something I've learned...

I was listening to one of those radio call-in shows where the hosts have a topic and they get the opinions of their audience (and sometimes tell the audience member why they disagree with them). The topic was related to some new comedy coming out where a character - apparently, kind of a sleazy character - talks about "retards."

And there are groups set to protest this movie. They want the use of the words "retarded" or "retard" banned (or so say the radio hosts; I have not heard the original story so I don't know for sure).

And the hosts made an interesting point, one I realized I had come to realize myself but had not really articulated:

When people use "offensive" words in that kind of a situation, they're actually telling you more about THEMSELVES than the person about whom they are talking. One of the hosts pointed out that the movie character using the offensive word comes off as a 'stupid sleazebag' and that you dislike him all the more for the use of the word. In other words - that the movie is not specifically being demeaning to the mentally challenged; rather, it is showing the insensitivity of a particular character.

And I think unfortunately that's a shade of meaning that's often lost in today's world. (The hosts blamed it on people giving words more "power" than they actually have and people letting themselves feel like they're defined by what other people say).

Predictably, they got people calling in all incensed that they even dared SAY that the word shouldn't be banned outright - kind of proving their point, the people were very huffy and hurt and one of them pulled out the "but I have a mentally challenged child" credentials.

And you know, I sympathize. I know people who have children with various challenges. It's hard, and it's sometimes frustrating, and it can be exhausting to care for someone who has more needs than a typical child, and who may never grow up to be independent.

But the problem is, we cannot - nor should we try to - legislate other people's behavior by banning certain words. (Because once you start, where do you stop?)

But I thought about this, and my own experience - and one of the blessings of some level of maturity is that I am a lot less sensitive to what people may say to me when they're trying to insult me.

A simple example: take the word "bitch."

Originally meant as a simple descriptor for a female dog, now it has all kinds of shades of meaning - from a manipulative woman, to a screechy one, to one who is just mean.

I've also seen the word used when someone didn't get something they wanted, something they thought they were entitled to, from a woman.

Heck, I've been CALLED it by students who thought I should give them something (like extra credit) that I was either not empowered to do or that would conflict with my ethical principles if I did.

But the thing is - I know who I am. I am NOT a "bitch." I try very hard to be a nice person, a compassionate and kind person. If I have to be tough with someone, I am kind of apologetic about it, I kind of take the tack of, "I am sorry but I cannot do what you are asking and here are the reasons why."

So if a student uses that word to refer to me, I can kind of shrug and go, "Well, they're angry right now and that's why they're saying it." Or I can think, "Wow, it's kind of unwise for them to use that term with a professor." But I'm not really offended, because as I said, I know who I am and I know that word doesn't define me, and I've come to realize that there are times when people say something they might not really mean - or might regret when they think more coolly about it - because they're upset.

If someone were to use even harsher language (not that I've ever had it happen to me), my first thought would probably be, "Wow, that's really impolite of them" or "Gee, they must not be very well brought up to think it's appropriate to use a word like that in this context" rather than getting offended. (If someone were being truly abusive to my face, I'd probably see if I could politely send them away and ask them to come back when they could be civil.)

One thing the hosts talked about was the idea of giving the word power beyond what it has. I think my comment about not letting someone else "define" you fits in with that.

Another thought - my father has a saying he likes, that goes something like, "Freedom of speech is great in part because the a-holes self-identify." That is, because people aren't constrained by some rule about what words they can and cannot use, you can kind of hear who the real person is. So someone who uses rude slang terms to refer to members of certain groups - you kind of know where they're coming from. Someone who speaks disrespectfully of the people who work with them - you know where their head's at.

I do think when someone uses rude language to talk about people - like this mythical movie "retard" example - you learn more about the person that is saying the words, than about the person about whom they are talking.

For example - up above, I used the word "mentally challenged." I admit, I don't particularly like the phrase, it seems kind of mushy to me and it's long to type out. But the people I know who have kids with that condition, that's what they prefer people around them use. So that's what I use, out of respect for them. (And I don't know anything that's better and polite). I think a big part of it is learning to treat people as individuals rather than as groups - I know people who prefer to be called "Black," where there are others I know who want to be called "African-American." And I even once knew a man who said he thought "colored" was fine, because, "After all, that's what my skin is!"

Yeah, it took a little remembering to know what term (if one had to be used) was the preferred term for different people, but it wasn't a big deal. And I figured it did a little bit towards being kind to people, to respecting them. (Another thing I've learned - if someone is Native, you need to know what tribe or tribes they have affiliation with. I kind of knew that already but I've known a few people to use the wrong name and then shrug and go "whatever" when someone corrected them. I think that would be something like telling someone you were from New Hampshire and they kept saying you were from New York, and shrugging and going "whatever" when you corrected them - but even more so, when you're talking about someone's heritage).

I do think it's a fair and respectful thing to make an effort to use respectful language with other people. (And that includes not cursing around someone you know will be offended by it - despite my occasional f-bomb on the FFOT, I almost NEVER use harsh language in real life, preferring to err on the side of being too proper).

But I do think people are too quick to take offense - usually people who use "offensive" language are one of three things: either they are ignorant (in which case an explanation may help; I know when I've said something out of ignorance that offended someone, I was mortified to find out and would apologize them and promise to change in the future), or they don't really care, or they are deliberately trying to cause upset.

And there's not a lot you can do about someone who doesn't care. I've dealt with people like that; they think rather than bending themselves a bit to fit in with society, society should just part like a stream around them and let them do their thing. And that's fine, if you like people avoiding you.

But the people who are deliberately trying to cause upset - why give them that power? Why not just shrug and go, "They're badly brought up" or "They think they know how to insult me" and then ignore them - because if we can ignore the rude words, the person uttering them as a weapon loses. If we can avoid rising to the bait, we win.

