THE COMMUNITY
A good neighbor is rich, taciturn and childless; desires neither pets nor guests; and is fanatic about keeping the property neat and clean but horrified at the idea of making any creative changes in it. This is not Miss Manners’ definition. Personally, she prefers to be surrounded by people who are alive. It seems to be the ideal of neighborhood associations and boards of cooperative buildings. When their members convene to evaluate would-be neighbors or chastise the ones with whom they are already stuck, this is the standard by which they measure. It’s not what they get, of course. Hermits tend not to play around with real estate.
Even if buildings and neighborhoods could be filled with such types, Miss Manners is not convinced that they would improve the neighborhood. She understands that the old-style model neighbor—friendly, helpful and hospitable—is capable of driving everybody on the block or floor crazy, and therefore maintaining some distance is desirable. You don’t want to have to keep explaining your life to people who are well situated for conducting surveillance. Even neighbors who become friends are supposed to pretend they don’t see one another giving parties to which they are not invited or taking in the paper in their nightclothes.
A chatty neighbor can waste your time and destroy your patience; a nosy one has an unfair advantage in keeping track of who is coming and going. Children are sure to wail, play pranks, toss balls into windows or drive tricycles into hallway walls—and that’s only until they are old enough to develop a taste for what they euphemistically call music. The neighbors’guests have the notion that they’ve also been invited to park their cars.
However, you probably do want your neighbors to notice who is coming into your house by unscrewing the iron grille on a window. You probably want to be trusted with the neighbors’ keys so you can get in when they are away and the wind sets off their alarm. The children who cut across your lawn or push all the elevator buttons may be useful when you’re both older and you need them to shovel your walk or pick you up off of it when you break your hip. The neighbors who keep asking you to take in packages because you work at home can be asked in return to pick up things for you on their way home.
Anyway, Miss Manners is afraid that much of the annoyance of living near living people has to be tolerated for the sake of harmony, heavily backed by the fear of retaliation. At the very least, problems have to be handled with tremendous tact. They all know where you live. It is a mistake to make a fuss about guests’ parking, only to have the painters show up for work at your house the next day with very long trucks. Or to keep carping about children until you suddenly find you are expecting children or visits from grandchildren. Or to establish the principle of zero tolerance for minor infractions if you’re planning to lead a normal life.
Miss Manners keeps hearing about recalcitrant neighbors who are impervious to the comforts and complaints of others. She has no doubt that some such exist, and that it may take the power of landlords, building superintendents, neighborhood associations, police officers, zoning boards and the court system to make them behave. It is also possible that some of them are being trained to be hostile. How else does one expect people to reply to angry threats invoking rights and insults about invasions of space? That they’re terribly sorry, didn’t realize they were causing a disturbance and will never do it again?
Miss Manners recommends using old-style neighborliness—an aura of good will, mixed with regret at having to call a problem to the attention of someone also presumed to be of good will—before resorting to lawsuits. It is quicker and cheaper. It is also easier than finding neighbors who are never visually, aurally or personally intrusive.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Due to a relationship break-up and my financial circumstances, I was forced to move back home with my mother at the age of 45. She lives in a senior citizen condominium complex. Obviously, I feel out of place living amongst the elderly residents. I try to tell myself that I should just go about my business, and a simple “Good morning” or “Hello” is enough if I happen to pass someone. I feel that neighbors are of no real significance in one’s life, chances being that we would never see them again if they move away
Am I wrong? These neighbors don’t feel the same way. They all know each other and much about everyone’s lives. One of them even had the nerve to ask me how much I paid for my earrings, and if they were gold. I was so taken aback, I was lost for a good answer. How can one live in a place like this and still have privacy from these meddlesome, rude and invasive neighbors? How can one make these types understand that I don’t want to be bothered with or by them, without appearing rude or aloof? What makes them so nosy and curious about each other’s lives, anyway?
GENTLE READER – What makes people curious about each other’s lives is our common humanity. What makes people express this humanity by asking nosy questions is rudeness.
Miss Manners is troubled by your equating such rudeness with any sort of neighborliness. She can tell you how to fend off nosy questions, and she can even tell you how to fend off all sociability, but she would consider the latter to be a mistake.
To have friendly neighbors is a tremendous boon. Neighbors can do one another all sorts of favors that even intimate friends and relations cannot do if they live at a distance. It can also be lovely to make friends that one will then have close at hand. Miss Manners urges you not only to stop being a snob about age, but to remember that elderly people often have descendants, and all of those are younger than they are. You might want to meet them.
To discourage nosy questions, one should have a firm policy of not answering them. A polite way to do it is to fail to understand the question. For example, the answer to “How much did you pay for your earrings? Are they real gold?” is “Oh, I’m so glad you like them.”
To discourage all conversation, you must cultivate an air of preoccupied bewilderment, when anybody addresses you, and keep apologizing that you have to run off. Just don’t come complaining to Miss Manners when you hear that one of these people you snubbed is being visited by the very person you have always wanted to meet.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – When we moved into this neighborhood six months ago and the couple next door invited us for dinner, we were pleased to accept their invitation. The evening was not an unpleasant one. We stayed until nearly midnight, and the conversation ranged over a number of subject areas: either about the other couple and their doings, or a few topics of mutual interest.
But during the entire time we were in their home, neither my wife nor I was asked a single question about ourselves: not what we do for a living, how we’ve come to be in this city, our educational backgrounds, our children, etc. There were several openings during the course of the dinner for them to “pick up” on topics of this sort, but it simply did not happen.
We are not angry so much as puzzled, Miss Manners. These folks are apparently in their own world and happy to be there. But do we owe them a reciprocal invitation? The idea makes us uncomfortable if such an evening were to be a repeat of the one described; we’d feel even more sensitive about subjecting a third (innocent!) couple to punishment of this sort. On the other hand, they are neighbors and we expect to live here for a while. Is there a gracious alternative that we don’t see here?
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners could weep. She has spent so much energy in trying to persuade people not to ask prying questions, and here you are, having stayed up to midnight discussing topics of mutual interest with new people, complaining that they are self-centered for not having quizzed you about your personal life.
It is possible that the last couple whose occupations and schools they asked got huffy because they felt they were being investigated to see if they were important. The one before that burst into tears upon being asked about their children because they have been unable to have any.
This was a first time get-together, after all. Polite people make general conversation before investigating one another’s histories. Yet these people made a step toward closer acquaintanceship by volunteering information about themselves; surely, you could have done that, as well. At least promise Miss Manners you will try. If they reply “Who cares?” and go on talking about themselves, she will concede that you were right and can confine your neighborliness to an occasional over the fence greeting.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Our kitchen window is directly across from the kitchen window of a neighbor’s house, which is only a few feet away. When I am doing dishes, I can see into their kitchen, and occasionally I will catch my neighbor’s eye. At first, we exchanged a wave or a smile. I guess the novelty has worn off, because lately the neighbor seems to pretend that I am not there. We hardly ever see them outside, but when we do, we exchange only hellos; they do not seem interested in conversation.
When I was a child, we knew almost everyone on the block. Do most people just want to be left to themselves these days? The current state of affairs has left me feeling uncomfortable and lonely.
GENTLE READER – Neighborliness is a wonderful thing, and Miss Manners would be delighted to help you revive it. First, she has to explain that ignoring its limits is as much to blame for destroying it as is any modern self-centered aloofness.
The poor lady next door does not want to feel that you are forever in her kitchen, keeping a friendly eye on her as she attempts to live her own life in her own house. Perhaps that is why she is limiting herself to polite greetings. If you are frankly peeking in now, she may well be wondering what you might do if she encouraged you. Call out that what she’s cooking needs more salt? Or that she shouldn’t be licking the pot?
Urban life requires a balance of sociability with privacy. For this reason, certain conventions are necessary, enabling people to ignore one another at times without being rude. These can include not only hurrying by with a quick greeting, rather than treating each encounter as a visit, but sometimes actually pretending you do not see someone when you obviously do. Modern folk are not good at this sort of subtlety, but without it, genuine feelings of neighborliness would be stretched beyond reasonable endurance. The mere accident of your being able to see in someone’s window does not entitle you to free entrance through it.
By all means, continue to greet your neighbors on the street, but learn to pretend that you do not, in fact, see inside their houses. Miss Manners does not want to discourage your being sociable with your neighbors, but no friendship can flourish when one of the parties feels cornered, especially on her very own turf.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – About 18 months ago, I moved from the city to a small community in the north woods, where I have been thoroughly enjoying the solitude, climate and beauty. Everything is going well, except that I am a bit vexed about how to adapt to a peculiar local custom. Folks here love to drop in for a visit without giving any notice. It’s not that I’m phoneless—when I did have one, they never called to announce their imminent arrivals. This might not pose a problem if only I had the option of simply refusing to answer the door. But up in this territory, people knock briskly and enter, then begin to snoop about like hounds on a fresh trail.
