Even though the clock showed 11:10 and the bread had just been passed, it felt like high noon in the foyer.
There I was, in very high heels, a long (Grecian-inspired) dress, a fifty pound bag at one hip and a twenty-five pound toddler on the other. Three young adult men sat on one couch, a young adult girl in a chair opposite, and a middle-aged man, who really should have known better, occupied the last chair.
I shifted my bag pointedly, waiting for someone, anyone, to take a little pity and offer me a place to sit. My four year old decided resistance was futile and crumpled at my feet. I moved close to the couch thinking that at any moment one of those boys would get a clue and stand up. Nope. Dandling the baby nearly turned into dangling the baby. Zilch.
I could see a family walking up the path to the foyer door: a mom with four little ones and a dad who held the door open for the flock. They stood in the middle of the room and wordlessly communicated with each other–should they go in, try the cultural hall, or walk to the other side? Oh that’s it, I thought and turned to the boys on the couch.
“Hey, you, it’s time for you to give up your chairs for the mother and her children,” I said in a moderately loud voice and motioned with my head to the mom in the middle of the foyer.
“Oh!” said the boys, practically in unison, and stood up against the windows. “Thank you,” said the mom. Almost immediately, the girl in the chair said to me, “Would you like my chair?”
“Oh, no thank you,” I smiled, knowing we were moments away from joining the rest of the congregation in the pews.
Nothing out of middle aged man in the chair, by the way. I’m hoping that he was deaf and blind. Poor man, that must be the explanation. Maybe he was injured in a tragic frolfing accident and was rendered lame.
Yes, that must have been it.
Rock on sistah-friend! You teach those boys some manners!
I’ve had the same experience! Why is it easier to ask for someone else than ourselves? In my case this poor woman was pregnant and obviously in discomfort (the closed eyes while she clung to the wall and clutched her tummy was my first clue!)
Your last post and this one both have to do with a lack of consideration shown to mothers in church. We’ve all been there no doubt. Whenever I am feeling that way I try to remember that I chose this life, and while I would appreciate some accommodation, it is certainly not an entitlement. I don’t want to burden myself further by taking insult.
You fix up those boys in your ward, honey. You fix them up good.
Hhhhmmmm……
It takes a village to raise these kids right! I’m sure if their mother’s were there, they would have hastened the boys to their feet (let’s hope…) Next time they will certainly remember (let’s hope…)
Once on the subway in NYC an elderly pair of ladies boarded. My husband and I jumped to our feet to offer them our seats. As they left they took our hands with tears in their eyes and thanked us. (If you’ve ever been on a NYC subway, you know we were the only ones moving…)
Little considerations matter. They are important.
I regularly make it a point to make boys and men offer up their seats to women who are standing. Even if they don’t have kids with them. Or very high heels.
Shame on that man.
That’s the thing, they weren’t boys from our ward! They were at the ward as their friend was giving his pre-mission-don’t-call-it-a-farewell talk. If they were boys from our ward I would have had no problem asking one, by name, to move immediately. Part of me wondered just how long it would take for someone to move.
Good point, Mela, I didn’t see it that way. You’d think that I had thought of this as some sort of theme, but I didn’t. These two posts were just two things that happened recently. However, last Sunday’s incident in the foyer reminded me that I have two boys. I need to add giving up your seat for someone else to the very long list of Things I Must Remember to Teach My Boys So That They Are Right-Thinking.
Well, I’m all for speaking up, especially for oneself or other women, but, dude, the high heels? Ain’t feeling no pity there. And to imagine that teenage boys should be jumping up to give you a seat because you were crazed enough to wear high heels to church (can we say difficult to teach sharing time?) is a bit odd.
But maybe I am merely(!) jealous because of severe high heelophobia crossed with legatational challenge.
I’m really trying to teach my nine-year-old to be a gentleman. When I remind him to open doors for women, give up seats for women, he gets all equal rights on me, and says, “Ah moooom! It’s not fair! The boys don’t get anything!!!!” I try to explain about how in history, girls didn’t have any rights, were pretty much property, etc., etc. Still nothing. So, now I’ve switched tactics and am trying to teach him to be gentlemanly to EVERYONE (not a bad idea, at that).It’s just basic consideration, right? He still gets miffed when he opens a door for someone and they don’t pause to say “thank you.” (That happens more often than you’d believe.) I’m all for forward-thinking and advancement, but forgetting to be polite is NOT a great by-product of modern life.