Another example from my life: when I was a child, I was teased pretty harshly. Not as bad, I guess, as happens today, with text messaging and teenagers leaving malicious messages on answering machines (like, pretending to be a pregnancy clinic and leaving "positive" test results for the daughter of the household on an answering machine her parents would listen to). But I was treated harshly enough.

In a way, it was probably a valuable (if painful) education; first, I learned to be more compassionate. And second, I began to learn the lesson that sometimes people say unkind things that are not true.

I remember coming home from first grade (I think it was) in tears one day. Why? A group of the kids thought it was clever to start calling me "Retard" in the halls. (A common joke for them - yell out "Hey retard!" [or whatever insulting term] behind the target, and if the target turns around to see who is yelling, go "You know your name!" and laugh.)

And okay - when you are six, it does hurt. It hurts a hell of a lot.

But my mom reminded me of something (by way of trying to make me feel better) - that the kids were just yelling the word because it was a rude and hurtful word. She pointed out that first, it wasn't even true, because I was in the most advanced reading AND math groups in my class. And second - more importantly - that that was a rude word, a cruel word, and kind-hearted, polite people didn't use it, even if they were really referring to someone who had mental retardation.

And that kind of thing continued. I remember a bit later my mom looking the word "slut" up in all her dictionaries - because some kids on the bus had started calling me that. She wanted to know if there was some secondary meaning she was unaware of, because in her mind, her shy innocent nine-year-old (who had yet to even so much as hold hands with a boy) could in no way fit that description.

Her final conclusion - which she explained to me - was that the kids probably heard an older sibling using that term, they knew it was a rude thing to say, and so they used it without knowing its meaning. (I have no idea if that bit is actually true, but as I said - I had not even held hands with a boy at that point. Oh, I had boys who were FRIENDS, but not boy-friends, not in that way yet.)

And so I guess I kind of had a baptism by fire into the world of dealing with unkind people when I was a child. Perhaps it's made me stronger as an adult, and perhaps those many lessons (that other people's rude words don't define you, that people sometimes say things they don't really mean, that often people say nasty stuff because they think it makes them look better or feel better) have finally begun to sink in as an adult.

I admit I don't always do this "water off a duck's back" thing perfectly well - not getting offended or, more commonly for me, hurt, when someone says something nasty and untrue. But I'm getting better at it as time goes on.

sign of the times...

...I guess.

In the building where I teach today, there are big wide hallways. These hallways have groups of chairs here and there, between the classrooms, so students between classes have a place to sit and study (or sleep, or chat, or read).

Well, today I noticed some new signs. Computer printed, 8 1/2 by 11 sheets, laminated and stuck to the wall about every 10 feet.

They said:

PLEASE KEEP YOUR VOICES DOWN.

While I don't argue it's a useful admonition, it makes me kind of sad that it has to be there - I mean, the people sitting in the chairs KNOW they are no more than 10 feet from a classroom door - and our classrooms are not soundproofed, and I, for one, prefer to leave the door to the room open (in case anyone arrives late, or if someone has a coughing fit and has to go to the water fountain).

I mean - you'd think people would realize that talking loudly disrupts the classes in process. (I know I have had to talk to a few people over the years, mainly when I was proctoring exams and the people who finished early would go hang out in the hall - and sometimes even DISCUSS the exam they had just finished. Uh, guys? You do know there are people still TAKING the exam?)

Usually I'd just go to the door, glare out in the hall at the offenders, and loudly-but-not-slamming close the door.

But you know? I wonder if this isn't how life is getting to be, at least for a while: that everyone needs little etiquette reminders everywhere (like at the post office: "Don't talk on your cell phone while we are serving you." Or on the train: "Parents, please do not let your children run unattended up and down the aisles.")

I wonder if this is some kind of (il)logical extension of the "CYA advisements" (or "dummy-rules") that come on so many products these days - like the infamous cardboard sunshade that had three lines of directions on how to set it up and take it down, and a fourth line saying, "Caution: do not drive with sunshade in place." What I mean by this is, have we decayed to the point as a society that we're going to do something unless we're specifically told not to, either because we figure "if they don't tell us it's dangerous, it must be safe" or "I'm going to do what I want and if it disturbs other people, the Hell with them"?

I don't know. I will say in my class this morning there was a guy right on the front row with a Bluetooth piece wedged in his ear, which made me shudder inwardly a bit (He didn't use it while in class, at least)

rudeness: we has it.

In one of my classes, the students are doing presentations this week. I enjoy that (I'm off the hook from talking, and also, some students who don't do that well on exams do excellent presentations, and that makes me happy - it makes me feel like, "well, this levels things for them a little bit").

But one guy today was having a hard time. His project just wasn't that good (and believe me, I tried to help him choose better) and he just wasn't presenting very well.

The smartass of the class (sits in the back row, has a big ego, constantly talks about the high grades he's getting - they're really not all that, but I let him live because he periodically says something so FUNNY in response to one of my questions that I actually crack up in front of the class) started whispering with the two girls on either side of him. Whispering about how the presentation "sucked" and all that.

Now, I ask you: These people are, like, 20 years old. We are in a classroom that is, at best, 25 feet by 15 feet. Does he not think the guy knows what's going on? Especially when I've stopped him mid-comment throughout the semester to ask him if he "has anything to share." Or do they have no tact? Part of the reason the guy up front was having a hard time was that he was un-used to presenting and was nervous.

I turned around and glared at the guy and his "lady friends" and they shut up, but I felt like that was something I should not have had to have done.

Sometimes my college students are as immature as my youth group kids. And that's saying a lot.

(And speaking of youth group: I have a problem. Several of the kids have cell phones and I'm getting INCREDIBLY SICK AND TIRED of having to remind them to a. turn the dang thing off during the lesson or group time, b. not play loud raunchy music on them when they're waiting for dinner, and c. not text each other at dinner. (I ask you: they sit across the table from each other and text each other. Either they're sending off-color jokes they don't want me to hear, or they're just so dang addicted to it they can't stop.) I've contemplated confiscating the cell phones until the end of the evening when they're abused, but I'm a little afraid of getting an irate call from a parent over it - some of the parents are incredibly protective of their kids' stuff. If it weren't so expensive (and so hard to get permission), I'd build a dang Faraday cage in the Youth room to block signals.