There is a certain amount of community pride invested in maintaining a liberal standard of trust and openness. To lock my door, if I had a lock, would be tantamount to declaring that not only do I not trust my country neighbors, but also that I have something to hide. Should I dash upstairs and cower under the bed-sheets till they leave? The custom seems to allow visitors free run of the ground floor, but I think there is sort of an unwritten taboo preventing them from going up steps in their investigations. Why should I have to take flight, or make myself presentable at the drop of a latch?
I suppose I could fake a burglary on my own home and then use it as an excuse to secure the premises. However, this would send shock waves of fear and suspicion through this innocent little burg. This is, after all, a benign nuisance. I’m grateful to be living in a crime-free zone. These are good, honest, friendly, well meaning people (with robust curiosity!). I don’t want to hurt their feelings. I’ve found it helpful to view this as a sort of anthropological project. It’s as if I’m living in a remote tribal village, enjoying friendship with the natives, while attempting to garner respect for my own folkways, too. Is it that I’m attempting to have it both ways?
GENTLE READER – Sure, but why shouldn’t you? Miss Manners hardly thinks it too much to want to live in peace and privacy and yet to get on with one’s neighbors.
She advises you to get the word out that you are busy working (or napping) most of the time, but would love to receive anyone who wants to visit, say from four to six on most weekends. Then lock up. Should anyone complain, you can apologize with the statement that this was not done because of that person or any other neighbor, because they all know that you don’t do visiting during the day. It was done in case strangers who don’t know your ways happened by. This not only reinforces your bond to the community, but establishes you as the town eccentric, which is not a bad thing to be.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – You told us it was all right not to get fully dressed to go out on the front porch to get the morning paper. Is there a further dispensation for subscribers to papers whose carriers do not consider the front porch within their jurisdiction? May we go out to the sidewalk in nightclothes to get the paper?
GENTLE READER – Surely you meant to address this letter to the circulation department. Two questions of decency are involved here—doing a job properly and ensuring that the populace not stray too far in its nightclothes—and the former, at least, comes within that department’s jurisdiction. If that were solved, the latter problem would not exist. However, it does, doesn’t it? Miss Manners can’t get out of it that easily.
Her answer depends on your definition of nightclothes, and on the cooperation of your neighbors. Revealing clothing may not be worn beyond the threshold. Opaque robes may be, provided that your neighbors understand that in case you do not appear to advantage at that hour, they have not officially observed you in the act of fetching the paper.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I love to walk for exercise, and many times would run into a neighbor also out for her walk. About a year and a half ago, we started walking together. At first, it was nice to have a partner, so you’d tend not to skip, but I’m finding myself hating to walk now, because I’m tied in to walking with her.
She doesn’t work outside the home and I do, so I’m having to call every time, to see if my free time will work for her (which it always does). We don’t have much in common, and I find her problems minor compared to the serious ones I’m dealing with. With all the stress in my life, this scheduled walking time with her has added to my stress level, instead of helping. I want to go back to walking alone. I meditate and pray when I walk alone, and it’s a great stress reducer. I know if I tell her, she will be hurt and I will feel guilty every time I step out the door. I need to be freed of this!
GENTLE READER – Tied to her? At a time when people consider marriage vows to be temporary commitment, valid only when mutually satisfactory, Miss Manners is amazed that you consider an agreement to go walking as a permanent bond precluding not just other partners but solitude.
While the neighbor may enjoy walking with you, Miss Manners doubts that knowing that you take other walks will be a major blow to her. She may even be glad to have the same freedom herself. Just go ahead and take your solos, right out there in the open, waving at your neighbor cheerfully if you should happen to pass. Every once in a while, you could also propose a joint walk, to show that your new habit is not a criticism of the old one.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – As soon as the For Sale sign goes up on the front lawn, one can almost feel the buzz of speculation take hold of the neighbors. They seem to feel that they have a vested interest in your property, i.e., if you do well, so will they. If your property does not sell, self-congratulatory back pats all around—“Weren’t we smart not to list right now?”
One begins to feel awkward about stepping out the front door, as it is impossible to avoid being grilled on “how the open-house went,” or “Haven’t you sold yet?” If we had, the sign on the lawn would indicate that. Well-meaning concern feels like gloating in disguise. And the details of your transaction seem not to be private, either. Without my disclosing any information, they have nevertheless become privy to where we are going, how much we paid, etc. If details are not forthcoming from the adults, children are there to satisfy the need to know. Am I wrong in assuming that the rule of etiquette about not asking others about their financial affairs should also apply to selling the home?
GENTLE READER – Just a minute, here. Miss Manners is a national leader in the battle against nosiness, but the fact is that the neighbors do have a vested interest in neighborhood real estate prices. What is more, the sale price will eventually be a matter of public record, which any of them considering selling a house will undoubtedly consult.
It is true that “Haven’t you sold yet?” is a dumb question, and that grilling children is dreadful. A little chitchat about a deeply mutual interest is not out of place. Such questions are rude only when there is no legitimate motive for asking. When one’s house is for sale, many people who would normally cut out their tongues rather than ask the price of anything owned by anyone else might inquire for the sake of telling possible buyers they know. Anyway, this is hardly the time to worry about getting on cozier terms with the neighbors. The ultimate solution to the neighbors problem is always moving away—provided you can get a good deal on your house, of course.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – My wife, who has an art degree, hung several of her large, non-representational paintings in the den and living room of the house we just finished decorating. Personally, I love these paintings. To me, they make dramatic statements about color and texture, and seem to make the house come to life. I wouldn’t want to take them down for anything, and neither does my wife.
But in the past two months, we have entertained three different couples—and all have frequently and directly told us that if we really wanted to make more friends in the community, it would be advisable for us to remove my wife’s paintings and replace them with more traditional and “less insulting” imagery. A visitor asking us to join her church has merely made the comment that the paintings are rather upsetting, but has kept quiet after that remark.
Are we violating any standards of manners that we don’t know about? I thought it was okay to have your own paintings, no matter what they were, up in your own house. My wife’s work is really no more harmful or upsetting than Robert Rauschenberg’s work back in the 70s.
It’s not that we expect anyone to become art majors. It’s that we wonder whether we should keep our home the way we want it, or, as in the days we were children, conform to our parents’ rules about the house. Or are there rules we are not aware of?
GENTLE READER – Where do you live? There must be legions of artists whose ambition it is to shock people, but who find it difficult to get a rise out of anyone any more, and utterly impossible to do so with nonrepresentational art. They might want to move next door, which would at least solve your problem.
There are people in this situation who do seem to be unaware of rules of etiquette, but the people are your visitors, and the rules of which they are unaware are: “Mind your own business” and “Do not insult your hosts” (on two counts: their talents and their decor). Miss Manners cannot believe that there is an entire community of such rude people. Perhaps you should express your regret that they do not approve of your taste and your wife’s talents, and look farther afield for polite companionship.
What a charming idea, the neighbors thought when they received house-warming invitations from the stranger who bought the house they had all been wondering about. (They hadn’t been wondering who would move into it, but how much it would fetch and whether they could then jack up the price of their own houses, but never mind.)
Miss Manners hopes that some of the established residents also had a small twinge, remembering that it was their duty to welcome newcomers, and not the newcomers’ to announce themselves. No matter whose idea it was, the thought of meeting new neighbors other than over a discussion of whose-dog-did-what-where was an appealing one.
Actually, it wasn’t the new neighbors’ idea. Closer inspection of the invitation showed that the party to meet the neighbors in their new house was being given by the real estate agent who sold it to them. Although the party would serve the new-neighbor purpose, the intention behind it had to be a desire to make new clients.
Miss Manners sniffs a trend here. As people neglect their social duties, commercial ventures take over. Added to conventional business entertaining, fund-raising events put on by nonprofit enterprises and publicity-raising events put on by profit enterprises (Miss Manners sometimes wonders when the definition of society became people who attend parties thrown by perfume companies to launch new smells) are these more simple events.
She does not, however, sniff at the effort. Indeed, she is indebted to the bookstore for taking up Madame de Staël’s burden of providing a salon where people of literary inclinations could meet. With the decline of private entertaining, it is as well that someone is taking up the slack.
What worries her is that all this will administer the death blow to the already feeble notion of private social duty. Look what the burgeoning popularity of the restaurant has done to the private dinner party. Restaurant manners allow deciding at the last minute if one wants to eat out, bringing along whoever one wishes, ignoring everybody else present and, above all, declaring one’s dietary preferences. So why can’t one do that when invited for dinner by a friend? Any host could explain why not, and the rude ones sometimes do. Using restaurant manners in private homes has ruined private entertaining.
Conversely, look what using home manners for watching television—talking, eating, walking in and out, stopping for telephone calls—has done to movie-going, theater-going and other such activities. If the situation becomes even more confused, how will anyone know which manners are required?
Even strict Miss Manners cannot pretend that parties given for commercial purposes incur the same obligations as does pure hospitality. For example, you don’t have to invite the department store back. Nor to remember to send it something at Christmas, because it gave you a bag full of samples to take home.
