Be nice to bellhops

We all believe in equality as long as it is equality with our superiors.

I’ll never forget being on a business trip years ago with a colleague and watching in horror as she—in her gray, beautifully tailored designer suit and heels—literally stamped her foot like a terrible, small child and screamed at a bellhop because he was taking too long to bring her bag. For a moment, I believe she might have levitated as she shrieked “do you know who I am?” (I feel fairly certain he would’ve loved to have answered that question aloud). She degraded him mercilessly in front of a crowd of people, dehumanizing him, using language I know she would never use with a member of the Board – until I somehow diverted her attention (“Look! A chicken!”). I wanted to crawl in a hole; I should have called her on it, but I didn’t. It changed my perception of her forever.

In that instant, I realized that how we treat fellow humans who are waiters and waitresses, flight attendants, janitors, receptionists, kids, elderly, beggars, fast food clerks,and bellhops—is in some important way a measure of our character. Or at least it is for me a harbinger of how people move around in the world, how they see and engage with others and – most importantly – how they see themselves.

Maybe I care so much about this because my father was a barber, serving other people and sweeping up their hair all those years, or maybe it’s just the realization that we humans have made up all these degrees and titles and levels and hierarchies and incomes we think are so important and all-defining. Somewhere, we seem to have lost sight of treating people as human beings, even (and perhaps especially) if they’ve misplaced our luggage momentarily. 

Sara Lawrence Lightfoot, the Emily Hargroves Fisher Professor of Education at  Harvard University, once gave a speech about respect entitled, “Will Anybody Know Who I Am?” In it, she remembered her father:

"I believe that respect is the single most important ingredient in creating authentic relationships and in building healthy communities. I remember feeling the power and majesty of respect—and the deep connections between respect and justice—at an unforgettable moment of grace. It was April of 1986, at the burial and requiem for my father Charles Radford Lawrence II. My brother Chuck was giving the eulogy, his intimate and loving view of a very public man. Chuck’s voice cracked as he recalled one of our father Charles’ loveliest qualities: "Our father Charles had a natural air of authority about him. He commanded respect without ever asking for it. In high school, my rowdiest friends—the guys who stole hubcaps and crashed parties—were perfect gentlemen in my father’s presence. They’d stand and say ‘yes, sir, Dr. Lawrence,’ and answer his many questions about school and home and where their parents and grandparents were from. It was much later that I realized Dad’s secret. He gained respect by giving it. He talked and listened to the fourth grade kid in Spring Valley who shined shoes the same way he talked and listened to a Bishop or college president. He was seriously interested in whom you were and what you had to say. And although he had the intellectual and physical tools to out-muscle a smaller person or mind, he never bullied. He gained your allegiance by offering you his strength, not by threatening to overpower you."

"In my brother’s words I heard the recovery of rich meanings of respect. Through my tears, I heard the lovely symmetry and reciprocity, not the static
hierarchy. I heard the tender transfer of authority, not the power plays. I heard the deep curiosity—the need to know, the urge to understand—not the arrogance of knowing enough or knowing it all. And I heard the beauty in the ordinary, daily gestures, not the drama and glory of great, public moments. I am sure that my brother’s words of gratitude and loving farewell, have burned their way into my heart, fueled my interest in respect, and shape the way I understand and interpret its meanings.”

 After her father’s death, Lawrence-Lightfoot continued to investigate the concept of respect, culminating in her moving book, Respect: An Exploration (Perseus 2000). I urge you to read it.

So much of life seems to play out around the concept of power—ours, our lack of it, our use of whatever power we think we have over others we feel we are “better” than. Why are we so willing to believe in power?

~*~ 37 Days: Do it Now Challenge ~*~

What are the names of the people who clean your office, apartment building, favorite restaurant, or child’s school? The people who serve us are people first. If you don’t know, find out this week and say hello to them, call them by name, thank them for the work they do, ask about their families. If you’re traveling this week, treat the gate agents, flight attendants and bellboys as you would your friends. Also, take a few moments to simply watch how others treat them. Are you giving respect to all those around you? Or using some small piece of power needlessly?

"When you are kind to others, it not only changes you, it changes the world."
—Harold Kushner

"Kindness is in our power, even when fondness is not."
—Samuel Johnson