That's a good list, so I'll just add to
it.
Scout sees things from Walter Cunningham's perspective
when Miss Caroline tries to give him lunch money. She understands that the Cunninghams
won't take what they can't repay. When he comes to share the noon meal with them, she
is awed that he and Atticus can carry on such an adult conversation about things she
doesn't understand at all. (This doesn't keep her from being rude to her invited guest,
though.)
Scout, at the very end of the story, sees things
from Boo Radley's perspective. The conversation Atticus and Heck Tate have is fairly
veiled as they're arguing about letting the town know it was Boo who killed Bob Ewell.
When her father asks her if she understands, Scout remarks that it'd be just like
killing a mockingbird. She understands Boo's wish--need, even--to be kept out of the
public eye and speculation.
Scout and Jem both have a fresh
perspective on the cranky old woman they used to be afraid of--Mrs. Henry Lafayette
Dubose. While they didn't see things from her point of view until it was too late and
Mrs. Dubose had died, they did have a new appreciation for the courage it must have
taken to overcome such an addiction.
Certainly they both
got a new perspective on living a bi-racial existence in a segregated South from their
short encounter with Dolphus Raymond. From him they saw that race is not a determining
factor for human relationships, as well as the mindless prejudice of a town who needed
to find some other excuse to justify its intolerance.
Keep
looking, as there are undoubtedly more; nearly everyone in this novel teaches the
kids--and Scout in particular--to see things from another perspective. (How about Lula
at Cal's church who hates them because they're white; or Mr. Underwood who has no love
for blacks but is awfully intolerant of unfair treatment; or Mayella Ewell who is just
lonely and wants a friend--any friend.) Those two years, and particularly that summer,
were certainly growing times for the young Scout.
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