Superficially, there is little difference between the open house that a real estate agent might give to show a house on the market to prospective buyers and the party to show the buyer to the neighbors. People are already used to the etiquette appropriate to viewing a house for sale. Miss Manners is only afraid that they will traipse through the new neighbor’s house, complaining about its deficiencies, inquiring about its cost and commenting about how its looks could be improved by upgrading the taste of the furnishings. She would also hate to see anyone still inclined to perform such a personal duty as calling on a new neighbor decide to wait until someone with a financial motive makes the effort instead.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Our next door neighbors, with whom we were pretty close, sold their house to a couple who will be moving in next week. My family and I would like to get to know our new neighbors, and help them move in—but not in a nosy manner. How can we approach them so we do not seem to be intruding?
GENTLE READER – Have we come to this? That the fine old tradition of welcoming new neighbors is in danger of appearing to be an affront?
Unfortunately, Miss Manners knows how this has happened. There is so much genuine nosiness going about shamelessly rooting for gossip, that fastidious people may be wary of any interest. So it is not unreasonable to worry that your desire to be helpful may be misinterpreted.
If your previous neighbors have not moved out of town, you might suggest that they introduce you; at the least, they could introduce you by mail. Still, it will be your place to make the first move. Just hanging around as they move in may not be a good idea. People tend to feel at their worst then, and to take offers of help as disguised license for scrutinizing their possessions. The charming way is to leave the traditional bread and salt, or a little basket of flowers or fruit, with a note offering to tell them about the neighborhood and your telephone number.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – In our new neighborhood, the neighbors couldn’t be more friendly. Our next door neighbor had a welcome-to-the-neighborhood party for us, and told us to bring towels if we wanted to relax and converse in their spa after dinner. The problem was, we were the only ones wearing bathing suits. Everyone else was totally naked, even one couple who are Mormon.
While no one commented on our wearing bathing suits, we felt very uncomfortable, but didn’t want to be rude and leave, particularly since these were the nicest people we have met in ages. They accepted us as we were, yet we couldn’t accept their nudity. What should we have done? What should we do in the future?
GENTLE READER – They do sound like nice people, although of course Miss Manners hasn’t seen as much of them as you have. Giving a welcoming party and failing to notice that you were differently attired from everyone else are both polite acts. So surely you do not want Miss Manners to chastise them for setting the dress standard in their own house. (They might properly have warned you of it, but perhaps they consider it a well-known local custom.)
Rather, you have the choice of (1) accepting similar invitations after asking if they mind if you wear your bathing suits and after having practiced looking everybody straight in the eye, and (2) declining invitations to their spa but encouraging their friendship otherwise by issuing other invitations to them.
In the latter case, you might want to borrow the phrase people used to use when the custom of wearing evening clothes in the evening could unfortunately no longer be taken for granted. People who still observed the amenities would say to their guests, “We’ll be dressing for dinner.”
DEAR MISS MANNERS – There are two problems with the housewarming party I am having: One, that I have a lot of things, such as knickknacks, glassware, books and expensive furniture. And two, that I have a huge, two-story colonial that looks like a mansion.
What it boils down to is that I am afraid that people might feel there is nothing they can get me, because it may look to them as if I have everything, which I don’t. Also, they might get very jealous when they walk into my home and leave and finally that they may feel their present is not good enough. What should I do? Should I send a list of things I need along with the invitation, or simply send the invitation and hope things work out?
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners understands your fear that people might find this occasion confusing. By calling it a housewarming, you are only too likely to give the unfortunate impression that the purpose is to offer hospitality, rather than to solicit contributions.
The ritual you have in mind is not the party, but the charity drive. Miss Manners is not super-confident that you will encounter many people who prefer to devote their philanthropy to the owners of colonial “mansions” than to the homeless, but at least they will have been warned what you expect.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I am a single woman who rents the ground floor apartment in a large house otherwise occupied by my landlord and his family. I have enjoyed a cordial relationship with them, exchanging pleasantries when we meet, but something bothers me. My landlords give several outdoor barbecues in the backyard for many of their friends on warm weekends, and I never even once received a courtesy invitation to join them. This despite the fact that the barbecue was set right in front of my living room window, my door is always open in summer, and barbecue odors inevitably waft through my apartment. These people knew I was home, they could see me inside, but merely waved hello and went on cooking and eating no more than six feet away.
I am not needy. Nor do I desperately need food. But I’ve had tenants of my own in the past, and always invited them and my neighbors to any backyard barbecues. I do not remember anyone who did not appreciate the courtesy, much less decline to come. Now I am the tenant and I feel my landlords are rude and insensitive. Surely inviting one more guest would not be a burden when they are entertaining a dozen others. I am considering moving out. What do you say?
GENTLE READER – That you should move out.
It is not that Miss Manners shares your indignation. People who feel that social privileges go with the real estate should simply not be living with those who are understandably wary of setting such precedents. The problem with landlord-tenant socializing is that each can plainly see what the other is doing. It is obvious when a party is being given, and it may also be obvious whether someone who declines an invitation is really otherwise busy.
Warmly as etiquette promotes friendliness and hospitality, it also discourages intrusiveness. Thus we have the convention of pretending not to notice—a widely useful social fiction by which people seem unaware of what is happening under their noses (or in the case of the barbecue odors, right up their noses). If this were not invoked, neighbors would never be free from one another’s company or interest. Without even trying, near-neighbors simply have too much information about one another for comfort. You don’t want them to tell you what they think of the gentleman who comes calling or to ask why a nice young lady like you is so often home alone on weekends.
The accident of geography has no relation to whether those dozen friends of theirs would like you or you would like them. You might soon find yourself hiding under your bed, or they might be reduced to sneaking people in and cautioning them not to sound as if they are having too good a time.
Provided that everyone understands and practices a general policy of not noticing what is going on, Miss Manners would see no harm, and perhaps some good, in making a very occasional exception. As one can no longer count on anyone’s being able to handle any behavior more complicated than blurting out the obvious, your landlords may not want to raise your expectations. As you already have social expectations of them, Miss Manners cannot help thinking that they may be right.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Teenagers who arrive without a costume, cigarettes aglow, hanging all over their latest squeeze, with a pillowcase as a trick or treat sack, have made many of my neighbors consider turning off the lights and locking the door on Halloween. My next door neighbor was literally cursed for having run out of candy!
I personally spend what I consider a generous amount (over $100) on candy to give to young children. I do it because when I was a child, the people in our community did it for us. It was a magical time of make-believe.
So every year, I drag out all my decorations, buy candy, put on my costume and wait to hear the joyous sound of little children shouting, “Trick or treat!” I always enjoy the sense of merriment I experience through the children.
I resent, however, giving candy to people who are bigger than I am, and should be looking for a job instead of a handout of candy.
I find it more than a little discouraging that parents haven’t shown or explained to their youngsters appropriate behavior for this activity, but clearly they have not. I would have been whipped for some of the rudeness I have encountered when my parents got wind of it—and they would have certainly heard from the offended party. I would like to propose some guidelines for those taking part that would make it a pleasant experience for all involved.
I truly think that everyone would enjoy Halloween more. I plan to have fun no matter how inconsiderate others may be and I hope that the children that come to my door all have a safe and fun Halloween.
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners welcomes you to the etiquette business. Instead of shutting your doors and blaming the children, you understand that the problem is ignorance of the rules, and you have taken the trouble to supply them. She might question you about some details: What about children who are too shy to make the required announcement? Is an age cutoff that important if the people are in costume and in the spirit of the occasion? (And how can you tell nowadays whether a teenager is in costume?) Shouldn’t you alert people to respond to excessive demands by saying gently “Please wait until everybody has had firsts” or “I’m saving these for the little ones”?
That should not obscure her hearty basic agreement with you. Without its rules and traditions, Trick or Treating is indistinguishable from mugging. Why would anyone willingly open the doors to that?
All right, we’ve solved the smoking problem. Now let’s move on to the noise problem.
What’s that? We haven’t solved the smoking problem? Why? Because the citizens are battling one another on the streets? Because friendships have been destroyed through banishment and boycotts? Because families haven’t been so torn down the middle by a single issue since the Civil War? Miss Manners, who tries to operate at a lofty level above that squabbling, only meant that we have solved the smoking problem in principle. The practice takes somewhat longer. Much longer. All right, a lot longer.
The principle is that people who enjoy themselves in potentially intrusive ways ought—preferably without being asked, but most certainly if they are asked (politely, one hopes)—to restrain themselves in the presence of those on whom such activities have an unpleasant effect. Is that a sufficiently nonprovocative way of putting it?
It is not that we want to spoil anybody’s fun—only that we want to take reasonable precautions against spoiling the pleasure of others. (That neither part of this statement is true does not disturb Miss Manners; decent people must act as if they were.) It is not an even contest: The wish not to be disturbed has precedence over the desire to do something generally recognized as disturbing.
