By Vincent L. Hall
“Manners is the key thing. Say, for instance, when you’re growing up, you’re walking down the street, you’ve got to tell everybody good morning. Everybody. You can’t pass one person.” Usain Bolt, Jamaican Track and Field Champion
I thank my mother and family daily for making and molding me into the gentleman I am known to be. They took the time to teach, reach, and beat me until I understood that chivalry and common courtesy are the most essential tools in any Black man’s arsenal. A genteel demeanor opens doors at home, at work, and “with them broads,” as my daddy would say!
There is no accounting of how many elevators I’ve missed because there were women present who were allowed to board before me. It is difficult for me to walk past anyone, anywhere, without gaining eye contact and offering my salutations.
Grandmother Hall said, “If you didn’t sleep with them, speak to them!” That means I gotta speak to err’body!
Both of my grandmothers were sticklers for charm and civility and developed some rigor in us that isn’t widespread in America anymore. Whistling in the house was forbidden. I don’t know why, but we couldn’t. We could not use the words, hate, stupid or fool. That’ll get you kilt! As young men, if we were standing, facing a woman who was sitting, we had to ensure that she was not staring into our crotch. That sounds extreme, but you would be surprised to know how often that law is violated and found offensive. It’s the equivalent of staring into a tight-fitting sweater rather than those pretty eyes.
Flatulence or noise signaling the same was a prosecutable offense, punishable by lashes, belts, tongue, or both. These stringent idiosyncrasies and rules made us ready for prime time.
I will never forget when I sat down to my first political banquet, where I met the vice-presidential candidate, Geraldine Ferraro. I was dressed like the King of Scotland, poised and perfect at every turn.
When the first course was served, a panic overtook me like a virus. I had forgotten whether to assume the utensils on my left or right. Just then, my grandmother, Portia Maudesta English Figures, caught the collar of my conscious mind.
Grandmother Figures’ 30-year-old words had resonance and reason. All I could remember her saying was, “Boy when you don’t know what to do, don’t do nothing until you see someone who knows what they are doing make a move.”
It worked.
Grandmother Figures was the most proper and saintly woman I’ve ever known. She could advise Ann Landers on how to run a charm school. She would remind me of that scripture found in the Proverbs. “When thou sit- test to eat with a ruler, consider diligently what is before thee.”
As a result, I am never out-classed or feel deficient. They just got mo’ money than me!
My paternal grandfather, always irascible and ready to fight, made his points to me through an inverse perspective. Ed Hall said, “It’s nice to be nice, but when you can’t, kick ’em in the ass.”
Which meant…be a gentleman for as long as it’s feasible, but don’t be nobody’s fool. They all taught me that facing stereotypes and misperceptions through the eyes of racists is inevitable and commonplace. Some will see you as an ogre until you prove otherwise. However, if you manage yourself politely and politically, you will earn a proper portion of dignity and respect.
Like most “middle-class” Black folks of my era, my parents and grandparents insisted that we were man-nerable to a fault. We were trained to be good enough to please God almighty to get into heaven and twice better than our White peers to succeed in work or business.
My whole life has been saturated with reminders of being respectful, thoughtful, and empathetic. It has taken me to places and spaces that were far above my pay grade and birthright. Usain Bolt’s quote was like a blast from the past. We can’t afford to let our children run past (pun intended) the precepts that served us so well. It’s time that we get back to the basics.
Teach them some manners!
Vincent L. Hall is an author, activist, and an award-winning columnist.
