My grandmother had opinions about things: proper posture, bangs that hung in young girls’ faces, and manners. She was right on most counts. My grandparents and parents held manners in high regard. We were taught to answer “Yes, please” instead of “Yeah,” and “No, thank you” instead of “Nah.” And we knew to address adults by Mr. and Mrs. My father had a law partner named Charles Schoeneck. “Mr. Schoeneck” was harder to pronounce than just Charles or Chuck, but that was my problem, not his.
Similarly, my time in the Marine Corps reinforced the importance of addressing people appropriately. I wouldn’t dare call a senior officer by his first name, or, God forbid, by the wrong rank. It wasn’t done.
When I started teaching, the titles were different, but the expectation of respect was the same. In public school, I was Mrs. Wood. Later, when I began teaching in a Montessori school, getting used to students calling me by my first name was hard. But that was the expectation set by our head of school, who wished to be called Susan. Who was I to argue?
Social mores change over time. In the 1940s women were told to smile when they answered the phone and always pass the salt and pepper together as a pair. In the 1950s, it was polite for a gentleman to carry a pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket, even if he didn’t smoke, and always have a toast ready. These rules may have made sense for the generation in charge at the time, but they don’t serve us now.
My mother knew that manners are more than one generation’s rules. Good manners are tools we use to make people feel more comfortable. So while my mother had been taught by her mother that the salad fork goes outside the main course fork, she would never use her knowledge to embarrass anyone who hadn’t been raised on Emily Post’s column, Ms. Manners.
In turn, our children have different social norms than our parents did. Perhaps it is time for us Boomers to turn the etiquette reigns over to the next generation. Our children are as miffed at our insistence to sign our texts as we were confused by our father’s insistence to offer a lady his left arm.
The bottom line is, we don’t have to agree with, or understand, someone’s habits or preferences to make them feel more comfortable, even when a polite gesture takes a bit of effort. As a vegetarian, I can attest to how welcome I feel if a friend takes my diet into consideration when she hosts a dinner party. Similarly, if my daughter’s childhood friend has recently taken on a new name, then it is polite to remember to call them by it. If that is confusing to me, then that’s my problem, not theirs. I think my grandmother would agree.
Hi Tracy enjoyed this. I had to learn not to sign my texts. Ha ha Julia