"I was taught never to take advantage of anybody who was less fortunate than myself, whether he be less fortunate in brains, wealth, or social position; it meant anybody, not just Negroes... That is the way I was raised, by a black woman and a white man." 
 I grew up on "To Kill a Mockingbird." 
 My mother's favorite book and movie, she 'forced' me to read the novel and watch the film adaptation when I was in fifth grade. Although most of the themes and profound moments went completely over my eleven-year-old head, I was still awestruck by the story: a woman, Jean Louise (or "Scout), looking back on her childhood in rural Alabama during the Great Depression, with a defense attorney for a father and a kind (yet oftentimes somber) older brother. 
 As I grew older, "To Kill a Mockingbird" seemed to grow with me. It was the first novel I had ever read that I wanted to dissect. I wanted to plunge myself into Maycomb, Alabama at least once a year and be swept away by Lee's beautiful prose. To put it simply, "To Kill a Mockingbird" has permeated my existence since I was eleven years old. 
 When I heard about "Go Set a Watchman" being published this year, I was insanely skeptical (and not just about the 'controversy' surrounding the actual release itself.) Did I really need another installment of "To Kill a Mockingbird?" Wasn't the original enough for me? 
 I was blown away by "Go Set a Watchman." It takes place in the heat of the civil rights movement, when Jean Louise is twenty-six and living in New York City. She comes home to visit with Atticus (who is now seventy-two), and she is appalled by the way her former Maycomb citizens are treating African Americans. 
 This was honestly the first book that I ever had to stop reading because I was sobbing too hard to continue. I cried big, ugly, sloppy tears, curled up in a ball, with mascara clumps dried to my cheeks. I felt such a connection to Jean Louise, which was only magnified by my love for her in "To Kill a Mockingbird." As strange as it may sound, I had grown up with Scout. I felt like I, too, had enacted plays in the yard with Jem and Dill, hopelessly taunting Boo Radley next door. I, too, had witnessed an innocent man be condemned for a crime he didn't commit. I, too, had seen my older brother grow up in the span of a few days (because let's face it, "To Kill a Mockingbird" was more about Jem's character growth than just about anything else.) 
 So when she observed people she had grown up with and people who had helped to raise her behave in such strange ways, I ached for her. I also felt like my childhood, that I had believed for so long to be so strong and secure, had all just been an illusion. 
 In my opinion, "To Kill a Mockingbird" was really about Jem's loss of childhood. "Go Set a Watchman" is all about Scout losing hers, but in a way gaining a new sense of self. It was a beautifully haunting piece of literature, only made more poignant when one reads it with "To Kill a Mockingbird" in mind. Because now, I don't truly think you can read "To Kill a Mockingbird" without delving into "Go Set a Watchman." Combined, they weave an intricate tale of a young girl coming to terms with her once-perceived 'perfect' childhood, her sense of what constitutes right and wrong, and her beloved father.