Teen-aged kids need a reminder now and then. And they look at you funny if you’re too nice about it. They’ve generally lost the taste for syrupy primary voices (if they ever had one).
Or when there are 3 doors to the building and they only decide one needs to be unlocked So you end up trying all three before finding the one that is unlocked - only to discover there’s a whole foyer of people just standing there watching you do it with your hands full and two little girls. Hmm… and I wonder why I love my ward.
Well, in my small defense, I wear heels all the time. If I wear flats I feel like I am tipping backwards, it’s entirely disconcerting. It wasn’t the heels that did me in, it was the baby, the preschooler, and the heavy bag. Even I know the get-off-your-bum hierarchy: pregnant women, women with young baby, then older baby, then a child of whatever age. Is there a more integrated hierarchy that involves senior citz?
I’ve also had a newborn and gave up my seat to a pregnant woman when another middle-aged man wouldn’t.
The funniest thing is that I still consider myself a feminist: I don’t ever expect a man to give up a seat for me just because I’m a standing woman. However, there’s something about wrangling a child that seems to dictate that the singular and able-bodied rise to the occasion, if only for the sake of common decency.
I’m not trying to defend the boys but just add another perspective. The whole “I don’t need a man” mentality of many women could play a role in many young men’s attitudes about being a gentleman and what that means. I remember standing totally dumbfounded in the doorway on a college campus and watched as a guy held the door open for a girl behind him. She wasn’t carrying anything. He was just being polite and the girl shoots back with “What!? You don’t think I can get it myself?” He might think twice next time about holding the door for someone (or offering up his chair in the foyer). I agree with Jadie that it’s not just about being a gentleman or acting like a lady but being kind and polite no matter what your sex.
Bravo!
I wasn’t bold enough to ask for a seat at the airport, so I ended up sitting on the linoleum to feed my baby. I tried really hard to not think spiteful thoughts about people! The man who went to the bathroom for papertowels to wipe up the massive puddle of spit up renewed my faith.
Sad. This just speaks to the lack of respect of people everywhere towards others. Respect is just not taught anymore and it makes me very sad.
Don’t even get me started on what goes on in schools…
Great post Carina.
I have to add it’s not just teenagers or boys. Ever since the parade on the 4th of July I have witnessed a number of incidents in which while I at first thought people–an old man, college kids, a middle-aged woman (to name a few)–were just being egregiously rude. In each case I realized they weren’t being deliberately rude, but that they were completely oblivious to the people around them. I’ve seen people even walk right in front of cars because they were so unaware of their surroundings.
One day it even happened to me. I inadvertently walked around an elderly man in the grocery store because there was plenty of room and he was moving e x t r e m e l y s l o w l y. After I passed him I realized I had momentarily moved in between him and his wife (or girlfriend–one never knows) and, in turtle-speed, sort of cut him off. Even though my misstep was not huge and at his speed they had plenty of room and time to join one another, of course I apologized (because I’m nice like that). But then–despite my apology, which perhaps they didn’t hear–they both became rude to me. I could hear every word, “Can you believe that? Young people these days. They have no respect!” etc.
*sigh*
Here’s the thing. In Utah we see so many mothers with small children, esp in church that I think a lot of us just don’t pay much attention. (unfortunately myself included). When I had the princess I remember complaining about how invisible I had suddenly become. Whenever I would travel out of state with her, I had people falling over me willing to help.
Thanks for helping me to remember to open my eyes once in a while.
I’ve had this happen when I was wrangling a kicking toddler who’d just had to be removed from Sacrament Meeting — all seats were occupied by able-bodied youth, and none thought to offer me one. I just singled one out and asked, “Could I please have that chair?” and it was promptly given to me. There have been other times when my need wasn’t so great and I just stood (but had thoughts about how nice it would be if I could sit down with my baby on my lap instead of carrying babe in arms.) And there’s been at least once that a seat was spontaneously offered to me (hope for mankind!)