In a society that has emphasized individual rights at the expense of community preferences, the idea that one shouldn’t exercise one’s right to annoy people is a hard-won principle. It ought to be more widely applied, and noise would be a good place to start. There is nothing inherently wrong in talking, laughing, playing music, playing really loud music, snapping chewing gum, whistling, whispering or receiving telephone calls, but there are wrong places to do each of these things, and people should not have to bop one another on the head to establish where they are.
Yet we seem condemned to attack the noise issue separately, each instance with its own drawn-out warfare. Miss Manners is afraid that this is because we didn’t really learn from the smoking wars. Instead of accepting the etiquette principle, we recast the problem as being entirely a health issue, giving it enough dignity to be removed from the jurisdiction of etiquette and turned over to the law.
Miss Manners is not disputing that smoking is also a health issue. Please go away with all those intrusive statistics. But by making health the only issue involved, we have managed to avoid dealing with the annoyance issue, which keeps popping up. It has become illegal to smoke in many places, but it is not illegal to annoy others if you can find ways to do so without causing cancer. By hounding them for smoking where they are permitted to do so, for example.
Miss Manners hastens to say that she does not want annoyance to be declared illegal, however much her own life would be improved by making the police deal with the rapidly rising annoyance rate. The number of laws that would have to be passed would bring the society—not to mention the cause of freedom—to a screeching halt, although screeching itself would doubtless be outlawed. That is why she is not going to make self-righteous claims about noise being a health hazard, however tempting that might be. She is not even going to advance everybody’s currently favorite argument—that whatever is disagreeable causes serious damage to mental health.
Noise annoys the neighbors. People shouldn’t annoy one another because it’s annoying.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Every morning, between 6:30 and 6:45, my neighbor says good-bye to her family by honking the horn two to four times as she drives up the street. This is also their way of saying hello and good-bye throughout the day. My bedroom faces the street, and because of inadequate sound-proofing (which would be cost prohibitive right now), along with a sleeping problem I’m having, I hear this even with the windows closed. Custom-made earplugs don’t work for me. Since the sleeping problem is mine, not theirs, and I have not heard of any other complaints, do I have a right to politely ask them to refrain from honking so early? I don’t want to create hard feelings.
GENTLE READER – Hard feelings do not generally arise from neighborly requests along the lines of “I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I have a sleeping problem, and although I’ve tried closing the windows and wearing earplugs, I still wake up when you honk the horn in the morning. I wonder if you would mind not using the horn unless it’s an emergency.”
Hard feelings arise when people say nothing until they can’t stand it another minute and then lean out the window screaming, “Will you idiots shut up—it’s 6:30 in the morning, and normal people are trying to sleep! Keep it up and I’m coming out there after you and you’d better believe it’ll be to shut you up permanently.”
Miss Manners has always wondered why so many people try the second method without even giving the first one a chance. When she inquires, she is told that it is unwise nowadays to venture any criticism at all, however politely, because there are so many crazy people around. So they hold off as long as they can—which is not forever. Oddly enough, the one point on which they and the neighbors are sure to agree is that there are crazy people in the neighborhood.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – How is an apartment dweller to deal gently but convincingly with neighbors who tread heavily overhead? The cleanliness of my criminal record is in your hands.
When Mr. Clydesdale moved in and started making my light fixtures sway, I tried telling him that, surely unbeknownst to him, his traffic was all too apparent. Mystified, he said that he was not often home and when he was, he never wore shoes. I begged him nevertheless to keep the issue in mind, as it was causing me discomfort. Clearly, he thought I had lost my mind. Perhaps, he suggested, I wanted him not to walk about his apartment whatsoever. My assurances that I sought mere sensitivity fell on deaf ears, and I withdrew. His eventual departure brought—gasp—worse still. Miss Mastodon is petite, but she packs a bigger thud. She took my entreaty in good cheer, but one still expects feet to come though the ceiling—my guests glance distractedly skyward.
Can Miss Manners provide this reader with a bit of fortitude with which to try polite channels again, when homicide is foremost on his mind? These low-frequency sounds cannot be covered up with, say, background music. I need to convey the idea that one can moderate one’s gait.
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners is trying very hard to be on your side, not only to keep the homicide rate down, but because you seem so reasonable. Also, she sympathizes with sensitivity to noise. So she was somewhat dismayed to find herself slipping over to the point of view of the gentleman who already removes his shoes and is nervous about what you expect him to do next. Neighbors should not be disturbed by noise, but it is a bit much to ask people to remove their feet when they come home.
How can Miss Manners protect you, while keeping your complaint at its present gentle level, when it is not working? She noticed that the situation was not peculiar to one neighbor, as the next tenant was a problem as well. Nor was it peculiar to you (forgive Miss Manners, but the possibility occurred to her), as your guests also hear it.
Suddenly, she realized that you could complain just as reasonably, but with a more reasonable solution to propose, if you were to redirect your complaint to your landlord. To keep this polite while making it effective, you should enlist the other residents in declaring that the construction of the building is such that only by installing heavy carpeting can the noise problem be solved.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – We have a neighbor who plays his stereo so loudly that everyone in the neighborhood has to hear it all weekend every weekend. I can’t ever spend a Sunday afternoon reading on the deck, for example, because he dominates the atmosphere. Whenever I ask him to turn it down, he grumbles and does so, but soon the volume’s up again. It’s like he wants to prove to us all that he rules the neighborhood. Any ideas? The police are uninterested.
GENTLE READER – The police refuse to enforce your noise ordinances, so you want Miss Manners to march in there and turn that thing off? Or perhaps pitch it out the window and your neighbor along with it?
Grateful as she is for your faith, Miss Manners regrets to tell you that etiquette does not use force. It uses people’s good will, if they have any, and if that doesn’t work, it uses shame. You have already tried the good will, so let us move on.
Shame would work best if it involved the offender’s reputation with the whole neighborhood, not just with one person whom he can dismiss as a fuss-budget. You could send a letter with a number of signatures on it, or you could organize a group of people to go with you next time he blasts the neighborhood. In either case, the complaint should be made politely as well as firmly. Nevertheless, confronting a group of unhappy people who live all around him may turn out to be just as frightening as opening the door to police or to Miss Manners brandishing a fork.
The necessity of warning children against predatory adults—not only in the streets but now also on the information highway that cuts right through the household—has left families in a state of etiquette bewilderment. Here is the way most parents handle it:
Is that clear, children?
No, you can’t report the man next door, even though he is so mean when your ball goes into his yard or you play the radio with the windows open. Yes, you have to help your great-aunt find her glasses, although it’s true that she never says please; and yes, you have to answer Grandpa’s nosy questions about your grades and be polite when he lectures you about things that are not your fault.
Well, then who is it who is bad and doesn’t need to be treated politely?
Oh. It’s grown-ups who try especially hard to be friendly and helpful to children. If one of those approaches you—run.
All of this makes perfect sense to Miss Manners, but not to the parents who say it, much less to the children. The parents leave themselves so confused and weakened by their own lessons that they come down with a severe case of paradox.
They end up telling themselves that the first lesson—which they had taken so much trouble to impress upon the children when they were too young to venture about by themselves—represents an etiquette ideal which would be nice in a perfect world, while the second is necessary for survival in the real world. The more foolish among them may even offer the children this explanation—basically that etiquette is for suckers. Miss Manners could offer them relief. But it would require taking another heavy dose of etiquette rather than swearing off it.
The problem is that for more than a generation now, idealists have worked to erase the differences between strangers and friends or intimates. The guideposts by which one could distinguish the progression from one stage to another—introductions, the long-term changes in the way people address one another, the gradual growth of confidentiality—have been systematically abolished as stuffy and snobbish. There are no strangers. Only new friends. Some people went further than that and taught the idea that there was a special bond among strangers. Friends may not have one’s best interests at heart, relatives are presumed psychological enemies, but there was supposed to be something pure about confidences exchanged among strangers. It was no longer necessary to purchase an airplane ticket to find new people to whom to tell one’s life story and troubles.
Finally, with the advent of cyberspace communities, strangers were free even of material clues. Looks, after all, offer some information, even though much can be faked. How old the person is, whether his or her demeanor seems restrained, and the symbolic messages in clothing choice can at least be roughly guessed. But age, gender and identity can be instantly and successfully disguised on-line.
Miss Manners realizes that she is sounding colossally stuffy again. Many people enjoy and benefit from the freedom of association thus offered. That is all very well as long as participants understand that the foundation of friendship—trust—cannot be present. It is impossible to judge the sincerity or intentions of someone you don’t know and can’t see.
