Response to "Painful questions," part II
More on last Thursday's question ...
I'd posted that question when I did because I felt it was such a great example of the distinction between rude and hurtful that I made here. I hope you'll read the whole post, but here's the major distinction I'm drawing in it:
Obviously, there is a correlation between hurtful and rude; the rules of polite behavior represent an attempt to cut out that which would be hurtful to most people most of the time. But everyone has their own idiosyncratic vulnerabilities and can be hurt by behaviors entirely within the bounds of etiquette. And everyone, too, has particular areas of great tolerance for particular sorts of rude behaviors ... We all have a different set of buttons, and some of them are on a hair trigger and some are missing entirely.This distinction is something, I realize, that I've struggled to articulate in my columns. I sometimes get letters from people who are hurt by behaviors that are not rude. Often, the LWs (letter-writers) want me to condemn the people who are behaving in a hurtful way. But I can't do that, because those people are not actually doing something wrong. I can acknowledge the hurt, that's for sure. Even when I think someone is really off base, they still have a right to their feelings. And if the relationship is a close one, I can suggest ways of talking about the bothersome behavior. We have the right to expect our friends and family to honor our quirks, within reason. But we'll have a better chance of getting them to do so if we realize that this is what we are asking–their indulgence for our quirks. We aren't scolding them for not adhering to the rules of etiquette if they, in fact, are.
...
And it's absolutely vital to sanity to realize that when you step out of your circle of loved ones, you no longer have the right to that kind of customized treatment. People will say things that are hurtful to you, and if those things are within the common bounds of civility we've defined as a society, you cowboy up and answer them politely.
I made it sound, in that post, as though there were a clear line between the hurtful and the rude, but there is, naturally, a huge grey area, and I think last Thursday's question probes at it. Personally, I find the comments that the LW has a hard time with to be in the hurtful-but-not-rude category. The weekend comment, as I noted earlier, is wholly innocuous--and, at any rate, unavoidable. Working mothers are about the most time- and solitude-starved lot there are, and if you have every other weekend to yourself, they will envy you loudly for it.
The "response/complaint they make about their own lives when, for instance, their husband is traveling and they are left to fend for themselves"--that, I think, depends. Is it a spontaneous complaint--"Oy, my husband is gone for a week and it's driving me crazy!"? Remarking on our own problems, even to a friend who has larger ones, is usually okay unless you are being really egregious. (Don't complain about your shoes to someone who has no feet.) The laid-off don't want to hear prolonged tales of office politics, and the infertile don't want to hear you go on endlessly about the trials of the terrible twos, obviously. But within reason, we can all make the offhand whinge without stopping every time to calculate the precise misery index of those around us. An actual attempt at comparison between a friend's serious pain and your own more minor problem is, on the other hand, pretty horrible. "Oh, I know what it's like for you having your wife stationed in Iraq, mine's started working Saturdays and we hardly ever see each other." Not so much, really. I'd put that one into the straight-up "rude" category without too much agonizing.
What we consider rude—i.e., the things about which decide, "No, this is an out of bounds comment/question for civilized people to make"—versus hurtful—i.e., the things about which we say, "It is unfortunate that so-and-so was hurt; perhaps his friends will learn to avoid talking to him about X"—is a highly politicized topic. We all know, for example, that "I'm sorry you were offended" translates to "What I said may have been hurtful, but it wasn't rude. Therefore you got hurt because of your sensitivities, not my insensitivities." Many progressives and liberals, for example, are attempting to define as rude—universally unacceptable—the kinds of language conservatives would prefer to define as merely hurtful. You can check out these discussions of the word retarded and the appropriateness of giving unsolicited advice to sick people to get a sense of the issues. Ta-Nehisi Coates explicitly links courtesy to politics here.
Finally, I just have to lift up this one final comment:
Something happened one day that put everything in perspective. After a horrible morning meeting my ex at the soccer field and having him create a scene, and having both kids running to me in tears, telling me they didn't want to go with him for that weekend, I had to leave the field and couldn't watch their game. I went over to a friend's house, crying and shaking. Her neighbor was there having coffee. I sat down at the table with mascara streaks running down my cheeks and ranting like a maniac, when the friend (who I hardly knew) looked at me and said...you're so lucky!!!! I had to turn around to see who she was talking to, but it was me. She went on to say that even though it was tough now, I was lucky to have had the strength to leave him. She was stuck in a horrible marriage and didn't have the money, guts or wherewithall to leave. She was JEALOUS OF ME!!!! So, the point I'm trying to make is while we ALL have our troubles, nobody can know what it feels like until we go through it, and even then, it's different for us all. Keep a positive attitude, this too shall pass.
Amazing.
Who is Miss Conduct?
Robin Abrahams writes the weekly "Miss Conduct" column for The Boston Globe Magazine. Robin, who has a PhD in psychology from Boston University, has worked as a theater publicist, organizational-change communications manager, editor, stand-up comedian, and professor of psychology and English. She lives in Cambridge with her husband, Marc Abrahams, founder of the Ig Nobel Prizes, which are given annually for achievements that first make people laugh and then make them think.