It's like - I spend all this time talking about community and caring for one another and not closing people out of the circle, and here they are, heads down, texting. Or calling people not in the group to tease them or claim that "J. likes you!" while J. protests in the background "I don't and you suck!" Or something.

I'm beginning to feel that cell phones are more of a detriment than a benefit to our society. I went to the post office today and saw the signs they have up all over the place - "Please Refrain from Using Cell Phones While Talking to Clerk." and I thought, "what a screwed up society that we can't figure that out on our own; that we can't take 30 seconds of our life to actually interact with the human being who is serving us, because we think we're so important and our conversation with the person on the other end is so important."

It makes me profoundly sad sometimes, and it makes me wonder where we're going to go from here. I don't like endless rules and regulations but honestly, the way some people act, I fear the 90% of people who use consideration and follow the unwritten rules of etiquette are going to get regulated to death because of the 10% who are too clueless to consider the feelings of others. And of course the 10% will continue to violate the rules, and we'll just get more rules heaped on our heads as a result.)

My night, last night

I was sitting at my desk this afternoon, really tired, when I remembered why.

This was my night last night:

Neighbor's dog: "bark. Bark. Bark-bark-bark. Bark. Barrrrrrrk. Whine."

then about 30 seconds of silence.

Then: Neighbor's dog: "bark. Bark. Bark-bark-bark. Bark. Barrrrrrrk. Whine."
Neighbor's dog: "bark. Bark. Bark-bark-bark. Bark. Barrrrrrrk. Whine."
Neighbor's dog: "bark. Bark. Bark-bark-bark. Bark. Barrrrrrrk. Whine."
Neighbor's dog: "bark. Bark. Bark-bark-bark. Bark. Barrrrrrrk. Whine."

(I could write a GOTO loop to basically give the full effect).

It's also been HOT here again - and that is WRONG. I had to get up and put the ceiling fan on.

And then I got up and dug out a set of the earplugs I bought for traveling. I hate using them at home because I'm always fearful that if my house catches fire, I won't hear the alarm in time. But sometimes you just have to balance the minute risk of being immolated against the pain of not sleeping.

They helped, but not as much as you'd think.

I don't know what to do about the dog. I am not 100% sure which neighbor it is - whether it's the one directly north of me (the cop and his family), or the renters across the street from them (they have a puppy they often stake out in the yard during the day) or Domestic Dispute Couple in the house behind me (I call them that because just about every time I've been out in my backyard this summer, they've been yelling and cursing at each other. If it's their dog, there's probably nothing I can do, because I suspect it's ill-advised to go over to a couple of people who have no problem with using the "m.f." word at each other (and the man using the "c." word to the woman) in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday and ask them if they'd consider taking their dog indoors because when it's out at night, the barking keeps me awake.)

I'm kind of to the point where I can't do much more - I am INSIDE my house, with the windows shut, with the ceiling fan running, with a white-noise machine running. And I can still hear the blasted thing. (I tried turning the white-noise machine up, but as soon as it's high enough to cover the barking, it's so loud I can't sleep).

I don't know. I hate to say it but if this sort of thing continues, my only solution may be to put my house on the market and buy a couple acres out in the country, build a house smackdab in the middle of my land, and hire a builder who knows well how to soundproof.

But why - WHY - are people so inconsiderate? If you can hear your dog, surely other people can hear it, too? (Yes, I know, maybe the people were out for the night and had to put the dog out in case it had to pee). But I'm such a bad sleeper to begin with that any kind of "irregular" noise (as opposed to something like a white-noise generator where the noise is steady) keeps me from sleeping - boom cars, people yelling outside, dogs.

I'm sure I'm not the only one. One summer I had to move into my guest bedroom because of loud neighbors on one side (I'd do that now, except my neighbors on that side...it's two men and one of the guys' wives...have got a band started up. So far it sounds like the only thing they know how to play are the first seven chords of "Smoke on the Water" but what they lack in virtuosity they make up in volume and repetition).

I think this may be an extension of what I am now calling "Living-room Bubble" syndrome, where people think there's a huge bubble around them where ever they are, and whatever they do doesn't affect other people, or the effect it has on them doesn't matter - kind of like the loud cell-phone talkers with the TMI conversations.

People bug me sometimes.

Emerging etiquette

Here's something I've been wondering about.

I don't know much about the "historical" things I am going to speculate on...for one thing, both of my parents' families didn't get television or (in one case) a telephone until after my parents were out of their respective nests, so I am solely going by gut-feelings and what I've read in books.

But I wonder if for every new technology, there's a period of "shaking out," where the ethics and etiquette of how and when that technology is used has to kind of be tested and tried.

I got to thinking about this after the last time I was at the post office. They have a sign up now, that basically says, "If you are chatting with someone on your cell phone when you reach the head of the line, we will serve the NEXT person in line behind you, unless you end your conversation."

Which seems eminently fair to me - one thing I don't enjoy seeing is people throwing money at wal-mart cashiers, treating them as if they're automatons, because whatever's being discussed on the dang cell phone is, apparently, so important that the person can't pause for 30 seconds to acknowledge the humanity of the person in front of them.

I wonder if in the coming year, we'll see more of a backlash like that: people refusing to serve people on cell phones. Waiters telling patrons talking loudly on cell phones to shut up or take it outside (a friend of mine informs me that in some of the better, more cosmopolitan restaurants, that's already happening).

Maybe even a ban on people talking in movies? (And I might start going to movies again, then.)

I wonder what happened with previous "new" technologies...we're still figuring out cell phones and e-mail and blogs.