Children who have not been taught that properly behaved people maintain a certain distance from those they do not know are going to have a hard time keeping this in mind when they are immediately invited to address adults as intimately as they address their relatives and instructed by their pastors to hug strangers sitting next to them. Thus, the difficulty lies with the etiquette lessons that have not been given, rather than with the ones that have. Children must be taught to recognize when people—not just strangers but people they know—are claiming privileges they don’t deserve. This is because the being-totally-open-to-everyone idea is a false, if flattering, conception of etiquette. Polite behavior actually permits a far greater amount of privacy and autonomy than is endorsed by the society at large, where the mandate for universal friendliness (perhaps spurred on by the hope of meeting exciting strangers) negates that choice.
By the standards of good manners, strangers on the street properly ignore one another, except for quick requests for the time or directions that are obviously not conversation openers. People one meets on-line are stepping out of line if they attempt to ascertain personal information or make arrangements to meet off-line. Any overture beyond what is warranted by the conventions of the situation—“taking liberties” is the haughty phrase for it—should be considered a danger signal from which it is proper, as well as prudent, to withdraw. There is nothing improper about rejecting improper advances.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Our neighbors have a four-year-old son who has become rude, uncontrolled and seemingly without the guidance needed from parents. They choose to ignore his impolite behavior, name-calling and disobedient actions. We very much like our neighbors, but we find their son’s behavior intolerable. Several other neighbors are reluctant to allow the lad to play with their children of a similar age. The parents seem oblivious to this fact. The boy is about one year away from going to school and will experience a variety of problems unless his behavior changes drastically in the near future. Should we say anything on this topic to the parents?
GENTLE READER – Such as “Everybody in this neighborhood finds your son intolerable”? To which they can reply, “Really? We hadn’t noticed, but we are grateful to you for bringing this to our attention; he is rather intolerable, isn’t he? Perhaps we should upgrade.”
One does not make negative generalizations about other people’s children or child-rearing. For one thing, it is rude, and for another, you may be unaware of what the problems are and how the parents may be working on them. For a third, it doesn’t help. Their first loyalties are to him, however misguided their methods, and you will simply anger and upset them.
Miss Manners does allow you to complain about specific things that affect you. If you promise to speak with a sorrowful air of understanding the waywardness of children and difficulty of a parent’s job, you can say “I’m sorry to have to tell on him, but I thought you’d want to know that Clarence has been screaming obscenities around the neighborhood again.”
DEAR MISS MANNERS – When my family and I returned home from vacation, we found that our house had been “wrapped.” About 40 or 50 rolls of toilet paper were used. They had entered our gate and had strewn toilet paper over our hammock, our barbecue pit, our hot-tub, the porch, and, of course, the bushes, trees and rooftops. They did a thorough job. It had been raining, so all the paper turned to soggy mush.
The next day, a “friend” at church informed us that he had driven his daughter and her friends to our home. He was making sure the girls were “safe,” and he posted look-outs in the front of our house as the girls wrapped it. I was speechless and devastated. I took it very personally. Adults—would-be friends—were encouraging their children, even helping them, to vandalize our home while they knew we were on vacation and defenseless.
I told our good neighbors exactly what I thought of our wonderful welcome home surprise. Am I over-reacting? Is this really an OK thing to do to a neighbor? My husband thinks I’m silly. I think it is terribly rude and I do not feel comfortable around people who would do such a thing without offering to help clean up the mess or uttering one word of apology.
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners is not amused, and does not require you to be so. An action that created trouble and mess—not to mention the fact that it probably alerted potential burglars to the fact that your house was uninhabited—cannot be classified as a harmless prank. However, she understands that your husband does not want to start a feud with the neighbors.
The way to get around this difficulty is to appeal to them as responsible parents (in the face of proof that they are not). As they expressed concern over the safety of their children, you might assume that they are also worried about the children’s character. Tell them that you suppose they want to teach their children responsibility for their actions, and that you would be glad to supervise, and perhaps even provide light refreshments, for the day on which the children will clean up the mess. An unwrapping party, as it were.
The hospitable phrasing of this is not just to make palatable your highly justified indignation. Miss Manners believes it would be a genuine contribution to civility for you to show the children that you are not a disembodied target for their amusement, but a person who cares about her neighbors, as well as about her property.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – My husband and I live in a middle class neighborhood, have no children and take a great pride in our yard, specifically our beautiful flower garden and grass. We have neighbors with teenage boys who play basketball all the time, breaking our flowers and knocking down our shrubs. It’s awful. The worst of it all is that the parents instigate the situation, join in and call us foul names and continually harass us. I have called the sheriff one night when one teenage boy was playing basketball with a friend and ran over my newly planted blue spruce tree. The teenager called me nasty names and when the father came home, he told us not to touch his grass. Is there no discipline for children any more?
GENTLE READER – No, but there is not much among neighbors, either. Your neighbors, who are adults, are calling you names, and you are calling in the law to deal with a careless game of basketball. Miss Manners’ advice to all of you is to calm down and build a fence.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Our home has become the neighborhood center for a large group of my son’s friends. They are all very nice boys, about twelve years old, and we are happy to host them. Some of the children, however, arrive early in the morning and leave only well after dinner. During the school year, they come to our house instead of going home after school. Our suggestions to these boys that their parents might sometimes take the initiative to host the group have been to no avail. In three years, there are parents we have never met or seen only in passing. We are now worried about losing our temper when we finally do see these parents. Is there a way to get these parents involved without making them mad?
GENTLE READER – Probably not. They don’t sound as if they are involved with their own children so why would they want to be involved with other people’s?
Miss Manners asks you to stifle your anger and reflect how much luckier your son is for having parents who care and a home where he knows his friends are welcome. You might even reflect on how lucky you are. You know where your son is. You have the chance to get to know his friends and to offer them some badly needed warmth and supervision. If their parents were just overburdened and grateful that their children had somewhere to go when they work—as no doubt they will argue if you confront them—you would have heard them overflowing with gratitude to you long ago.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I live in a community of town homes in which we share yard space. Certain of my neighbors allow their leashed dogs to relieve themselves daily on the grass in this common space. How can I ask them to pick up after their pets? I find it embarrassing.
GENTLE READER – Embarrassing because of the nature of the matter in question? Or embarrassing because of the nature of your neighbors?
Miss Manners is guessing it’s the latter. People don’t seem to be shy about mentioning the unmentionable nowadays. They only shy away from mentioning their legitimate grievances to the people who caused them.
The way to avoid offending offensive people is to assume that they never meant to offend you and will be grateful for the chance to make amends for an inadvertent error. Something along the lines of “I don’t know if you realize that some of us use the park to play Frisbee. So we’re asking pet owners to clean up after their dogs.” As if you couldn’t have expected anyone to know that the entire outdoors is not a public bathroom.
Miss Manners knows that this probably does not represent what you feel. But if you scream “How’d you like it if I did this on your front steps?” you are not likely to have a peaceful neighborhood. She cast her suggested statement in the plural in order to generalize the problem and thus lessen the embarrassment of the person addressed. The fact that it also suggests that a neighborhood posse might be formed by the huge number of people who share your complaint is incidental.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I am hearing-impaired, and last year acquired a wonderful hearing assistance dog who listens for sounds I do not hear and accompanies me everywhere.
As I was walking through the beautiful wooded campus of my apartment complex last week, a woman I had never seen before came up to me and told me I should not walk the dog in her neighborhood. Assuming that she was concerned about the dog’s natural activities, I showed her the scooper I always carry with me and assured her I always picked up. No, she said, she didn’t want to always be washing the grass with soap and water where the dog had gone! Well, I had no answer to that, but explained that my dog was a service dog and by law allowed to go wherever I went.
“We’ll see about that,” she said. “I’ve lived here for 30 years and we’ve never had a service dog.”
Today I saw this same woman coming toward me, so I kept on walking, choosing not to stop. She followed me for a bit, shouting something, but thankfully I could not hear what she said. What is the proper way to deal with this situation, as it is sure to arise again? I do not wish to defend myself constantly, but I do need to take the dog for her walk.
GENTLE READER – Oh, nice. Miss Manners was aware of the increasingly widespread belief that consideration for other people is an optional virtue, dispensable if one has other concerns, but even she didn’t think it would come to this. Your tormentor is probably all puffed up with the virtue of protecting the cleanliness of the grass.
You have tried etiquette’s Step One, which politely assumes good will on the part of someone who hasn’t demonstrated any, and attempts to appeal to her sense of human decency. This person demonstrated that she doesn’t have any. So you proceeded to Step Two, etiquette’s strongest weapon of refusing to acknowledge the existence of someone not fit for human society. She proved that you were right by behaving even worse.
Miss Manners is afraid that it is time to call in the reserves. She hates it when etiquette fails, and has to turn things over to civic authorities, but that is the way deliberate and unrepentant transgressors must be handled. If the neighbor continues to harass you, you should report this to the police.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – We had an open argument with this neighbor three years ago about the driveway and narrow flowerbed which are the only division between our two urban homes. I ended up refusing to let him remove a tree on our property and pave over our flowerbed. I must admit I also lost my “cool” in the exchange and accused him of being a bully in front of several other neighbors and the work crew he’d already assembled, without consulting us, to cut the tree and lay the cement. Since then, there has been no verbal exchange, until recently.
