Civility ... or how not to get shot in Virginia.
I've griped about living in the Old Dominion enough for people to know it's got problems. The taxes are higher than back home, you can't go two weeks without putting a new sticker on your car, and the roads make Rock Batter look like I-40 in Seveir County.
But there's one thing I do love about living in Virginia.
Civility.
There's still an air of the gentility from the past. Manners still matter. After we moved here, I often wondered why my Southern mannerisms just seemed to fall on deaf ears here, whereas in Tennessee they were greeted with surprise and a smile.
It turns out the reason was simple: it's expected here. For most parts of this state, the difference between a gentleman and someone lesser is not his bank account, his appearance, his car or his clothes. It is how he treats other in polite society.
"Thank you, ma'am," is expected at the drive thru. If you don't, then you're probably just a Yankee. Treat those at the drive-thru the same as you treat a member of the House of Delegates, and you'll go far here. Looks a lot like the Golden Rule, don't it?
Since I've been here, I've had a lot of time to reflect on just what it means to be a member of polite society. I've come to one overriding conclusion — words matter. What we say to people, how we say it and the spirit in which we say it can have a huge impact on people. A thoughtless word can have an impact that we'd never imagine, just as one loud shout in the mountains might start an avalanche that could bury someone else.
I am more convinced than ever that every one of us has a duty to think about what we say, and how we say it. If I can impart anything to Gracie about how to care for those she loves, it will be to always be judicious in what she says to them.
No need to bring a cannon when a fly swatter will do. And when you do need a cannon, get a small one, and be discreet about it.
If you don't, then you're probably just being a Yankee.
But there's one thing I do love about living in Virginia.
Civility.
There's still an air of the gentility from the past. Manners still matter. After we moved here, I often wondered why my Southern mannerisms just seemed to fall on deaf ears here, whereas in Tennessee they were greeted with surprise and a smile.
It turns out the reason was simple: it's expected here. For most parts of this state, the difference between a gentleman and someone lesser is not his bank account, his appearance, his car or his clothes. It is how he treats other in polite society.
"Thank you, ma'am," is expected at the drive thru. If you don't, then you're probably just a Yankee. Treat those at the drive-thru the same as you treat a member of the House of Delegates, and you'll go far here. Looks a lot like the Golden Rule, don't it?
Since I've been here, I've had a lot of time to reflect on just what it means to be a member of polite society. I've come to one overriding conclusion — words matter. What we say to people, how we say it and the spirit in which we say it can have a huge impact on people. A thoughtless word can have an impact that we'd never imagine, just as one loud shout in the mountains might start an avalanche that could bury someone else.
I am more convinced than ever that every one of us has a duty to think about what we say, and how we say it. If I can impart anything to Gracie about how to care for those she loves, it will be to always be judicious in what she says to them.
No need to bring a cannon when a fly swatter will do. And when you do need a cannon, get a small one, and be discreet about it.
If you don't, then you're probably just being a Yankee.
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