Mind Over Manners
Early one bustling Tuesday morning in spring on the uber-crowded Metro subway system in Washington, DC, I was forced to come to grips with the fact that though chivalry may not be completely dead, it is probably being bound, gagged and tortured in some dark, unhappy, Camp Crystal Lake-like hamlet and may, in fact, be DOA before we have a chance to resuscitate it.
Picture it: the cast of characters—me (in heels), an attractive brother old enough to know better and a freakish commingling of suit-and-tie stuff shirts carrying around briefcases and bad attitudes; too-loud teenagers en route to a generally unproductive day at school; and camera-toting, perplexed-looking, could-you-tell-me-how-to-get-to-the-White-House asking tourists.
The unfolding plot: In a train car full of chaos, a lone seat opens up to offer comfort, stability and sweet foot relief to one lucky passenger.
In reality, the situation played out every bit as dramatically as my atypical writer’s build-up suggests. Across that congested closet on wheels, he, the beautifully chocolatey Black man with locs, and I, the stubby, less-than-graceful sista girl, simultaneously spotted the opportunity to sit. I was a little closer, but four-inch stilettos ain’t the kind of shoes that allow most of us to pivot, turn and bust into an effortless sprint (unless you are, in fact, Beyonce Knowles), so although space and distance were on my side, we lumbered over to the object of our intention at the same exact time.
There was a brief pause, ostensibly so that the home-training his mama and other female relatives undoubtedly worked to instill in him could bubble itself up to the surface of his consciousness. He grappled for a moment, avoiding my eyes, which surely by now were pimp smacking him into submission, then proceeded to bend his long, lanky, designer-suit-wearing legs and park his narrow rear in the open seat. The punctuation mark on his blatant move of un-manliness? He crossed his leg. I had officially been served.
What just happened here? I struggled to not only to keep my balance against the swaying jerkiness of the train (and thwart the offers from the three-toothed fella two rows over who told me I could take a seat on his lap), but comprehend where the kindness and gentility of our men had gone. Maybe if I hadn’t grown up with a grandfather who took his hat off when he entered buildings and held doors open for as many ladies as there were to parade through them, I wouldn’t have come to expect respect and courtesy from Black men.
So here, fellow Clutch-ettes, is where a very unwarm and unfuzzy theory began to formulate in my overactive little mind:
With the breakdown of this generation’s sense of tradition and uprightness, can I really expect a man to hold a door for me when his culture and his music have ingrained in him that I’m only good enough to hold his… well, you get where I’m going here.
Just like Sophia loved Harpo, I am in love with hip-hop. Like theirs, it’s a tumultuous and sometimes dysfunctional relationship but that passion, that desire, that mutual understanding is still there. That being said, I recognize that it’s been used to loop a continuous message of outright, flagrant disrespect, let alone a general aloofness when it comes to being an honorable gentleman. The finger has already been flexed and pointed at misogynistic lyrics for relegating women to nothing more than trickin’, jigglin’ body parts. But I also have to lay blame at the feet of the macho hip-hop mindset for the rapid breakdown in basic, common manners. Between that dynamic and the failure of parents—many of whom are barely out of the same generation as their kids—someone has done a pretty poopity job teaching their son – the dudes who make up our shallow-behind dating pool – what to do and coaching their daughters on what to demand.
To top it all off, I find that sistas are either scared to insist on the kind of old school manners from their husbands, boyfriends and jump-offs that separated average men from gentlemen, or they themselves don’t know that we’re supposed to have passenger doors opened and closed for us. We’re supposed to get our seats pulled out and be helped into our coats. We’re supposed to ceremoniously have doors held so that we can sashay through them first. And in the name of all that’s good and decent and right-side-up, we’re supposed to have first dibs on an empty seat on a jam-packed subway.
This much I do know—if the good Lord blesses me with the opportunity to have a son, that little dude is going to be the friggin’ Billy Dee Williams of his generation because his mama is going to make ever so certain that he knows ‘gentleman’ is more than a compound noun (of course, he’ll know that too, since Mom is also a grammar geek). It’s not even about his becoming the object of desire for every girl who thirsts for a charming guy. His dad may slap him a high five off the benefit of that. I just want this yet-unborn manners prodigy to understand that chivalry is the kind of behavior traditionally expected from warriors, knights—and Black kings.