My husband and I are usually open, friendly people and get along well with all our other neighbors. When we are working in our yard facing his and he comes out of the house only a few feet away, we smile, almost without thinking, and even occasionally say hello. He always responds with a glare. Recently, when my husband greeted him by name, he gave his usual frown and said, “I don’t want to talk to you, and you make damned sure you stay on your side of the property line.”
My major problem with this man has always been not how he conducts his own life but his insistence that we do likewise (the tree he wanted to cut, for instance, shades our bathroom window and provides privacy, both of which we cherish). A part of me is reacting again to his demand that we not smile and say hello. According to the rules of etiquette, should I: (1) Say, “Hello, Richard,” when I spontaneously feel the urge; (2) say, “Hello, Mr. _______” instead; (3) scowl back; (4) never weed my garden facing in that direction, which would entail exposing my backside to his occasional view, something I’m not comfortable with either.
GENTLE READER – Did you really have to throw in that fourth example? Miss Manners would so much rather not have that picture in mind as she asks you to make one more attempt to disarm your irascible neighbor.
She realizes this may not be possible. With someone that unreasonable, you would be justified in withdrawing to a state of silence and vigilance. But that is not a nice way to live and, as you are clever enough to recognize, it would mean that you had allowed him to dictate your behavior. Miss Manners recommends that you continue to recognize his presence with a friendly smile, if not an actual “Hello.” If it doesn’t soften him, you will still have the satisfaction of knowing—and knowing that he knows—that he was unable to change you.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I have some neighbors who I feel lack in manners and consideration when they cut their grass early in the morning during the week and also on weekends. What is the proper etiquette regarding mowing your lawn?
GENTLE READER – According to your neighbors, it is refraining from mowing lawns during working hours, when they are trying to work at home, and evenings, when they are trying to talk to one another. Miss Manners mentions this to point out that the hours you find bothersome are not inherently less reasonable than obvious alternatives. These people are probably just trying to avoid the midday sun by mowing early, and they mow on weekends because it is hard to run home and mow during the working week.
This is not to say that you have to be bothered; only that you may not fuel this feeling with righteous wrath. The polite and neighborly thing to do is to mention apologetically that the hours they choose are bad for you, and to ask them very nicely if there are not other times on which you could both agree.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – One of my neighbors purchased a leaf blower and blows all of her leaves against the fence surrounding her backyard. It is a short chain link fence, so most of the leaves go through and over, into the surrounding neighbors’ yards. We had just cleaned up our yard and I wish I had not seen what she was doing, as she seemed quite happy to see her leaves vanish from her yard. It makes me wonder if she has considered anyone but herself. Should we get a leaf blower and blow them back?
GENTLE READER – Oh, a leaf-blowing contest. What a good idea for a neighborhood get-together. You could all get blowers and then fight about whose leaves are in whose yards. Of course, you would not only turn your home turf into a battleground, but all the yards would end up, after a hard day’s yard work, covered with leaves.
Miss Manners has a less dramatic idea. Why don’t you give your neighbor the benefit of the doubt? Allowing the fun of a new toy to blind one to the consequences for others is not the most evil form of selfishness on record. You could say, in a neighborly way, “I’ve been admiring your leaf blower, and I was thinking of getting one. But then your leaves ended up in my yard—so if I got one, they’d just end up back in your yard. Is there a way to use it which would actually get rid of the leaves?”
BLOWING OFF THE NEIGHBORS: Pride in property, prowess and noisy equipment may be among the joys of civilized life, but antagonizing the neighbors is self-defeating, not to mention highly unwise. They know where you live.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Along with all our neighbors, we have always placed our refuse in front of our home. However, our new next door neighbors insist on putting their garbage in front of our house. They even went as far as to place an old toilet in our driveway. They don’t seem to like the appearance of garbage in front of their home. If this behavior is improper, how should we approach them?
GENTLE READER – With the toilet seat in hand, a concerned look on your faces, and the question “Did you lose this?” Miss Manners does not, however, recommend doing this with a bag full of garbage. Whatever subtlety there was (which she admits isn’t much) would be lost. A polite note, along the lines of “We hate to bother you with such a petty matter, but for some reason, your garbage seems to be drifting down to our house, and we’re afraid the collectors might think we’re exceeding our amount,” would be better.
Yes, Miss Manners knows that the offense, probably in more senses than one, is theirs. Nevertheless, neighbor-to-neighbor challenges never lead to any good. Especially not when they are already skilled at transporting their garbage.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I know this is really dumb, but I want to know what consideration one might expect from the sanitation department and from one’s neighbors in the age of recycling. I love recycling, but I think the process needs more thinking through.
I have two large grocery bags a week of mixed paper, small cardboard items and magazines. I don’t want to take them out to the curb early, because they look messy and it might rain. Also, that’s my personal mail among the discards. If a bag gets kicked and broken by kids, I don’t want my personal mail blowing up and down the block, so I close these bags with staples. I’m sure the city hates that, so they had better think of a better system than the open boxes they provide.
When I entertain, I have two bags of recycle paper lying around with no place to store them out of sight. When they were garbage, it was simple to carry them to the trash can.
Cans and bottles I find easy. If they’re too messy to rinse fairly clean with one swipe under the faucet, I put them in the dishwasher. If a can is really gunked up, I toss it in the garbage. They go under the sink in a bag, then get transferred to the street at the last minute.
My neighbors are not as compulsive as I am. One keeps a recycle box in our shared carport area and throws all tins in there until it’s full, which can be a month. Nothing is rinsed and old chili and spaghetti sauce are open to the heat and flies. This used to be against the sanitation laws. Actually, I think it probably still is. But mostly I hate it because I’m compulsively tidy.
GENTLE READER – If you don’t mind, Miss Manners will leave the rethinking about recycling to you, who are better qualified than she to do it, and confine herself to dealing with the etiquette aspect of the situation. That requires recognizing—both on your part, in dealing with your neighbors, and on the part of your local authorities, to whom you should appeal—that the recycling you feel necessary puts a burden on the citizens.
That is not to say that this may not be worth it—but only that the concept of washing the garbage is a relatively new one, for which acceptance and compliance depends on attitude as well as law. Thus, you will be more successful with law enforcers if you suggest ways, such as better-sealed containers, to make things easier. Your neighbors will be more receptive to sympathy about their fly problem than to complaints about their sloppiness.
Your charm in attributing your compliance to excessive tidiness is a good start. Miss Manners doesn’t for a moment believe that the opposite of messiness is compulsiveness, but she understands the value of self-deprecation in getting others up to one’s standards.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – My husband and I worked hard in order to afford to have a pool installed in our backyard, yet the neighbors talk as though we’ll be running a community swim club. They are dropping subtle hints, such as “My children are so anxious to try out your new pool.”
I barely know the mother’s name, let alone the children’s, but now we’re to be the closest of friends. These same neighbors have rudely ignored my attempts to be friendly since we moved in three years ago, when I attempted to strike up conversations—instead making references to my youth and the fact that I work rather than stay home. Maybe I have some resentment because I feel this sudden friendliness is phony. How do I politely let them know that the pool was installed for my family’s use and we don’t intend to be lifeguards for their children all summer?
Why is it that neighbors would never dream of asking to borrow your new car for the weekend, but think nothing of inviting themselves over to use your new pool?
GENTLE READER – Why? Because they have cars, of course.
It is true that a swimming pool is a classic example of what Miss Manners believes is known as an attractive nuisance, which in this case means that it has attracted the local nuisances. Miss Manners defends your right not to have to entertain the neighborhood; you need only say, “I’m afraid we really can’t have people using it when we’re not there—insurance problems, you know—and usually when we are there, because my husband and I have so little time to relax alone.”
Shall we be slightly more charitable? (Easy for Miss Manners to say, considering that it’s your pool.) You did, after all, once think it desirable to be on friendly terms with your neighbors. What about throwing a neighborhood pool party in, say, midsummer? Don’t do it at the beginning, or it will look as if you are opening the pool season. This way, you will have made a gesture, and you can reply to all self-invitations with “Yes, we’re so looking forward to seeing you the second Saturday in August.”
DEAR MISS MANNERS – I was taught to respect other people’s property. How do you feel about next door neighbors using your driveway to turn around in—every day or night?! I consider it very rude, but then I thought maybe it was just the way I was raised.
GENTLE READER – Miss Manners must have an underdeveloped sense of property, but try as she will, she cannot imagine what harm is done you by your neighbors’ turning around in your driveway. Is it wearing out the cement? She also has a different standard than you do of what is “very rude.” Borrowing your car without your permission would be very rude. Running over your dog would be very rude. Driving into your driveway for the purpose of making rude gestures at you would be very rude.