With e-mail, a lot of people have suggested the 24-hour-rule: if you write an angry or critical e-mail, hold off on sending it for 24 hours (I think some mail clients even have an option you can set to "hold" mail before you finally send) so you can decide whether or not the tone was appropriate. (However, this is actually an older rule: I've seen it applied to letter-writing. I mean, "real" letters, ones made with a pen and paper.) And we're still figuring out what kinds of e-mails are appropriate to send at work, and we're still learning just how permanent your e-mail record is.

(And that last can act in your favor: a good friend of mine is on our campus' academic appeals committee and he says that in some cases, the he-said, she-said situation is solved by one or the other party producing a copy of an e-mail they sent or received that supports their position. And I've done that: sent e-mails to students warning them, "If you don't start showing up to class, you will fail" which should be obvious, but sometimes, when someone's been enabled all through their educational lives, nothing is "obvious." So if they come back and demand a grade adjustment, I can produce a copy of the e-mail and shrug and say, "I warned them.")

And with cell-phones: I think the two big etiquette issues are

a. where is it appropriate to talk on the phone

and

b. when is it appropriate to answer your phone (or, for that matter, have it turned on at all.)

I think we're still working on a. I tend to have a stricter view than a lot of people: I'd like to see it perceived as "tacky" for someone to walk through a store, talking on their phone. Part of that is because I've nearly been run down by people doing that: they become kind of oblivious. I would think the proper thing to do would be to find a non-busy area of the store, and stand still and talk, and finish the conversation as fast as possible.

And I think it's inappropriate to talk on the phone - emergency situations barred - if you are involved in some kind of face-to-face conversation.

As for b., I'd observe that it's tacky to answer the cell phone (again, barring emergency situations, and I'd extend "emergency" to "I'm waiting on the shop to call me to let me know my car's done") when you're talking with another person.

(I can't remember which blog I read it on, but someone was talking about the appropriate response to someone answering their cell-phone mid-conversation with you, and then launching into a "frivolous" conversation with the person on the other end of the cell phone while putting you on "hold" (usually by holding up a hand). The person writing the blog said they felt their response would be to respond to the hand with one particular finger (you guess which one) and walk away.)

I guess I tend to think in terms of priorities. "Emergency" takes top priority, "Logistics" (like - getting a call from the shop to let you know your car's done) also get a high priority. (I was working with a student yesterday and his wife called him to let him know she was home: I regard that as a "logistics" call because the two of them have but one car). Simple conversations - not so much. It doesn't feel fair to tell the person you're talking with IN PERSON that "this conversation on my cell phone is much more interesting than you." Surely it's possible to say, "I'm busy, I will call back."? I mean, unless the person on the phone is embarking on a cruise to Darkest Africa or something, but seriously, how often does that happen?

I also don't like it when people answer phones in class. (Yes, it has happened to me.) I stop dead in my teaching, and stand there and GLARE at them until they get the hint (usually saying, "I can't talk now, bye.") and hang up. That happens rarely but it has happened more than once in my teaching career.

Likewise: in church, in a wedding, at a funeral, at a play, in a concert, in a lecture, in a museum: don't take a conversation. There should be some places in our society where we have quiet and where we get to concentrate on what is being said or what we are observing. (I was very offended the last time I was in a museum: a couple was on the phone chatting with a friend, and they were doing it LOUDLY and right in front of an exhibit several people - self included - wanted to see). I would think people should (again, excepting emergencies) be expected to turn off their cell phones in those situations. (Some places have reminders; I've seen it in concert programs).

Thinking about this, though, made me wonder: what did people do when television, and earlier, telephones first came out?

My parents were among the first generation to have television (but as I said, in both their cases, their families didn't get tvs until my mom and my dad were in college - in fact, I think they had married before my mom's parents got tv.). I do know a few simple etiquette rules that used to be in practice when I was a kid:

1. If someone is over at your house, you don't turn on the television unless
a. it's a national-emergency situation, like the president has been shot or something
or
b. you expressly invited them over to watch something - like the last game of the World Series, for example.

However, recently, I've been at people's houses for visits (and not close family; they're exempt from this rule) and they've turned on the tv. In one memorable case, I was at a meeting at someone's house - for a committee I was on - and the woman who's house we were at wanted to watch "Survivor," so she put it on WHILE WE WERE TRYING TO CONDUCT THE MEETING.

When it's just a social visit and someone switches on the tv, I take it as a cue to leave. Even if the person insists they don't want me to go. Unless I came to their house with the expectation of watching something, having someone switch on the tv tells me "I am now bored with your company."

I do understand - from some of my reading - that in its earlier days, television was more of a social event. Now, mainly (at least in my circle) people get together for Super Bowl parties and such, and watch sporting events together. But it seems that in the early days, people with tvs would invite friends (especially friends who did not yet have tvs) over for things like the Kraft Theater and other more "highbrow" programs. (I suppose not unlike friends getting together to watch a dvd today).

I also wonder about the telephone - an older technology, one that no one in my family would remember the invention of (Well, no one living). I don't know much about the early etiquette of the telephone, aside from having read that some people feared the interruption it would cause, that it would put people at the beck and call of others (hmm, kind of like cell phones today - one of the reasons I don't give out my number, one of the reasons I don't turn the dang thing on most of the time is that I like to be able to walk across campus or go shopping without someone being able to call me). And the fact that apparently Graham Bell thought that the appropriate greeting when you picked up the phone was "A-hoy-hoy" (which has been "immortalized" by how Monty Burns answers the phone on "The Simpsons.")

But, with a few boorish exceptions, the landline telephone and the television have been incorporated into our lives and it seems etiquette has kind of grown up around them. Perhaps the same will happen for cell phones and internet usage.

WTF?

Okay, I do not get this...

