Sometimes we can all be like Mrs. Dubos, the mean neighbor in the classic film To Kill a Mockingbird. Set during the mid-1930s, the film explores life in a tiny Alabama town through the eyes of a nine-year-old girl, Scout. The elderly Mrs. Dubos spends her days sitting on her front porch, watching the neighborhood with eagle eyes. “When you walk by her house, don’t look at her or say a word,” Scout warns one of her playmates, a newcomer to town, “because she keeps a Confederate pistol in her lap and she’s as soon shoot you as look at you.”
Scout’s devilish sense of humor keeps her from following her own advice. Minutes after warning her friend, she strolls by the old woman’s house and casually calls out, “Hey there, Mrs. Dubos!”
“Don’t you say ‘Hey’ to me, you ugly little girl!” Mrs. Dubos shouts back angrily. “You say, ‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Dubos!’ Didn’t anyone teach you any manners? You come back here when I’m talking to you! Do you hear me? You come back here right now!”
There seems to be a prevailing temptation these
days to behave like Mrs. Dubos—to sit on our front porches or on social
media (the front porch’s modern equivalent), looking for any excuse to
be offended, level anger or criticism, or write off others as being the
problem. Perhaps a year and a half of social isolation or watching
24-hour news channels is to blame. But I suspect the trend predates the
pandemic.
Last
week I enjoyed a long, leisurely dinner out with a half-dozen people,
some long-time friends, and some new acquaintances. The age range of
those at the table spanned a good 25 years—which for me, is generally
the norm. Afterward, someone commented on how wonderful it was to “have
young friends.” I wholeheartedly agreed. It’s too easy for all of us to
self-segregate generationally. Very quickly, whether we’re in our 20s,
30s, 40s, or older, we can find ourselves living in generational echo
chambers. Before we know it, we’re complaining about “old people” or
“these young people today,” even when only a decade separates us from
them.
Age
is just one way in which we self-segregate. There are, of course, many
others. There seems to be no shortage of labels to choose from. Once
we’ve selected our appropriate identity, it becomes easy to sit on our
proverbial front porch (our safe zone), gazing with zealously suspicious
eyes on everyone passing by.
Perhaps
if we venture from the safe shade of our respective porches, walk
around a few blocks in our neighborhoods, and initially force ourselves
to interact with strangers, repressing any immediate leaps to judgment,
we’ll discover that the world isn’t that scary a place after all.
Rob Lauer is an award-winning, nationally-produced and published playwright with over 35 years of experience in the entertainment industry. His national credits include production work for MGA Films, Time/Warner TV, The Learning Channel and The History Channel. Locally, Rob has been producing, directing and hosting three TV series for PCTV (the City of Portsmouth’s official channel) since 2011.