I need to remember to teach this to my sons (my 11-year-old is great at holding doors for me, but I often do tell him to rather than expecting him to remember on his own; not sure I’ve taught him about giving up seats) — and the principle/reason/explanation that I’ll be quite comfortable giving is that it’s a man’s role to provide for and protect his family, and opening doors and offering up seats is one outward manifestation that reminds us all of that role and relationship.
Can I one-up-you, just for fun?
I was in a branch in the hinterlands that had no mother’s lounge so we used the nursery to nurse during Sacrament meeting if need be. So I walked in there with newborn to find several YM and an adult man evading Sacrament. Well, I had to nurse, but they were there and using all the normal sized chairs and just stared at me. I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask them to leave so that I could whip my breasts out, so after giving them a minute or two to “get it” I went out to my car and nursed my daughter there in winter upstate NY. Brrrrr.
I wish I could turn back time and tell them to get back in the chapel where they belonged.
Last week the kids and I had a layover in Dallas where we had to take the train between terminals. So it’s me, wearing three backpacks, pushing a stroller with a sleeping toddler. Two big kids following behind, and following way, way behind, my gimpy-legged three-year-old who insisted on walking through the airport, even though he limps like a peg-legged pirate and moves at a snail’s pace. A bunch of people are waiting on the platform when we pull up, and they’re all staring at me, a modern, female Pied Piper. When the train pulls up, they all file into before me (I’m still rounding up kids) and take all of the seats. The limping preschooler climbs into my arms, and I’m holding on to the stroller and have no free hands to hold the handle bars. The train starts to move, I lurch to the side, and the stroller slides all over the train car. The big kids are hysterical– this is more fun than the river rafting trip, the Heber Creeper and the ski lift at Sundance. The commuters on their cell phones (the ones sitting in all of the seats) have the audacity to be shooting me dirty looks.
Oh, Shelah!
The instant I got a dirty look I probably would have opened my big mouth and said, “WHAT? What was that look? Oh, do you feel guilty for not offering a mother and her baby a seat? ‘Cause that’s what I thought you meant.”
What can I say? I struggle with that whole don’t meet rudeness with rudeness thing. Miss Manners I am not.
Shelah, wow. I love Carina’s answer to the rudeness there.
I hope I never forget to give some consideration to moms with babies when I’m out of this stage.
Our ward starts at 1:30 pm, so I am never in the foy-yay, because I can actually make it on time this year. (Next year, at 8:30 I expect to take the sacrament exactly once.) Even if I were late, though, the people on the couch would never hear me ask them to move their bodies because they from the ward that just got out and are so loud that we can hear them in the quiet of the chapel.
yargh. I used to take the train downtown to work and on NUMEROUS occasions, I was the one standing up to give the little old lady or the pregnant woman a seat whilst the hundreds of businessmen stood by and watched. SO annoying.
I wonder if this is something that is going the way of opening doors for others, extending a hand to shake when we meet someone and taking off hats indoors…. do people think it is old fashioned?
I always try to remember to give up a seat or open a door for others…but I am very much included in the oblivious zone…
Nursing babies trump teenagers any day…
I remember my sister saying something about the YM/YW hanging out in the Mother’s room, and my sister’s friend had to nurse her baby on a toilet in the bathroom. I think it was at that point my sister talked to the Bishop about it…
Sometimes kids just forget. Don’t get all high and mighty about “teaching the kids some manners”. Thank you for asking for a seat, but don’t treat the kids like they were idiots. Lots of people still have to learn different things about chivalry and courtesy. Give them time to learn rather then make them resent you.
Good point, Rich. I was thinking more along the lines of making sure I’m teaching my own children manners. That’s where it starts, with me.
I don’t fault teenagers entirely, although the young adults in my story no longer really qualified as teenagers, I’m continually surprised at the adults who have forgotten their manners. Like the people that Hannah or Shelah were talking about; they really should know better.
While I agree that rudeness and self-centeredness are out of control, I think it might help to have come compassion and thought towards the people who do not give up their seats.