I headed down to our "mini vendeteria" (which is actually a pop machine and a snack machine). I wanted to buy some pretzels or chips or SOMETHING to supplement my lunch because, well, at 6:30 am when I normally pack it, I am NOT hungry, and very often at noon I open up the lunch kit and go, "Aw, man. Why didn't I pack more?"

(especially today - I teach until 5:20, have an off-campus meeting at 5:30, probably won't be home until 7:30 or later).

But anyway. The vendeteria. There was a girl there, standing right in front of the snack machine. Okay, I thought, I'll hang back, let her make her selection, and then do mine.

But she stayed there. Talking on her cell phone. Like she was guarding the dang machine (Seriously? If there was one Zinger left in there and she wanted it for her friend, she'd just have to tell me.)

But I'm not a bargey sort of person, so I wandered over to the water fountain ("....I'm just here to get a drink"), checked on the lab-setup in my lab, and then came back. Yup, still in front of the machine.

I suppose I would have been justified barging in but one of my little "issues" is that I don't like other people - especially women thinner than I - to see me getting snacks out of a vending machine. It feels so stereotypical: "Here's the fat chick totally dependent on the machine for her salt or sugar fix." (Yeah, I know. I have big problems about feeling that everyone's judging me.) But still. I'd like a little privacy to pick out my cheetoes or my Grandma Whoever's fakey-tasting faux-homestyle cookies.

Cell phones, I'm thinking more and more, are destroying simple manners in this country - it's as if everyone's enclosed in a bubble and no other people matter.

Hopefully she's left by now - so I can go get whatever salty thing (and whatever sweet thing) I want that the machine has.

bumpersticker wisdom

I know I wrote earlier about my dislike of bumper stickers in general, but once in a while, I see one that makes me think.

This was the bumper sticker: "Forget world peace, visualize using your turn signal!"

Okay, so maybe that's a little bit snarly given where I am going to take this, but I think that bumper sticker works well - both because it makes you laugh (and groan - I think we've all been in situations where a turn signal's use would have made a difference) but also, it works on a philosophical level.

"Visualizing" something like world peace (which I assume is different from praying for it?) is comparatively easy. And you have the pleasure of congratulating yourself on being a Goodthink Person because you're expressing a desire for something that I think any reasonable person (even reasonable people who recognize that world peace is extremely unlikely to occur, at least this side of the end of the world) has. But it's also easy.

And easy doesn't really solve problems.

It's nice to say you're pro-world peace, or pro-environment, or pro-every-child-being-fed-sufficient-food-to-grow-properly. But these are also desires that, if you were wanting to actually implement them, would be very difficult to impossible.

And another thing: one thing I've learned as an adult is that there is almost never a simple solution to a complex problem, and if there is an apparent simple solution, it will almost never work.

So, as nice as visualizing world peace is, it doesn't get much done, except perhaps stroke one's ego a bit. (I would, as a Christian, observe that "praying" for world peace - or, perhaps more along orthodox lines, for God's will to be done on earth (which, in my theology would amount to much the same thing, but it wouldn't be a sort of slippery peace where there's peace because some dictator is squishing everyone under his thumb; it would be peace because everyone's hearts and minds have been changed and put in line with God's desires) - is different. Prayer does have an impact, and much of that impact is on the individual who is doing the praying.)

But on the bumper sticker, there's the second part:

"visualize using your turn signal."

And although that does make me laugh (on my drive to work, and again on my drive to the grocery store, there are a couple of four-way stops and a couple of traffic lights, where if someone fails to use their turn signal you could either (in my case) miss a chance to move a bit early - because you know they have the right of way and you are expecting them to go straight or (in some other cases I've seen) get into an accident because you were expecting the person to go straight, you anticipated that, and you went into your turn and they went into their turn and you collided.

It also does make it hard to predict what someone is doing.

But, on a philosophical level (and why do I keep wanting to spell that philisophical? That's not right!), it also speaks to me.

Because: it's very nice to want the best for the world ("visualizing world peace"). But there are small things you CAN do - in fact, some might argue small things you NEED to do, if you care about such things as peace and harmony - that make the immediate, local world a nicer place.

And being courteous to other drivers - realizing that they can't read your mind, and so giving them a head's-up of your intentions - is one of those things.

I mean - I can, substantively, do NOTHING to improve the harmony or peace or goodness of the whole entire world. I can pray for the safety of our soldiers, I can pray for the hearts and minds of those who would do harm to be changed, but in terms of actual, tangible, on-the-ground things, there's nothing I can do.

But, I can treat the people around me with respect. I can be kind. I can follow the Golden Rule. To use the terminology from an old old song: people can know I am a Christian by my love (as long as I choose and remember to show it). I can't do a lot, globally speaking, but I can do that.

(But then again: if everyone on earth followed the Golden Rule, at least most of the time, I contend that this old world would be a better world than it is now.)

And I think what frustrates me a bit about some of the more politically-active types than I is that they don't always follow that. (I know: I'm infamous for expecting consistency in people's behavior. And people are nothing if not inconsistent). But I would think that someone who wanted peace on earth wouldn't, for example, talk about letting the air out of the tires of their political opponents. Or that they would make an effort to be respectful to everyone they worked with. Or their families. Stuff like that.

It's kind of like I opined on Ken's page (on one of his posts about the messed up whales): There are a lot of people I know who are far more willing to give money to an animal-related charity than they are to, say, The Salvation Army (or substitute your favorite non-religiously-oriented charity of choice). I've also heard more outpouring of sadness and rage when people hear of a dog being mistreated than, say, a case where a young woman is abducted and raped.

And while I'm not saying it's wrong to be outraged over people being cruel to animals - I think that's a good sign, a sign that the essential humanity in the person expressing outrage is strong, because they realize that some being that is comparatively defenseless and cannot speak is being harmed, I would also argue that that compassion should extend to humans - perhaps even more to animals.

