To Kill a Mockingbird

This is not my first encounter with Harper Lee's classic novel. During my sophomore year of high school, we skimmed parts of the novel before watching portions of the 1960's film to cement the court scenes in our head. We focused almost entirely on the racial issues involved with Tom Robinson's trial and took no more than a cursory glance at the summer antics of Scout, Jem and Dill, let alone the entire Boo Radley storyline. I would have preferred to spend more time studying the novel instead of rushing through in an effort to increase the total number of books we "read." Reading through the novel again, I realize just how much we glossed over that first time through--effectively butchering the novel itself.

I sat down to read the novel over the break and really became engrossed in the simple innocence of the summers before the trial. Jem, Scout and Dill spending all day outside re-enacting books and letting their imaginations run wild. While I never got to the point of inventing stories of crazy murderers living down the street during my childhood, the story definitely provides a relatable experience. I remember spending hours outside playing with neighborhood kids until the street lights came on, serving as the signal to return home. Now instead of spending hours outside fooling around I spend most of my time sitting at a desk working. Such is the life of an adult.

After reading the first part of "To Kill a Mockingbird," I found myself wishing I could return to the life of a seven-year-old. A life unencumbered by responsibility and filled with simple answers to questions that now ignite lengthy debates. A time when parents were the final authority on everything--and therefore were seen as infallible--and when nap time in school was still a recent memory. Ironically, reading over spring break put me in a similar mindset to Scout. My week off seemed akin to her summers. But just as Scout had to deal with all of the adult themes surrounding her as she grew up, I am faced with the reality of returning to school, with all of the associated responsibilities--such as this post--included.

The revelations of Atticus' character and past as the novel progresses parallels what I have experienced with my parents. Just as Scout and Jem find out that Atticus is an excellent shot, I have come to develop a fuller picture of the life my parents led before me. Stories come out, often over dinner with cousins, aunts, and uncles of the times my dad played pranks on his little brother or got a speeding ticket racing a buddy down a farm road. Not exactly the stories parents would tell their children when they are young, but in knowing them, I have a better sense of the human side of them, not just the parental facade.

I'm of the mind that all great literature should be read at least twice throughout a lifetime. I can't think of a book that I have re-read without noticing more details and connecting more dots together. This makes sense as if you understand what meaningful events take place throughout a work, you gain a deeper appreciation of the hints and foreshadowing that are present. Even the most methodical reader couldn't hope to fully understand all of the messages in a novel on the first reading. For me, new dimensions to characters continue to appear in a good work as I read through again. (Watching a film adaptation often has the same effect by giving a different perspective.)

Progress

Our fourth meeting took place last Tuesday, but rather than going into the details of what we talked about, I would like to use this post to convey how our conversations have changed over the past month. After all, the main reason behind these meetings is to assist Haya with her comprehension of colloquial English and all of the associated idioms and cliches--it seems silly not to at least touch on her progress.

When I first met Haya, our conversations seemed somewhat arduous. We got the point across, but often had to restate an idea or event several times before finally succeeding. I never realized how colloquially I spoke, using common sayings or phrases as simply as taking a breath. Unfortunately though, English--or any other language for that matter, isn't taught as it is spoken. The proper form of the language is always taught from textbooks--leaving somewhat of a disconnect between native and foreign speakers. A gap that can only be bridged by conversation and time. Before our first meeting, I never thought of conversations as something that would leave me exhausted, at least mentally. Being in engineering, I'm used to feeling somewhat drained after a long day of math and complex concepts, but a conversation about where someone is from causing the same feeling was certainly a new experience to me.

Several times in that first meeting, I found myself searching for a fundamental way to explain an idea to Haya. Feeling lost in your own language is immensely discomforting, I can't imagine how Haya felt trying to follow my discontinuous sentences as I searched for a simple way to convey an idea. Language exists purely to facilitate communication, so it seems reasonable for there to be a difficulty in understanding someone who has only been regularly speaking your language for several months or conversely someone who has been speaking a language you hardly know for all his life.

