When I was young, pretty much all you could get me to read were movie novelizations—Gremlins, Back to the Future, Ghostbusters, Fletch,the list goes on. I loved them; consider it a lack of imagination. But at age twelve, I befriended a girl who read real books. In her attempts to smarten me up, she insisted that I read To Kill a Mockingbird and harassed me until I agreed.

The book changed my life. Never had I read a novel of such humanity and meaning. Had I ever in my elementary school education read a book with a theme? I marveled at Atticus Finch’s bravery in his defense of a falsely accused African-American in 1930s Alabama. I appreciated the realistic, unapologetic resolution to the trial—no sugar-coated ending here. To Kill a Mockingbird is a great story for children who are learning how think critically and dispel the ignorance of past generations. But it is also a story for us all; it reminds us to question our prejudices, to stand and fight for justice and equality in our society. To Kill a Mockingbird showed me that a novel could entertain and enlighten, a book could mean something and communicate powerful messages about human character and decency. It deserves its popularity. It begs to be read and discussed.