(And no, I do not have a problem with hunting. Nearly every hunter I know is concerned with the 'clean kill' - that is, dropping the animal dead before it has a chance to realize it's been shot. I consider hunting basically a form of predation. And I don't expect cougars and wolves to become vegetarians just because it makes me sad to think of prey animals dying. And as an ecologist, I see what happens when rabbit or deer populations grow unchecked. I don't hunt myself - no interest in it at all - but I don't mind that other people do. And anyway, the famous consistency - I don't think I could realistically oppose ethical hunters unless I were completely vegan myself, and I'm not, and I'm not going to become so any time soon. I'm completely in favor of treating animals ethically (and I spend more on certain products I buy because the companies that make them are more committed to the ethical treatment of their livestock), but I don't have any moral compunctions about, say, drinking milk.)

That said - the argument that people who want good things in the world should treat other people well may be a good one. But, one thing I'm coming to learn is that the HARDEST of all the Commandments to keep is "Love your neighbor as yourself," especially in light of the fact that everyone, arguably, is our neighbor.

People are very good at behaving in ways that render them less-than-lovable. People are very good at annoying me. People around me, also, are very good at drawing me into sniping sessions or times when we sit around and complain about others around us.

And I have to admit, I don't really know where to strike the balance - I don't think we can INDISCRIMINATELY approve of everything everyone does. I want to retain the privilege of condemning behavior that I consider wrong. I don't consider that the same as not loving another person.

But it is hard. It is something I fight with every day - I get a phone call from a "difficult" person. Or a student who has done something that is wrong, and is facing consequences of that action, comes to me for help. I don't always know where to draw the line - whether to come down on the side of mercy or justice.

And sometimes, honestly, I get tired. The "kick the dog" phenomenon is still in action - someone dumps on you, you get feeling bad, and so you wind up dumping on someone else. And the cycle continues. Sometimes maybe you don't use your turn signal because "no one else is" and you're being spiteful.

And so, we all have to begin again. Every day is a struggle. And remembering, metaphorically speaking, to use our turn signals is a lot more challenging (and perhaps as not ego-gratifying) as visualizing world peace. But one thing that we maybe have to recognize is that the road to some kind of LOCAL peace (which, I would argue, again, is the only thing we're likely to get until the world is remade anew) is for each one of us to (metaphorically) work to remember to always use our turn signals when necessary.

please and thank you

Kate: "done beats perfect," as they say. I knew (and know) lots of people who don't get "perfect" grades but they learn just as much, if not more, than the people who do.

***

I'm reading a book right now called "Say Please, Say Thank You." (Donald McCullough). As you could guess, it's on civility and politeness (but NOT, as the author is quick to point out, etiquette: there is a difference, he says, between knowing precisely what fork to use at a fancy dinner and treating people with basic kindness and respect).

The book is one I find extremely quotable (so I'll subject you to some quotations from it, here). I agree with most of the author's basic points.

I also agree with his observation that none of us are perfect, that we all slip (even this morning, driving to work: that guy behind me who apparently couldn't be arsed to turn on his headlights even though it was dark out, and then roared past me - passing on the right, which is technically legal here but always spooks me badly - when I was stopped, waiting for traffic to clear before making a left turn. If I could have talked to the guy in that car, I would have said some choice words to him. Also about his choice of bumper stickers...I tend to think that insulting people's religions is neither funny nor cute)


McCullough relates a story, early in the book, about an experience where he "lost his civility" - in an airport shop, buying something from a woman who didn't get off the phone the whole time he was interacting with her. She shortchanged him and he kind of got in her face about it and about her being on the phone. The woman told him: That was my mother. She's disabled and can't get out much. She needs me and I can't be with her as much as I want to because I have to work (or words to that effect).

McCullough relates how he felt a total heel after that - how he had assumed that it was the frivolous sort of conversation, and that he had really been more unpleasant about the short-changing that he needed to be, and so on.

And he makes an interesting point:

The Golden Rule tells us to do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Because this is in the form of an imperative, we might have the wrong impression: we might imagine that we can choose to put this rule into effect or not, depending on whether we obey it. Actually, it's closer to the Tall Buildings Rule - step off the top of a tall building and you will be squished on the sidewalk. We're talking law here, a statement of what happens in the universe of relationships. Whatever you do unto others they will do back to you. Call it the Law of Reciprocal Action.

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McCullough goes on to explain how when that law gets broken, it can lead to a whole chain of events: treat someone with disrespect (and that's his fundamental argument: the whole "good manners" thing is treating people with respect, whether you think they deserve it or not) and they will likely turn around and treat someone else with disrespect...and on and on. It's like the old saying about the guy who has a bad day at work and then comes home and yells at his kids and kicks the dog.

But McCullough points out there's a reverse to this: when you treat someone BETTER than they deserve (he uses the example of Aldonza/Dulcinea from "Man of La Mancha" - Aldonza is little more than a prostitute, but Don Quixote insists on seeing her as "his Lady." At the very end of the play, just before Quixote dies, he sees her, transformed - because he believed her to be his Lady, he believed better of her.

And - though the book really isn't intended, I think, to have a religious tone, McCullough does suggest that we are, after all, children of God - and that the whole please/thank you/excuse me thing could, in fact, be acknowledging that. Giving people their dignity.

He has chapters on different topics: starting with "Please" and "Thank You" and moving on to things like respecting others by not being late (! I know people who are chronically late; the feeling one does get is that they think their time is more important than your own).

In the very first chapter, he makes a fine point:

The one who neglects to say "please" creadles within his or her soul an infant dictator who thinks it's all right to bark orders and who may just grow up to become a cruel despot...

That may be overstating things a bit, but...yes. There is something of the dictatorial in the person who doesn't preface requests with "please."

He also speaks of gratitude, and its importance: he points out something that I have noticed many times, that there is an inverse relationship between a sense of entitlement and a sense of gratitude. That stopping to be grateful is acknowledging that on some level, we have enough. It is sufficient. That the half-full glass could just as easily be empty, so let us rejoice in the fact that we have half a glass' worth.

