When Will We Ever Learn

When Will We Ever Learn?

“Careful. That whitewash may still be wet.”

“What are you talkin' 'bout? How would you know?”

“Helpin' paint picket fences is one of ma many talents. Used ta spend hours doin' it just fer fun.”

“Just fer fun? Sounds like work to me.”

“Then ya'll haven't ever met my good ol' pal Tom Sawyer. He'd talk ya inta it alright. But then agin, ya'll pretty little. Maybe ya couldn't handle the big ol' brush, anyways.”

“I'm plenty big enough to use a brush. Ya gots one on ya? I'll prove it to ya.”

“Na, they's got fancy maintenance people in uniforms ta do that kind o' stuff in this high-falutin' place. I'm free an' easy these days. What's ya name anyways. Wheres ya come from?”

“Scout. My name's 'Scout'. Maycomb. Maycomb, Alabamie, is wheres I come from.”

“Boy, ya'll a long way from home up here in Chicaga. How'd ya get here?”

“Don't rightly know. Just opened my eyes an' I'm a sittin' on that bench next ta that book. Thought I would look around tryin' ta figure wheres I at. Where's am I, anyways? Who are ya? Have ya seen my brother, Jem, or my friend, Dill?”

“This here's the American Writer's Museum in Chicaga, Illinoiz. It's a place where lots of famous or well known past writer's from all over the USA hang out to edicate and entertain folks. Name's 'Huck'. Iz comes from the south, too, along the Big Mississippi River. I popped out o' a book just like ya a whiles back.

“Come on. I'll show ya around a bit. It's a really grand place even if it's small. Iz even think I've seen your book here somewheres. Look up above. There's a rainbow of books up there. See one by Miss Harper? That's the same as the one on the bench. A visitor must o' left that behind. Haven't seen ya folks, tho.”

“They're always off on some adventure. They'll be sorry they missed this place.”

“Hey, Iz like adventure, too. Kinda known fer 'em. Stay close an I'll take ya on one now.

“Sos this here room with the picket fence around it is the kid's corner. See the giant oak tree with the little woodland critters curled up in the nooks and crannies o' the branches all a readin' some sort of book. 'Wizard o' Oz', Richard Scarry, 'Cat 'n the Hat' an' others. Big mural paintings on the walls like 'Charlotte's Web'. Bean-bag chairs and cozy couches fer little ones ta curl up in an' have books read ta 'em. An' some fun interactive adventures, too. Kid's can explore an' get lost in this corner.

“This long wall is filled with banner's showing picture's o' authors with some o' their famous words and when they lived. Here's the desk a Mr. Ray Bradbury used. On these tables are typewriters some o' them there authors actually worked with when they wrote their masterpieces. Ya can type some wisdom of your own and pin it on the wall or add ta the story o' the day. Guests create a line ta advance the story started out with a famous first line from a novel, short story, poem, screen play, song or news report. All forms o' written art are represented.

“With these buttons ya can find out what authors liked the same things ya'll like. Other interactive ideas tell ya the story behind the stories and a lot more. Look at that waterfall o' ever-changing words that are quoted from favorites.

“Here's a whole nation showing where writers come from. Ya'll's creator, Lee Harper, come from the same hometown as Truman Capote who wrote 'In Cold Blood'. Betcha never knew that! They even wrote something together once.”

“I never even knew I was created other than by Atticus, and, o' course, Ma who I don't remember.”

“Na, we's all what they call 'characters'. Some o' us are 'protagonists' and some are 'antagonists'. But we live our lives in their creations with conflicts and resolutions and 'character arcs' that prove we learned sumpin' or maybe we didn't learn nuthin'. I know Miss Watson tried to 'sivilize' me with all kinds o' learnin' an' I had ta get away from it all. Iz happiest just floatin' down the Mississippi with good ol' Jim. Boy, did we have some sketchy adventures!”

“Well, I don't know if I'm an agonist or what. Thought I was Baptist. Atticus tried ta teach me right from wrong but things sure got mixed up in my town. See that wall o' Negroes there? Says they was all real educated and wrote a lot o' wise things. But Atticus, ya see he's a lawyer, and a good one, he proved this black man in our town was a good man and never did the cruel thing he was accused o'. But the jury said he was guilty anyway. When poor Mista Robinson tried to escape they shot him dead.

“All along it was this mean ol' girl's daddy that did the mean things to her. Then that mean ol' man tried to hurt Jem an' me. Broke Jem's arm. But Boo came to our rescue. I was always afraid of Boo when I was littler but he turned out to be a good man after all. He just acted differently. Anyways. Hard to understand the justice when an innocent man is thrown in jail 'cause of the color of his skin.”

“Yeah, ma friend ol' Jim was a slave who just wanted ta get home ta his wife an' kids. We had an awful time sortin' that all out. Not right fer someone ta own another person but anyone wit' dark skin were thought o' more like animals in ma time.”

“My time was seventy years after slavery was done away with yet they was still treated poorly. Looks like what this man King says they was still suffering thirty years past my time and fightin' fer rights. When will we ever learn? When will we ever learn?”

“Ya know, Scout, ya'll real smart an' kinda cute even if ya dress like a boy in ya rolled-up bib overalls. But we needs ta get back inta our books 'fore folks come in. Think I can see ya agin tanight afta the place closes up?

WWW

americanwritersmuseum.org