Miss Manners notices that you do not ask how to get them to stop, but how she feels about it. She feels that this is a trivial technical trespass that could easily be overlooked in the interests of neighborliness.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – Let me tell you a story about a self-appointed dictator: I have lived for almost 40 years on a street that is just off of a main street (to be referred to as M). There are 5 short streets that run off of M. Designating these short streets as 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, with #1 being the northernmost street, I can take any of those 5 streets to get to my house. I live on street #4, and for years I have traveled any and all of streets #1 through #5. The one I take depends upon which direction I am traveling and the flow of traffic at the time.
I have a neighbor (designated as N for neighbor) that I met years ago, shortly after moving into this neighborhood. We were friends for many years, but that time has passed. She now behaves like a self-appointed authority determining what I can or can’t do. She has, it seems, dictated that I cannot drive on Street No. 3 (the reason being that a male friend of her family has an apartment on Street No. 3 in which he spends a portion of each week). I have spotted two “spies” living on Street #3, watching to see where I drive. The “spy” apparently calls N’s house to report that I am driving on the “forbidden” street. One day, I had driven from M street on Street #3, and I had watched a spy watching me. Just after turning the corner to get to my house on Street #4, I met N’s husband, driving as fast as he could safely drive to get to Street #3. He looked terribly upset. Obviously, the spy had called N’s house to report that I was driving on the “forbidden” street.
I went over to N’s house to discuss the matter. She opened her front door, stood with the door partially opened, and said “Yes?”
I said to her, “As far as I know this is still a free country and we still have a Constitution. That Constitution guarantees and/or protects the individual rights of people who live in this country.” (If they are U.S. citizens.) I went on to say, “I can drive my car on any street I want.” She slammed the door—and I went home!
My opinion, Miss Manners, is that if a self-appointed dictator is attempting to tell you what you can or cannot do, use any legal means at your disposal to counteract the tyranny!
GENTLE READER – Even without paying strict attention to your formula with all those interesting numbers and letters, Miss Manners concludes that what you have there is a genuine Neighborhood Nut. An imaginative one at that. Dreadful as neighborhood bullies are, they usually confine themselves to criticizing lawns, children, parties and pets. Attempting to run you off the city streets is a new one.
You may be the immediate target—and forgive Miss Manners, but for all she knows, you may even be the N.N. yourself, to whom this is not really happening. In either case, everyone is bound to know about the Neighborhood Nut, who becomes the stuff of legend to children. When action must be taken, it is therefore possible to get together a group to complain, calmly and sympathetically but firmly, to a responsible person (a grown child, for example) or whatever local authority can help. What one does not do is to confront the Neighborhood Nut by yelling nuttily back—first, because it is, by definition, useless, and second, because it is nutty.
In theory, we treasure those good-hearted, generous souls who care about so much more than just their own personal welfare that they constantly devote themselves to causes that benefit others. So why do we all run when we see them coming?
Miss Manners has long been puzzling over the unpopularity of do-gooders. We ought to cherish, above all, those whose dedication to improving the world is not simply sporadic, but a major commitment. Yet we tend to find them tiresome, if not actually offensive. How can that be? Miss Manners has concluded that it is—surprise, surprise—a question of manners.
It is true that many socially active people are as devoted to the niceties of behavior that affect the feelings of the individuals they meet as they are to the larger issues that affect all humanity, not to mention the animal kingdom and the environment. A great many others believe that having morals relieves them of the need to have mere manners. No matter how many causes they are able to embrace, they only seem to have room for one virtue. And the practice of etiquette isn’t it. In fact, Miss Manners is scandalized to find, they will often deny that practicing etiquette is a virtue. Rather, they would classify it as a sin—the dread sin of (shudder) hypocrisy.
When it comes to that, Miss Manners believes that the world could use a great deal more hypocrisy. People who pretend to care more about others than they actually do are a great deal easier to bear than those who fail to drop a gentle disguise over their most unpalatable thoughts and feelings.
Surely, people who actually do care about doing good in the world ought to recognize that there are instances in which the virtue of kindness ought to take precedence over the virtue of speaking one’s mind.
Yet one-on-one kindness seems to strike certain do-gooders as too petty to be worthwhile. Pressed on having neglected such niceties as showing respect for others, honoring their privacy, and refraining from embarrassing or humiliating them, they will declare a state of emergency, in which looming tragedy has canceled prevailing etiquette.
The need for etiquette is not canceled so easily. Springing, as it does, from a commitment to honoring the feelings of others, the practice of etiquette is abandoned at some cost. What a rude person has to say about morality is easily dismissed, on the grounds that any claim to altruism is obviously spurious. (Besides, the reasoning is faulty. Emergencies are when etiquette is needed most. Heroism is the decision to maintain one’s consideration for others in the face of danger to oneself.)
Acting for the general good does not excuse sacrificing any individuals who happen to get in one’s way. Techniques of drawing good causes to the public attention through hurling insults, yelling at passersby on the street, subjecting them to public humiliation or throwing things at them cancel any claim to a true interest in doing good, Miss Manners maintains.
Besides, they never work. Miss Manners has seen many a person won over to a good cause through polite appeals to reason or compassion, under conditions ranging from drawing room discussion to picketing. She has never yet heard of anyone who was under rude attack killing the instinct for self-defense and saying: “Wait a minute—I believe you have a point there. It’s a good thing you yelled and threw paint at me, because it made me realize that you are right and I was wrong. I appreciate your calling this to my attention.”
DEAR MISS MANNERS – A few years ago, I was involved in a city-wide ministry that matched people who had problems with people who had been through the same problem.
After I gave birth to a child with Down’s Syndrome, I was helped immeasurably by a woman who called me up out of the blue and talked about her own daughter. She told me a nurse at the hospital had mentioned I might need some help, and we talked for two hours. I am naturally reticent, but I later signed up for the ministry with the intention of giving back what I had been given—namely hope and sanity.
My first call was fine. I went to a hospital to see a new mother and left her feeling better, I believe. My next call was a nightmare. The woman who answered refused to let me speak with the new mother and demanded to know how I got her name, refusing to believe that I had no idea who turned it in. She was extremely rude and told me not to call again. This crushed me, and I resigned from the ministry. Lately, I have begun to wonder if maybe the whole concept had been—well, invasive. Where is the line between invading and helping?
GENTLE READER – You meant so well that Miss Manners would like to make you feel better by sharing a similar experience. But she hasn’t had any. Here’s why:
She shares your belief that an essential way to repay kindness is to pass it on to others. At the same time, she has always remembered what so many people forget in the throes of a commendable desire to help—that morality never cancels the need for mannerliness. When the sharing technique you describe swept the country, enthusiasts forgot that charity must be tempered with respect for the sovereignty of others. Many believed so strongly in its benefits that they forced confidences on and from others, in the belief that any resistance should be overcome for the other person’s own good.
It is wrong, as you were jarred to discover, to invade the privacy of others, particularly when they are suffering. Not everybody finds it comforting to talk with strangers. This should not discourage you from offering help—only from skipping the step of inquiring delicately whether it would be welcome. It would be best if someone from the hospital staff told patients that this counseling is available. You could also help your ministry by drawing up a letter explaining what it offers. Strangers should not be telephoning around to offer their services—even the medical profession considers that wrong.
A new social form is replacing those great staples of fund-raising, the bake sale and the car wash. It’s called the “celebrity auction,” and every organization that wants to help a school or fight a disease is holding one (and referring to it, in announcements and invitations, as their own “creative idea”).
Instead of making brownies or spending a day washing cars, the community-minded put their efforts into petitioning celebrities to donate “something personal,” on which the citizenry will be inspired to spend vast sums that it would not otherwise have considered donating to charity. The acquisitive desires of groupies are thus painlessly channeled into philanthropy.
It struck Miss Manners as rather unseemly that respectable causes with high-minded goals should be supported by public eagerness to obtain the cast-off undergarments of rock stars. Even now that she has found out that it is only autographed pictures, T-shirts and doodles from people whose claim to celebrity often has to be explained to the potential bidders, the idea still bothers her.
She realizes that she is out of her mind to say so. It will bring some highly indignant reactions from people who are only trying to help others. First, there will be the genuinely heartrending explanation of how worthy and needy the cause is, and how much suffering is alleviated by the money thus raised. Then, there will be the equally valid description of the demands life makes on the people involved in the organization. That will come laced with the insinuation that asking them to do the old tasks is tantamount to saying that mothers should be home baking instead of out earning a living to feed their children, and that fathers should be curtailing the pitifully small amount of free time that they are able to spend with their children. Finally, there will be the assertion that the celebrity auction has been shown to work, attracting money to good causes in a way that the efforts of real people cannot. To top it off, the undisputed need for such money will be restated.
Miss Manners does not deny any of these assertions. Nor does she stint on her admiration and appreciation of people who work on behalf of others. She just doesn’t totally understand why the fact that these causes are good, and that the efforts made on their behalf are selfless and valuable, precludes a discussion of the methods involved.
