine the fear they might experience whenever they encountered a law enforcement officer, in light of other black men who had died in police custody in the past. Then, he would have them consider what it must be like to know the history of unequal treatment under the law, as well as the daily dangers of the street where a stray bullet from gang violence might cut your life short at any moment. He would help them consider the frustrations of unemployment, or maybe a lack of a male role model, or the love of a father in the home. He would make sure they understood, black lives matter.
Then, he might have them slip on some other skin – that of a police officer. He might have them think what it would be like to risk your life every day, at a pretty low rate of pay. He might have them consider the lack of respect that is shown by the public they are serving because of actions that had been taken by other uniformed officers they have never even met. He would probably have them think about what it would be like to have your split-second life or death decisions dissected with the benefit of hindsight and digital, slow-motion, instant replay. He might have them consider the fellow officers who had lost their lives in the line of duty. He would probably have them consider what it would feel like to watch as a mob turned over your patrol car or set it on fire. He might have them dealing with a protest, where people are cursing you, throwing things at you (including human excrement) and trying to provoke something newsworthy they can capture on a cell phone’s camera. He would probably have them consider how hot it would be to wear full riot gear and gas masks in a deep south city when it was in the 80s. He would be sure they understood, blue lives matter.
Then, I suspect he would have them try on the skin of the innocent business and building owners in the areas of the protests. He would have them consider what it must be like to be hanging on to your solvency by a thread because of the COVID-19 pandemic and resulting closures, only to have hoodlums do great damage and loot your business. I suspect he would have them consider the betrayal they might feel because they were a non-white entrepreneur, who took a chance putting their business in a downtown area, only to have people of their own race destroy their dream. He would likely have them consider the hypocrisy of the people demanding justice, as they vandalize, loot, and lose all credibility with people who might otherwise be sympathetic to their cause. He would make sure they understood, all lives and livelihoods matter.
He would probably tell them that it is wrong to stand by when you see an injustice and do nothing. He would point out it was wrong that the other policemen failed to take action to intervene on behalf of George Floyd. He would likewise point out that the peaceful protesters who stood by and did nothing while burning, looting, and vandalizing of property was taking place around were wrong too. He would likely challenge his children to always speak up and take action where they could against such wrongs. I expect he might share his hope that credible leaders in the black community would condemn the violence, vandalism and theft and call on cooperation from peaceful protesters to help the police bring justice for the victims of these crimes.
He might warn of the unforeseen ripple effects of the violence in the city streets across America. He could point out the precarious budget shortfalls caused by the closures of businesses in recent months due to COVID-19, and how the overtime pay of extra law enforcement could lead to the bankruptcy of big cities, causing an economic spiral which could cost jobs, pensions and services. He might predict this climate leading to the exodus of good jobs from the cities and good men from the job of being police officers. He would likely warn of the danger of unfit men being the only ones willing to wear a police uniform, and the resulting consequences of an unending cycle of violence in war zones once known as downtown America. He would probably observe that the statement, “No justice, no peace,” is a catchy slogan that is leading to even more injustice, which threatens to carry America into an endless, destructive escalation of the chaos and anarchy.
He would explain to his children that most folks had a spelling problem when it came to justice. Too many people think it is “just us;” as in justice is for people just like us – who look like us, who think like us, who act like us, and who live like us. But justice is supposed to be for everybody, everywhere, all the time – and especially when you are mad about an injustice which has not yet been addressed.
Atticus might end his message to his children today by quoting Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King once said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” He also observed, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” I think he might have them imagine Dr. King shedding a tear for his message of nonviolence being perverted and hijacked, resulting in more senseless deaths and even the burning of a church.
It would be hard to be Atticus Finch today. Even our mockingbird makes me mad sometimes when it decorates our cupula with bird dropping from its perch on the Peace Dove. If you look closely at the photo above, you can see the white splatter on what my son, Grant, nicknamed the poopula. I just have to remind myself of the wisdom and patience of Atticus and the grace God shows all of us, His imperfect people.