I don’t like for people to not have manners, but what I do mind is when those manners are only extended to me because the man is attracted to me or simply because I am a woman. If one is truly a courteous person, gender won’t matter.
Sorry for the multiple replies. Anyway.
“Can I really expect a man to hold a door for me when his culture and his music have ingrained in him that I’m only good enough to hold his…”
I’ve had men jump in front of me/cut me off to hold a door simply because they liked the way I looked.
I once had a man offer me a seat outside of the subway station when I never made any indication I wanted/needed to sit down.
When it comes to Black men, some of them have manners, but only for the women/girls who they are attracted to.
“When it comes to Black men, some of them have manners, but only for the women/girls who they are attracted to.”
Cross out “black” and then you’ll have a statement that I agree with 100% completely.
I a way I understand what the author is saying except the part about Hip-Hop, too much blame is assigned to rap music for the choices made from the influences of the community you are from. As for men not being chivalrous, I think the more men start seeing women as equal the less preferential treatment they will give to women. This is a good thing, chivalry goes hand in hand with patriarchy.
This was not supposed to post here.
This is true! Beautiful women have NEVER met a man without manners.
“When it comes to Black men, some of them have manners, but only for the women/girls who they are attracted to.” YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS #truth. The rest of you, forget about it!
co-signing Elle.
While I think some of what the author talked about is true, I think this extends beyond hip hop. This is not something that is relegated to just the black community. I went to PWI for middle school – college and this behavior became more common for all women, black and white, the older we got. When we inquired why, most had the same answer, “I don’t know if I’m supposed to or not. Some women complain “I don’t need a man to open a door for me”". Most of these guys said that while they are more than happy to do it, they don’t want to deal the the potential militant feminist who makes holding a door for a woman a huge social issue.
I find it is also regional. In the south, even in I’m in jeans and I shirt, men hold the door open almost 100% and I smile and say thank you of course. In New England, when I am wearing jeans and a shirt men will hold the door open maybe 50% of the time but when I am in a skirt or dress or heels it happens almost 100% of the time. In Ohio and the Midwest…seriously I could be the imperial jewels of Russia and men would only hold the door open maybe 20%.
“Can I really expect a man to hold a door for me”
I no longer expect men to do the right thing but I always hope they will prove me wrong. When I am wrong I always make it a point to say thank you or show my appreciation of their efforts with a smile because in todays society it’s really un-expected. I live in NYC where the majority of subway stations do not have elevators or escalators. So after breaking my foot and ending up in one of those hydraulic space boots I would have to limp my way up at least two flights of stairs to the train platform only to be left standing in front of men who pretended to be sleep or acted as if they were so preoccupied with their Angry Birds game that they didn’t see me and my giant boot and walking cane (which I often tapped on the floor to quietly get their attention as if to say “HEY SEE THIS WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE OFFER ME A SEAT!”). I figure if a man wont offer his seat to a pregnant woman whose belly is poking him in the face or an elderly person struggling to hold steady while the train moved, then me and my broken foot didn’t stand a chance. I have actually had pregnant women stand up and offer me a seat when they saw my condition. It’s disgusting.
Let me tell you….I have wished so many people to h#ll it’s not even funny.
“We’re supposed to get our seats pulled out and be helped into our coats. We’re supposed to ceremoniously have doors held so that we can sashay through them first. And in the name of all that’s good and decent and right-side-up, we’re supposed to have first dibs on an empty seat on a jam-packed subway.”
No offence but what law in the U.S. or World that I as a Man have to do things. Chivalry like all actions in life is a conscience choice that everyman decide if they want that as part of there character. Theres no one way of being a man, no Book or Bylaws giving to each boy come into the world saying “HERE IS THE BOOK OF HOW TO BE A MAN”.
What I will and wouldn’t are my choices, if some of us men open the door for you, give our away seat, etc. and we arnt together cool, Most of us are not looking for a medal or parade or anything we did that because we wanted to
not because chivalry is dead or whatever.