This is a problem she has had with worse tactics routinely employed in fundraising drives. There is hardly a worthy cause around that does not instruct its volunteers on how to use humiliation and guilt to bludgeon others to give or increase donations. The person who responds generously may be sure that hardly are the perfunctory thanks out when a notation is made to pressure him or her into feeling obliged to donate more the following year.
Compared to such standard fund-raising methods as snooping into the income and spending habits of potential donors, and sending their colleagues or bosses to put embarrassing pressure on them, Miss Manners admits that offering fan paraphernalia for sale is harmless. Yet something is lost by the admission that the ordinary person’s contribution of ability and hard work is of less value than junk collected from celebrities. People who might have taken pride in doing something for a local organization are instead assigned to write wheedling letters, mixing flattery, suggestions of career benefits and a bit of guilt-inspiring pressure, to strangers outside the community.
“The success of our auction depends on items from noteworthy people such as yourself” is a typical plea.
“Something personal from you would attract the highest bid and provide the greatest resources for our young people.”
“You know so well that every successful person has received help from others.”
“Donations have enabled us to continue our good work along with providing tremendous publicity for generous celebrities.”
“This is a wonderful opportunity to be recognized locally and become involved in a good cause. Your name will appear prominently in our event program, and in our donor acknowledgment materials.”
“CELEBRITIES HAVE SHOWN THEY CARE!”
“Please feel good about the fact that your donation will help to generate funds for the fight against a terrible disease.”
Miss Manners cannot help wondering about those who aren’t eligible to feel good about what they could do because they are not celebrities. They don’t have the time anyway, she is told.
No, nobody does. Miss Manners is far from suggesting that the burdens of parents be increased. One of the advantages of bake sales and car washes is that they harness the energies of teenagers in the service of others. Some auctions do use children as volunteers, but Miss Manners can hardly imagine that the satisfaction they get from begging from celebrities is equivalent to that of producing a genuinely salable article or service.
That brings Miss Manners back to the question of what actually does appeal to people who have discretionary money to spend, and might spend it more freely if they could feel that it went to support a worthy cause. Do they really value the castoffs of entertainment people over a home-baked brownie or a clean car?
DEAR MISS MANNERS – My best friend’s 9-year-old son called last night and asked me to contribute on behalf of his karate club to his local children’s hospital. Caught off guard and feeling extremely awkward—but not wanting his mother to think I was a cheapskate—I said I would contribute $20, after being forced to name a sum. When his mother got on the phone and I attempted to express my dissatisfaction, she laughed it off and said, “He’s quite a little salesman, isn’t he?” We spoke for a few more minutes, and then he implored her to get off the phone so he could call some more of her friends and relatives.
Still offended the next day, I wanted to let her know I was upset so the same scenario wouldn’t happen again. When I told her my feelings, she replied that she felt I would be interested in her son’s events—I am, but certainly not to this extent—and it was improper for him to call me. She said that if I ever had children, I’d better get used to this kind of thing. I said I still wouldn’t donate to something in which I have no real interest. She then started to cry, said she’d rip up my check, that this wasn’t a good time, and hung up. Was I wrong to feel offended? Was I wrong to express my feelings to her?
GENTLE READER – Surely people who feel for the plight of others should not be proud of themselves for deliberately causing embarrassment to their friends. Yet what you experienced is now a standard fund-raising technique. Perfectly good charities will deliberately choose someone—a friend, neighbor, colleague or supervisor—to make the pitch whom the person being approached would be embarrassed to turn down.
Children are considered particularly dexterous workers, much the way old-fashioned burglars used children to get into small spaces and then open the doors for them. Miss Manners strongly believes in teaching children to do charity work—but in a meaningful way, by donating time, money or possessions, not by embarrassing adults.
Now that she’s got that off her chest, Miss Manners is going to turn on you for what you got off yours. To agree to make a donation and then to cancel the deal through the mother does not strike Miss Manners as honorable, either. You owed it to the child to stand by your word.
You needn’t have given that word. Don’t tell Miss Manners that you were “forced.” As long as you were polite to the child, you could have said, “No, thank you, I’m not making a donation” and, if pressed, added firmly, “I’m sorry, dear, but I don’t care to discuss it.” If the mother wants the child trained as a salesman, you would indeed have shown a friendly interest in helping. Learning to accept a rebuff politely is an essential skill for salesmanship.
That schools are in trouble unless the parents are interested in their children’s progress and involved with their schools is something every schoolchild does not know. Schoolchildren are too busy being embarrassed—either because their parents show up at school or because their parents don’t show up at school—to think about it. But everybody else knows it. Fortunate schools draw on valiant parents who not only keep up with what their children are studying and how well they are learning, but chaperone field trips and dances, give classroom talks, pitch in to spruce up the building and cheer the teams and applaud the plays, in addition to attending conferences and meetings, serving on committees and donating and raising money for various school projects.
Less well known is the paradox that schools are also in trouble when the parents are a little too interested in their children’s progress and in running their school. Nobody wants to encourage child neglect, certainly not Miss Manners, so this possibility is rarely mentioned. As a result, there has developed—unchecked—a type of devoted and active parent who puts in a lot of time working on behalf of the child. This is the duty of every good parent, but it also involves working against the school. In reaction to the old alliance whereby the parent and school conspired to civilize the child, this parent is wholly allied with the child. The problem here is not with the devotion but with the direction it is given.
Schools are besieged by angry parents demanding what their children want: less work, higher grades than they have earned and more time off. The best positions on teams and the leads in plays, regardless of their own skills and the quality of the competition. Immunity from rules and suspension of punishments. Praise and honors, without a lot of tiresome quibbling about whether they are deserved. Protection from being treated rudely by other children without having to chafe under behavioral restrictions themselves. These do not strike Miss Manners as useful contributions to a child’s education, although she supposes that depends on what kind of person the parent wants to educate the child to be.
She does notice that whether they work to support the school for their child or the child against the school, parents are doing an enormous amount of work. That’s as it should be, of course, but at the risk of sounding as if she were one of those parents who argues for less schoolwork, Miss Manners believes that there is an easier way: That is for parents to do their homework. Not the children’s, but their own, which is to teach the children manners.
School manners include respecting teachers, accepting responsibility for duties and transgressions, sitting still, giving others a chance to be heard, pretending to believe that competitions are held fairly even when one doesn’t win, and not parking gum under desks. And that’s just for starters. Parents who do this will still have to attend meetings and offer help, and they may still have to investigate complaints from their children and then protest deficiencies and injustices. But they will have given the school an enormous gift of time and money by freeing staff from doing remedial parenting and suffering the consequences of children who have been shielded from becoming civilized.
DEAR MISS MANNERS – From what I see happening in my community, the refusal to do favors without compensation is only going to increase. The public schools and many of the private schools require that community service hours be completed before a student may be graduated. I am involved in one of the community organizations certified by the school system to grant the time. We have not been overwhelmed with volunteers, and once the hours have been completed, the students are not seen again unless we offer a salary. In the surrounding areas without this “volunteer” requirement they are able to staff a similar program with a full volunteer staff.
Interestingly, our community also has an active community service program in place for juvenile offenders in lieu of jail time.
A related development is that service hours are also required for a variety of religious advancements. I was pleased when my child decided to volunteer for an activity involving 80 hours during the summer. Because he will be marking a religious milestone next school year, we checked on the documentation requirements for the service component. I was shocked and saddened to find that they would only let him use a small fraction of this time to meet the “volunteer” service requirements. The activities which are “mandated” for service are to my eye no more worthy or soul enhancing than those which have been freely selected. Now a child who was looking forward to cheerful volunteerism is dreading the enforced hours which will be needed to meet the requirements. Is it any wonder that people do not freely serve?
GENTLE READER – Like you, Miss Manners remembers when voluntary service was something for which people volunteered, rather than were sentenced to do. A lot has happened since then, notably the attitude that it is foolish to work for free. It is not only modern greed that created this, but a long-term general dismissal of the value of volunteer work because it was done by unsalaried women.
Surely the function of a mandatory educational system is to expose the young to ideas, fields, attitudes and information they might not otherwise encounter, or might even take pains to avoid. No doubt many of them do as little as possible for the service requirement and resolve never to return—but isn’t that true of much else they are supposed to be learning?
Reverse psychology is all very well, but Miss Manners doubts that removing the algebra requirement, for example, would inspire otherwise dilatory students with an interest in algebra. She therefore hopes that in spite of your son’s disillusionment, you will stop short of condemning the effort of schools and religious organizations to teach through requirements that one must donate services to the community.
The implementation of this may seem rigid, although Miss Manners can easily imagine why it might be unfeasible for young people to choose their own places of service—the problem of checking out the organization, for example, or the problem in checking out the child’s idea of charity.
Miss Manners suggests you regard this practice charitably because of the worthiness of the idea. She assures you that in the etiquette business, we believe it is better for people to do the right thing because they feel coerced into doing it than to allow them to act only as they sincerely wish, and hope for the best.