There was one odd thing, though, that I never understood: in spite of Atticus’s shortcomings as a parent,
people were content to re-elect him to the state legislature that year, as usual, without opposition.
I came to the conclusion that people were just peculiar, I withdrew from them, and never thought about them until I was forced to.
I was forced to one day in school. Once a week, we had a Current Events period.
Each child was supposed to clip an item from a newspaper, absorb its contents, and reveal them to the class.
This practice allegedly overcame a variety of evils: standing in front of his fellows encouraged good posture and gave a child poise;
delivering a short talk made him word-conscious; learning his current event strengthened his memory;
being singled out made him more than ever anxious to return to the Group.
The idea was profound, but as usual, in Maycomb it didn’t work very well.
In the first place, few rural children had access to newspapers, so the burden of Current Events was borne by the town children,
convincing the bus children more deeply that the town children got all the attention anyway.
The rural children who could, usually brought clippings from what they called The Grit Paper,
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