Courtesy: A Fading Art

When I was a child, things were a little different than they are today. In some ways it was better, in some ways it was worse. I could go on and on about those differences, but what I really want to discuss today is manners. Because my parents insisted on good manners, I notice them. I also notice when they are lacking.

I suppose part of that is also due to the fact that I live in the South, where people will look you right in the eye and smile while plotting your painful and grisly demise as recompense for some small slight, real or imagined. Gentility is highly prized here in the land of Julep and Magnolia; second only to religious piety and devotion.

But sometimes, it's a fragile and tenuous though impressively artful politesse. Sometimes its quite impossible to determine if the sentiments being so lavishly and elegantly expressed are as sincere as they are enthusiastic.

And yet, it is undeniably pleasant to be on the receiving end of such exaggerated courtesy.

For those reasons, rudeness is all the more conspicuous when it occurs.

Yesterday, Wes and I were running errands, one of which was to establish his first bank account. For some reason the waiting area for new accounts was strictly standing room only. I guess a lot of people had some sort of banking crisis over the long weekend. Wes and I went in, put our names on the list and began the wait.

As a couple of people were called back, I happened to spy one empty chair and made for it only to be told by the woman next to it that "My son is sitting here." (Her son was watching TV in the little kids section and did not return to the seat the entire time she waited!)

I was, quite frankly, shocked.

As a parent, to deny another adult a seat so my child could sit is simply unthinkable. And it has nothing to do with hyperbolic Southern convention. I was taught that children stand, adults sit. As a child, I knew better than to remain seated if an adult was standing. All of us did.

Perhaps that seems like an antiquated practice, but I don't think it really is, unless one considers respect for our elders an outmoded concept. In the book I am currently reading, one of the characters says "Respect for our elders is the cornerstone of civilized behavior."

I think there is something to that.

But I wonder if, more than simple rudeness, it's a symptom of a larger social ill; that being the increasingly kid-centric standard that governs our behavior these days.

Growing up, my parents were accessible, emotionally available, and always invested in us. But their lives did not revolve around ours. They had their own friends, their own interests, their own time together and with other adults. They loved us, but they were not defined by our successes or failures. They were devoted to bringing us up well, but not slaves to our every desire.

Looking at my own life, I'm not sure I can say the same. And I suspect this may be true for many other families as well.

But still, I insist upon a certain level of respect for and deference to adults. They know to stand if an adult needs a seat, they know to hold the door for an elderly lady or gentlemen (anybody, really, but especially them), they know that they don't interrupt or insert themselves into adult conversation. They know that to speak disrespectfully to other adults is an invitation to examine the ceiling cracks in their room. And, out of respect for my husband's deeply Southern heritage, I insist that my children address other adults as "Sir" and "Ma'am". And Heaven help them if they ever had a bad citizenship mark on their report card. Teachers have a hard enough job without having to teach manners and respect.

It's just the way things have always been for me and now for my children. I've never thought twice about it, because I was so thoroughly indoctrinated as a child.

You know, it's not that I couldn't have stood for the 20 minutes that we were there. I could have, quite easily. It was, perhaps, the overt rudeness that so thoroughly took me aback. And when I snapped to my son, "Well, I guess I'll just stand", she wasn't the least bit embarrassed. In fact, when another woman cleared a chair of her daughter’s belongings so I could sit, she shot daggers at me for the duration of our stay there.

So whether it was simply lack of manners on her part, a sense of entitlement on her child's part, or unrealistic expectations on my part...something about the entire experience rankled me.

Later Wes remarked upon the rudeness, and I was glad to know that he recognized it as such. My kids may be stubborn, loud, overdramatic, lacksadaisical and lazy...but they are polite.

So, if nothing else, I've left them a legacy that will really come in handy should they decide to make their home in the land of Julep and Magnolia.

But I hope it's more than that. I hope I've taught them not only to respect their elders, but to value their experience and wisdom. In an era where youth and beauty are valued above all else, that's a rare thing. I hope I've also done a decent job of making sure they don't get too caught up in their own importance. I hope they can recognize that they are just a small part of a larger, more significant thing.

While they are, of course, the center of my Universe, we don't really need to let them in on that part. They'll find out when their own children enter this world.

And when that happens, I'm sure the little devils will be unfailingly polite and respectful of their old Granny.

Or Else.