Climb into his skin and walk around in it

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view -- until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." This is one of my favorite lines from "To Kill a Mockingbird." And everyone knows how much I Iove that book.

I've said this for years, and after reading countless books since, I haven't changed my mind: Harper Lee's classic is the greatest novel of all time. It's fraught with life-lessons and quotes that teach us, challenge us and compel an "Amen!" out of us. The picturesque message is not foreign; it's the Atticus Finch version of the Golden Rule. It's how we should live our lives every day.

Let's set the scene: Atticus Finch, the epitome of integrity, told his feisty 6-year-old daughter how to better understand her teacher. After her first day of school, Scout was too-through with Miss Caroline and decided she would not go back. Atticus said if Scout would climb into her teacher's skin, she would realize she was new to the area and could not possibly understand "Maycomb ways in one day."

Scout wasn't known for patience and understanding and would have preferred not to follow his advice. Nonetheless, she would reflect on it and other sage words from her father as she grappled with what life threw at her. The lessons she and her brother, Jem, learned during a painful time in their young lives would remain with her and shape her view of the world.

What about us? How good are we at taking Atticus's advice? Do we climb into other people's skin and walk around in it? Let me take you to where the rubber meets the road. Republicans, do you climb into Democrats' skin and walk around in it? Men, do you climb into women's skin and walk around in it? Teenagers, do you climb into your parents' skin and walk around in it? Is anyone climbing into anyone's skin -- or are we just complaining that someone got under our skin? Are we walking around in it -- or are we just walking away?

These questions beg answers because we have to decide what kind of people we want to be. Increasingly, I hear about relationships severed because of politics, because of perspectives, because of people we don't even know personally. Everyone thinks they're right, and no one wants to give an inch, to concede someone else might have a point they hadn't considered.

My friend Kristi has taken to saying to me when I complain about someone, "Show him some grace." You could call that her rendition of "Climb into his skin and walk around in it" or "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you." When I hear that, I have a decision to make, just as Scout had a decision to make. I can show grace/climb into skin/do unto others -- or not -- just as you can do so -- or not.

I am not asking you which decision most people make. We already know the answer. I'm asking us to ask ourselves what decision we tend to make. And more important, I'm asking us to ask ourselves how our lives and the lives of others close to us would be better -- more joyful, peaceful and full -- if we decided to take Atticus's advice.

Last week, I wrote about the Whoopi Goldberg-Judge Jeanine Pirro feud and accusations of spitting on, cussing at and kicking out. That was just one example of the ridiculousness we see regularly. But if we would put into practice the words Atticus spoke to Scout, these occurrences would decrease. Surely, we are more disciplined in our behavior than a 6-year-old. Or do I have too much faith in humanity? Are we so far gone that we cannot exercise this kind of...well, kindness? I don't think so. Most of us have been taught better. We know better. We just have to choose to do better. We have to choose to exercise decency -- and we all know that exercise of any kind takes discipline. The climb is difficult. The walk takes effort. So when someone says to climb into another's skin and walk around in it, we fold our arms across our chests like 6-year-old Scouts battling our first-grade selves.

I believe, however, that if we put forth the effort to see others differently, we would discover something else, something Atticus told Scout at the conclusion of "To Kill a Mockingbird" -- spoiler alert to anyone who hasn't read the book:

"An' they chased him 'n' never could catch him 'cause they didn't know what he looked like, an' Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hadn't done any of those things ... Atticus, he was real nice ..."

His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.

"Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them."

So here's more food for thought: How willing are we to take the time to finally see them?

Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member. Contact her at aross@semissourian.com.