I am youngish, but I have a back injury. Standing on the bus/train is unbearable for me, yet I look completely healthy. I would still give up my seat to an elderly person if no one else would, but I probably would not just because a person has a child. Having a child is a choice, and I should not be punished (with the pain of standing and dealing with the jerky movement) due to the choice of someone else.
Sometimes I feel like mothers feel like they are above everyone else. I don’t disagree that being a mother is a VERY important job and role, but does that means your rights and desires trump others? Someone here mentioned a kicking toddler. So someone should give up their seat for your misbehaving child? I just can’t relate to that at all.
Rich said, “Give them time to learn rather then make them resent you.”
Informing children (a category that includes teenagers) that they have a social responsibility in the kind of low-impact situation described in the original post is helping them learn and if they resent a kind word such as this, they need to get over it fast. There was nothing “high and mighty” involved and the sooner people can realize that their actions affect other people, the better. Way to go, original poster (Carina?) and other women helping maintain a civil and compassionate society.
I have been in the same situation and have felt the same way, but we have to remember that teenagers, especially teenage boys are pretty clueless and self-centred (and I don’t mean that in a bad way). I’m sure they didn’t mean to be deliberately rude and had they even really thought about the fact that you were standing there lugging a child and a bag, they would have offered you a seat, as evidenced by the fact that they were happy to move when asked. As for the middle-aged man, I have no defense.
Tia — I was the one with the kicking toddler — a toddler who had been removed from Sacrament Meeting out of courtesy for those in the meeting. Usually I will head straight for an empty classroom where I can sit in a chair with said child restrained on my lap, until the child is ready to be returned to the meeting. (I will take the mother’s lounge if it’s available, so I can still hear the meeting, but if it’s needed by a nursing mother I’ll vacate immediately.) However, if the kicking is happening during the actual Sacrament, then I will stay in the foyer long enough to get to participate in that ordinance (which was my primary reason for coming to church in the first place.) My kicking toddler is very visible and it is easier for me to manage/control the child — and I am less likely to sustain a serious back injury myself while doing so — if I can do so while seated (while seated I only run the risk of scratched arms and face, and bruised shins.) Your back injury is invisible, and the only way I could know about it is if, when I politely asked if I could have your seat, you politely responded that it would be physically difficult for you to stand — in which case I would ask someone more able-bodied to give me their seat.
Mothers and fathers are providing society the valuable service of allowing humankind to perpetuate itself, and traditionally society has showed its appreciation for this service by showing particular courtesy towards mothers. I for one would like to see this etiquette perpetuated (or revived) for both symbolic and practical reasons — because, as is so vividly illustrated by Shelah’s experience on the train, in *most* cases that don’t involve unseen injuries or disabilities on the part of the seated, it’s much more difficult for a mother with young kids to do without a seat, or open a door, etc., than it is for a healthy, childless young person.
Interesting discussion. There have been a few times when I’ve been struggling with a child and momentarily wished somebody would offer me a seat. However, I don’t think I’ve ever had the expectation that another person “should” offer me their seat just because I’m a mother. I don’t feel that having a child in my arms automatically entitles me to someone else’s seat when they were there first, and I don’t think of someone else as impolite if they don’t offer me a seat. I might think to myself “Oh, I wish there were a seat available”, but that would be about the extent of it.
This is just not something that has ever bothered me.
boarding last and trying to get to my seat in the very last row on the plane. eight months pregnant. carrying a 16 month old. and a diaper bag. and did i mention that i was awkwardly holding the toddler’s bulky carseat kind of over my head and over my shoulder? not a SINGLE person offered to help me. some just stared, but most made it very clear that they were purposefully avoiding eye contact.
my mom and i were leaving a store a few years ago, arms full of kids and packages. two handsome and very well-dressed men entered the doors we were attempting to exit, cutting off our path. we paused while they came through the doors and kind of half assumed they’d hold them for us and half assumed we’d make it through the doors in time. nope. the doors slammed closed on us as the men blew right past us. through the glass doors, a very tired looking, bedraggled, and obviously homeless man sitting outside saw what happened and literally ran to the doors to hold them open for us. it was an interesting little study we experienced that afternoon.
I’m just going to assume–though there are many lovely and wonderful people in Utah–that this happened in a Utah ward?