A Little Respect

Mothers tend to set the civility standard in the home, teaching children about table manners, acceptable social skills and the need to respect their elders. We navigate the sassy years, the rebellious years and the defiant years, believing that with any luck, the values we’ve instilled in our offspring will take root and bear fruit. We hope to raise children who engage in heated discussions without becoming boorish, who listen attentively to teachers, professors and eventually bosses, even if they disagree with them. Children (and later adults), who respect those in positions of authority.

Truth be told, any of us would be mortified if one of our children shouted out the words “You lie!” to a teacher during a classroom discussion. And yet we find ourselves at a chapter in our country’s history where this kind of outburst is considered defensible by some, under the umbrella of free speech.

This is not a political commentary so don’t start drafting rebuttals to what you think I’m about to say. I’m simply wondering how, as adults, we have managed to set such low standards in terms of what is and is not acceptable behavior, standards we are modeling for our children, our youth, and the rest of the world. The South Carolina congressman’s blatant display of disrespect for our nation’s highest office, in my opinion, is representative of the gradual yet steady erosion of etiquette standards we formerly held dear, things we used to teach our kindergartners: Don’t interrupt when someone is speaking. Show consideration for others. Be courteous. To me, respecting others even in the face of huge ideological differences is essential if we are ever going to move forward as a nation, as families, or as individuals. To refuse is to behave like the red-faced toddler who jams his fingers in his ears and shouts “La! La! La! I can’t hear you!” because he doesn’t like what you are about to say.

In one of my recent blogs, I shared my own failings when it comes to losing my temper. I too have been given to angry tirades, ususally directed at my children, and have been publicly contrite about my admittedly bad behavior. When I looked at the replay of Joe Wilson flying into a rage and heckling the president of the United States on national T.V., I felt embarrassed. Later I was saddened and angered when I heard various talk radio personalities practically high-fiving each other as they discussed the outburst. One particular pundit was ecstatic that someone finally had the guts to “speak their mind.”

The following day I sat down and talked to my children about what happened. My son, who just started middle school, is hyper-aware of disciplinary consequences for breaking rules, and immediately wanted to know if the man who insulted the president would be punished. “Can the president fire him? Will he go to jail?” he asked. I told him I thought the main consequence for Mr. Wilson was a high degree of shame and embarrassment. Like the kind I felt the last time I yelled at my kids in public.

So I guess my question is: When did we all become so angry that we have lost all measure of self control? And again, I don’t mean just politically – I think what’s happening in that arena is symbolic of a greater national virus more insidious than any flu pandemic. We rage at store clerks who service us too slowly; hold wait staff in contempt if our order is served up wrong; think murderous thoughts towards drivers who dare to merge in front of us; and scream at teachers and coaches who constructively criticize our kids. We judge and demean those with different religious beliefs and sexual orientations than our own, and are puzzled when they don’t see things our way. Are they blind? Deceived? Stupid? Or is it possible that as we point our fingers in judgment, we really do, as the Scripture suggests, judge ourselves accordingly.

As a suburban working mom, I’m not likely to solve the world’s ills any time soon. But I do want to give a call out to my fellow members of the “motherhood sisterhood” to remind us all that we remain among the most influential members of a society for whom manners and social decorum have become optional. Our voices ring loud and true because they have the ability to shape the next generation’s views and behaviors. So let’s take a stand. Let’s decide not to raise kids who use shout-each-other-down tactics to make a point, who slander those with differing beliefs or lifestyle choices, or who demonstrate disdain for authority figures.

We begin by modeling good behavior. By treating our children and those around us with respect. By practicing the very things we preach.