Over the past few meetings I noticed a gradual change in our conversations. Haya was tripped up by fewer words and we began to converse more naturally. I don't know if this was more of a product of growing more comfortable in our meetings (which it certainly is for me) or if she was getting a better grasp on the language as a whole. I suppose it is probably a combination of the two as I think conversations generally become less forced as you become more accustomed to whomever you're speaking too, but I'd hope our conversations are having a positive effect on her studies.

In the first meeting  she paused eight or nine times to type an Arabic word into a translation app on her phone to help me understand what she was talking about. Now though, she only refers to her phone once or twice a meeting, instead using context and other words she knows for certain to develop an idea to the point where I can guess the right word she is searching for. I think this might be one of the more helpful consequences of our meetings, after all, it's rather hard to get an online translator to guess at what you are trying to say and even if it wasn't, that certainly wouldn't be the way to learn a language.

I do believe our conversations are helping Haya when it comes to learning more about how Americans speak the language. She speaks more naturally now that a month ago, and seemingly with more comfort.  The conversations offer an experience that would be irreplicable in a classroom full of students learning English as a second or third language. And for me, the conversations give insight into Saudi culture. Our conversations are obviously mutually beneficial and I hope they remain so as we continue.

Respect, Part 2

I met with Haya again last Tuesday. Our meetings were becoming somewhat routine, we usually spend the first five or so minutes making small talk before finally settling into a conversation. On this occasion we went back to the subject of our last conversation--respect.

During our previous meeting, we talked about how different people should respect each other and refrain from trying to prove the fallacies of their beliefs. Haya had related a story about how two individuals questioned her religious conviction based on a superficial (by its very nature) aspect. She wears a hijab, or a cloth covering her hair, but not all muslim women do and these individuals were questioning why she wears one when others obviously do not take it to be a requirement of Islam.

This past week we talked about a sign of (dis)respect that was much more mundane. About five minutes into our meeting, I crossed my legs so that my ankle was resting on my knee. A seemingly innocuous motion to me launched a thirty minute dialogue concerning the proper etiquette for foot position. She explained to me that in Saudi Arabia, her mother taught her to take care not to ever direct the sole of her shoe toward a stranger or somebody that was not a close friend. The bottom of the shoe becomes quite dirty over the course of even a single day and thus it can be taken as a sign of disrespect if you have the bottom of your shoe directed towards someone you do not know well. I hadn't ever thought about the small details of body posture being a sign of disrespect. I guess the idiom about 90% of communication being unspoken might have some truth behind it.

Now, after she explained this custom, the idea made perfect sense to me. For example, I would not consider it to be respectful (and certainly not professional) if I walked into the an office and propped my feet up on the desk before beginning a conversation. While that example is somewhat extreme, I believe that describes how Haya would feel if even one foot was resting on a table pointed in her direction.

Not everyone in Saudi Arabia follows this behavior though. According to Haya, some take no umbrage when soles are directed their way--although I'm sure tempers would flare if taken to the limit. She assured me that many would take offense to a sole directed at them. Regardless, I think that this small aspect of life in Saudi Arabia shows that their culture is much more detail-oriented than our own. From the three conversations I have had with Haya so far, it seems as if she was raised in a much more structured environment than me and my peers--to no detriment to either side.

Although I understand the concept now, I doubt I would have developed the same sensibilities myself. Maybe I'm not thoughtful when it comes to others, or maybe Haya's upbringing leaves a tendency to think about every aspect of appearance to minimize any possible faux pas. Don't think that I have anything against her way of things, but instead realize that we all place different importance on different actions or objects. The sooner we understand this concept as a society, smaller the world will be and the fewer problems we will have. With that being said, becoming homogenous as a society should not be a goal. The goal should be comprehending that in our differences, we are all the same, no matter our upbringing or nationality.