And he remarks also that our culture works against this:

When we say 'thank you,' we heave a sigh of satisfaction in a world of grasping. Instead of reaching out toward more, we pause to enjoy what we have.
This is why gratitude has a hard time surviving. We live in a culture of consumption that constatntly tells us we need more. The New York Times estimated that the average American is exposed to 3500 commercial messages each day...they're all saying, "You don't have enough! Keep striving to aciewve more and acquire more!" A thankful spirit gets run over in the ensuing stampede...

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McCullough also discusses "white lies" and their obverse, what most of us in the blogosphere refer as TMI. He points out that white lies - and here he means "snow white" lies, not "black, or gray, or even off-white lies." These are the kind of little lies that are designed to protect the other person - not coming out and saying exactly what you feel (like, if someone asks you if their unattractive haircut is becoming to them). He also points out that part of politeness is sometimes NOT sharing information, and that this is hard in a "tell-all world."

(And yes, I am aware of the contradiction of writing this on a blog, which is basically a diary where I am slapping the pages up against the plate-glass window of the world for all to read as soon as I write them).

He points out that Aristotle had a good rule: honesty, he said, was telling the right truth to the right person at the right time in the right way for the right reason.

Or, more simply put (as my university's "wellness" magazine included in a "list of suggestions for surviving family reunions) - before you say something, ask yourself: is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?

In the last chapter ("Tell your buddy his fly is open"), which he suggests people skip to after reading the chapter on white lies, he continues with this thread:

Does this mean we should always blurt out the truth, no matter what? No, I don't think so. Let me suggest two guidelines. First, the truth must be pertinent to the situation. Lewis Smedes has beautifully summarized what this means: "A politician out to speak the truth about public matters as he sees them; he does not need to tell us how he feels about his wife. A doctor ought to tell me the truth, as he understands it, about my health; he does not need to tell me his views on universal health insurance. A minister ought to preach the truth, as he sees it, about the gospel; he does not need to tell the congregation what he feels about the choir director [and here, I add: this is the very crux of what bugs me so about the pontificating entertainers - I really do not need to know how much t.p. Sheryl Crow uses, even if she's joking about it] Telling the truth does not call us to be garrulous blabbermouths. Truthfulness is demanded from us about the things that we ought to speak about at all." It is neither ethical nor courteous to dump all our feelings at all times on all people.

In other words: avoid TMI.

One thing that McCullough never states explicitly, but that underlies so much of his writing is the concept of self-control. As I said earlier - thinking about the guy who scared me by passing me on the right (when I could hardly even see him) this morning - there are things I would have LIKED to have said to him. But the truth is, if I were really allowed to confront him? I'd probably not say any of them. I might express a desire that in the future he drove with his headlights on, I might tell him he scared me by passing so fast on the right and that it struck me as dangerously impatient. But I'd not curse at him, not call him an idiot - when I was actually confronted with him.

I think, perhaps, the anonymity of the modern age, of the internet, makes it easier to be rude. It is easier to forget one's self-control when the person who is the object of one's ridicule is not standing right there being spoken to face-to-face.

I will admit that one of the things I struggle with on a regular basis is this:

You have heard that it was said to those of old, “You shall not murder, and whoever murders will be in danger of the judgment.” But I say to you that whoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment. And whoever says to his brother, “Raca!” [a Syriac word indicating great contempt, meaning “empty head” or “one who acts as a numskull” see Barnes, 1972, p. 52; Lenski, 1943, p. 219—CC] shall be in danger of the council. But whoever says, “You fool!” shall be in danger of hell fire (Matthew 5:21-22). (from apologeticspress.com: article)

I do not have unlimited patience for what I perceive as foolish behavior. I do not like feeling I am being taken advantage of (for example, by people who come to me pleading disorganization or lack-of-experience or something, and therefore, they need to hand something in late). It is hard for me not to feel contempt for people that, I think, failed to use common sense. (It is probably my greatest failing in terms of personality). But I am reminded of the words I quoted above (and, I will say in my defense, I never say the thing to the person's face - I may criticize their behavior, but I will not call them a fool, except in my own head.)

I am not sure how to get past that, and it is something I struggle with.

However - the whole issue of courtesy. It is such a large topic and such a vital one. I am generally good with the basic "please and thank you" of everyday life. I am frankly often surprised at how few people say those things. It really does not cost a person anything, and it does, I think, make the other person feel better - in that you are seeing them as a PERSON, and not an obstacle in your path or as a servant.

It all comes down to the fundamental problem of seeing other people as PEOPLE - as fellow beings who love and fear and hope, as fellow beings who are as bound for the grave as we are, and who are deserving - and yes, I think, deserving, by mere fact of their existence - of a little basic kindness and respect.

I have real problems with people who label politeness as "repression" or who say it's unnatural. Well, yes, wearing clothes is unnatural, too, when you think about it. So is being vaccinated against diseases. So is having indoor plumbing. But those are all blessings of society (and regardless of what YOU may say, I argue that indoor plumbing is a blessing. And a vaccine that prevents me from getting polio or measles or tetanus. And so is clothing - even if it's just to cover the parts of me I'd rather the world not see).

It is not being "real" to be impolite to people. It is being impolite. "Realness," I'd argue, is a more difficult concept - it's closer to telling people the right truth at the right time (as per the Aristotle concept). It's saying the things the person needs to hear, but not necessarily including things they don't need to hear.

The problem I have with rudeness being seen as being "genuine" or "real" is...well, it's also part of the self-control idea. Yes, it may be closer to our animal natures to grab and wallow and push and force ourselves to the front. But we are not merely animals. We have intellects, or, if you like, souls. And I think that is the fundamentally human part of us - not tool-using, not walking upright. It is the fact that we can choose how we behave. We can choose to be animalistic and make the lives of others more miserable. Or we can choose to be on the side of the angels (as I would argue it) and strive to restrain our impulses to make people's lives miserable - and in fact, respond to those better impulses, those impulses to make people's lives a little nicer and a little better.

