The Magic of Manners
As my children were growing up, manners were mandatory in our house - all day, every day. I give you a juice box? You say “thank you.” I offer you extra TV time? You say, “Yes, please.” That was the way we rolled since day one. Many people thought we were over the top with this particular requirement. Most notably, my parents. They felt we were too heavy on the discipline with our kids, and were not afraid to point that out.
Back then, when my children were little and were given something from someone, “What do you say?” was my directive, on a loop.
“Geez, Kriste, leave them alone,” my Mom would say, “it’s just a lollipop.” And she’d dismiss my kid from having to say “please.” At first, I fought her on it, trying to impose the ‘I’m the mother and I’ll make the rules’ argument, but after a while, I gave up. For my Mom, they could go easy on the pleases and thank-yous. For everyone else? It was a must.
My husband and I often saw the benefit of our imposing manners. Multiple times we’d receive positive feedback from teachers, coaches and parents admiring the politeness of our kids. We beamed with pride, secure in the knowledge that “WE DID THAT!”
Today, I work part-time in a middle school. I am assigned intervention groups and teach them reading strategies in the school library. My experience working in this environment warrants an entirely separate blog post, but suffice it to say for this subject, that a significant number of 7th and 8th graders in my school do not use manners. Some do, but it’s a lost art for many.
At the end of the week I bring treats in for the group to reward their hard work. I grab candy or fruit snacks or Goldfish crackers at the store and then divvy them out to each of the students. Lately I’m noticing the lack of acknowledgement or thank-yous from the kids after they receive their snack. Two Fridays ago, I counted five out of sixteen. Last Friday? Three. I’ll wait for a minute, then say “You’re welcome for the candy.” It’s only then that they realize they never said thanks. This makes me sad. I realize, however, that I can’t really hold these young students responsible. Manners start in the household. The parents should be teaching these kids to be grateful for what they are given. So many children in the world have nothing.
My other part time gig is as a banquet bartender for a catering company in Boston. I love this job. Even as an introvert, I enjoy working with different staff members in various venues and chatting with customers from all kinds of backgrounds. I like the banter. Most customers are happy to be at an event, enjoying the music, the buffet or plated dinner, dressing up and sipping on Processo or free chardonnay. Smiles and gratitude fills the air, pleasantries being shared, laughter bouncing off the walls. But sometimes, I am struck with one or two patrons with an extreme lack of manners.
One scenario:
(Random dude walks up to the bar.)
“Gin and tonic,” he says, his arm leaning on the bar, his eyes elsewhere (because why address or look at the help?)
I am immediately put off, my mood shifts and I stiffen.
“Hi sir. I hope you’re having a great night. You said gin and tonic?” I’ll ask loudly, sarcastically. This is usually followed by a “yup,” or a simple nodding of the head. I make the drink and put it in front of the customer. I don’t tell him it’s there, because he’s not looking at me. After a bit he turns around, grabs the drink and heads off into the crowd. I pretend he says “thank you” and call after him, “You’re welcome!” And every now and then he’ll turn around with a half smile or, shocker, a “thank you!”
Is this petty? Absolutely. Am I proud of my shenanigans? No, but I value manners.
The magic of good manners? If you use them, you are usually rewarded with an extra snack during group or a delicious, well-made cocktail! 😉