Random rudeness

I think it was Kate P., in my comments, who remarked on the Internet/non-face-to-face communication, and wondered what I thought about it maybe contributing to greater rudeness? (If it wasn't Kate, I apologize to whoever it was).

I DO think anonymity - as in an Internet situation - allows people who might not otherwise be rude (because of social constraints or fear of reprisal) to be rude. But I don't think that everyone will necessarily behave that way; I think perhaps it's more of a "natural tendencies" or "state-of-nature" thing coming out.

There are a lot of really pretty anonymous people I've communicated with via this blog and their own blogs - Ken S., Emily, the nightfly (whose real name I do not even know), Dave, Kate, Lisa, Shannon (both Shannons) and others...and they've all been quite polite. Nice even. Even when I say really rather stupid stuff. I don't think the model that some people push, the "Teh Internets makes U roood!" model, works. I tend to think that it's what's more at the base of a person that comes out.

J. C. Watts famously said that character is what comes out when no one is watching (or words to that effect). I tend to believe that. I try to practice it in my everyday life - to behave as if someone were watching me, as if someone could tell my character from how I acted even in private.

So, I try to be civil. I think I said in a comment on Sheila's blog, that if a blog irritates me, I ignore it. Usually, if I disagree with a post or a comment, I don't say anything, unless I have a good and reasonable argument to the opposite: I am not given to the "You are teh SUCK!" kind of comment in response to things I disagree with. Because I tend to feel like there's not much point to that - you're not convincing anyone, and what you're saying really has little to do with the opinion expressed.

But I do think for some people, anonymity facilitates rudeness.

What would you do if you knew you would not get caught? goes a question (whether it's from a Barbara Walters interview or a test-to-screen-psychopaths-out-of-the-hiring process, I don't remember.) And for some people, that's being rude to the fellow man.

I also think - and this is a trap a lot of people fall into, even people who might be mortified at being rude in general - is that the people you communicate with on the Internet don't seem "real." Even when they have pictures of themselves up on their website, even if you know their real name. And in our video-game soaked world, there may be just some people who are used to shooting down "not real" enemies on a screen...and so, anything that happens on a screen develops an air of unreality, and it's easy to flame someone for something they've said - because you're not flaming a real person.

(I remember a "cautionary tale" - perhaps I'd even call it a "modern parable," in that it's a story that may not literally have happened, but that it carries an important truth. A young man had just got his driver's license. He was allowed to borrow the family car one Saturday. And so, he took the car out. But he wound up stuck behind an old man who was driving very slowly and had left his turn signal clicking. The young man followed, getting increasingly annoyed, until there was a point where he could pass. As he passed, he "shot the bird" at the driver of the other car. To his horror, the face he saw as he passed, finger in the air, was that of the minister of the church he belonged to.

In other words: You may not realize who you are flipping off until it is too late.)

I would add that this increasing anonymity of modern life - and I DO think anonymity is increasing - encourages people to do certain things, like litter, that they might not otherwise have done. But that's another topic for another time, my own personal version of The Tragedy of the Commons.

I also think the anonymity of the Internet makes it easy to ignore the fact that others have feelings. And that feelings can be hurt. Perhaps I'm overly conscious of it, and overly careful (because I do have pretty sensitive feelings and I know very specifically what hurts me). But I also remember the old Platonic dictum to "be kind, for you do not know what burdens others are carrying." You can't always do that perfectly to a t (there are some people who, for example, are infertile and who don't mind the topic being discussed; there are others for whom the mere mention that "X is having a baby, did you hear?" can send them into a total spiral. I try to be sensitive to stuff like that but I don't always know or always remember).

And I think it's particularly unpleasant for someone to KNOW the exact button that will set someone off, and then for that person to keep pushing that button. I know some people who seem to take a certain joy in going for the one tiny weak spot in a person's emotional armor, again and again, and it's a fairly ugly thing to witness.

I also tend to think there are simply some people who don't see being unpleasant as unpleasantness. Those are the people who roll their eyes and say things like "oh, grow up" or "don't be such a wuss" when they've said something rude and someone got offended. That's simply a personality thing. To be honest, I don't like dealing with people like that in my everyday life and I try to avoid them in my online life. I've become pretty good at sussing out who is that way from what they say and how they respond to people (the old Usenet rule: read a newsgroup for a month or so to learn its tenor before you post, also works with blogs). I guess it's pure self-preservation (deep down I am a rather sensitive person. And when my feelings get hurt I kind of curl back into myself like a sea anemone that's been prodded, instead of lashing out at the other person. I know that I tend to BELIEVE the rude and unkind things people say about me. So I try to avoid places where those things will be said to me in the first place). I guess I've been pretty lucky in that I've really not dealt with that much rudeness in the blogosphere.

I will also add that I think some people like hiding behind an anonymous mask, that they don't really think of themselves as "representatives" of their faith or their profession or their ethnicity or their political beliefs, or whatever. But I will say I do see myself as a representative of whatever I am. I cringe when I see other college professors behaving in asinine ways. I get a little sick to my stomach when someone who calls themself a Christian says something that I'm reasonably sure Jesus would call him out (just as He called out the Pharisees) for. So I try not to be "that person." I try to be gracious. I try to be kind. I don't always succeed, because I am just a weak foolish human, but I do try.

I will say if I could change one thing about the human race is that I would increase our respect of each other. Not so much "enforced respect" of groups (in other words, political correctness), but the old-fashioned, "I'm not going to be mean because that's mean" kind of respect - where you treat people as individuals, where you (if it is in your realm of belief) you try to look at each person and see them as a child of God, where you are kind to them because they are a fellow human - with loves and fears and hopes and desires and they are as bound for the grave as you are.