I just celebrated a birthday. I don't feel any older, really. I just know I am older I guess. On my actual birthday, one of my college friends sent me a note that made me laugh out loud: "Get out there and yell at those kids to get off your lawn!"
I don't think of myself as a grump. Sure, we all have grumpy days. Some of us more then others it would seem. In the past 36 hours I have shared my unsolicited outrage about things I think are wrong with people I've never met before. The first time was yesterday (and I'll try to be appropriately vague here) when I took my 5th and 6th graders on a chorus field trip. The kids had a great day; they sang like angels, behaved exceptionally well, made me proud, and had a good time. On the way home, one of the bus drivers went ballistic on a 5th grader when there were adults on the bus who could have handled the situation. He went so far as to pull the bus over, get out of his seat, and use physical intimidation scare tactics. On a 5th grade girl. As soon as he hopped out of his seat, I was hot on his heels. I've dealt with this guy before. I should have been pre-emptive, and blocked his way. (Hind-sight is always 20/20!) I am very protective of my kiddos. I should have asked what the problem was, and asked nicely if I could handle the situation for him. But he is a kid hater. You know the type. They work in school districts everywhere, and are mean-spirited, kid-hating adults. You gotta wonder what horrible thing happened to them when they were kids to make them turn out this way. Like an abused dog, that will never show affection to people. And you gotta wonder why on earth they are doing a job they obviously hate. Or maybe not. This guy is an unpleasant, twisted piece of work. Anyway, I sat right behind this guy as the bus started back up and fumed for a minute while the little girl sat next to me and cried. After a few minutes, she and I struck up a friendly conversation, and I think that by the time we got back to school, she was okay. But not I. As soon as school was over, I marched over to the transportation department, along with a colleague who accompanied us on the trip, to express my outrage. It is not okay for any employee of a school district to speak to children that way. I "requested" not to have him drive my students ever again... (This is the highly abridged version of all that was said.) Frankly, I surprised myself. It was as if my Mama Bear instinct went into over-drive yesterday. Isn't there some expression about getting older and being less able to "suffer fools?" Here it is...I looked it up. Written by George Bernard Shaw, from Pygmalion:
"He was, I believe, not in the least an ill-natured man: very much the opposite, I should say; but he would not suffer fools gladly." With each year that passes, I am less and less tolerant. I don't suffer gladly.
Perhaps it was the time I spent in Japan, where politeness is deeply rooted in everyday social interactions and culture. I miss that aspect of living there. At first, it terrified me. I spent the first 6 months living in fear of creating an international incident precipitated by my own clueless ugly American faux paux. But now I could use a healthy dose of meticulous customer service, polite store clerks, cell phone manners, and people being aware of how they come across to the world. To paraphrase an email from my school in-box this week, "Courtesy and professionalism go a long way."
Then today, a friend asked me to place posters around town to publicize our upcoming HS musical production, Snoopy. I was happy to help her out, since I haven't really done much in the way of contributing to the parent help. (I had my own show to direct, and am still in recovery mode.) Anyway, I went all over town and chatted with local business owners who ALL happily allowed me to put posters in their establishments. It was really heartwarming. I had several "I love my small town!" warm, fuzzy moments during the hour I walked up and down main street. Then I got in my car and drove to the Byrne Dairy (our only local 24-hour convenient store). I went in and asked if it would be possible to put a poster up in their store. The girl behind the counter got the manager, who I asked again asked. She said she would have to "call corporate." She came back to me and told me nicely that it was against corporate policy.
Tomorrow's News Headline:
"Mild-mannered local Peanuts Supporter rants and raves against Corporate America, drawing a crowd in convenient store."
I don't know why, but I just snapped. Maybe it was the lighting, or the smell of fry-cooker oil, I don't know. Words just came spilling out. I was disgusted and told them so...I reminded them that their very presence in town was hard-won, that the least they could do was show some community support by supporting the local kids, the school, THE ARTS for Pete's sake, and that I though it was wrong for them to be profiting off the community, in the community, but not being of the community, and corporate was missing an opportunity to mend fences, act in good faith by allowing me to put up my HS Drama poster, and please pass this message along to corporate, cause they need to hear it, thank you very much. By this time, all the employees were gathered around in a clump, right behind the counter looking at me, the crazed woman, clutching my Snoopy Poster right in front of me, so they sure as hell could read it. One of the young guys spoke up, and said, "I agree with you."
As I backed toward the door past the rows of junk food, soda, cakes, puddings, pasta salad and cheese, I asked again that they give my message to corporate. Driving away, I shuddered. I swore to never give them my business. Now I know why so many people were opposed to allowing Byrne Dairy into our community in the fist place. It's a soulless, greedy business that contributes to disease and obesity of America, and I suspect makes its profits off the poorest of our folks. The employees who work there probably do so because they have no other option. No higher education. I wonder if they get benefits? What a juxtaposition, to be in the local shops today, chatting with the friendly owners and workers, people who care about this community, who support our kids, our schools and our programs, and then to go into a chain convenient store.
I'm conflicted now. I want to get along with people. I want to be a nice girl. But I've recently discovered that I sometimes enjoy letting people have it. Doesn't everyone? It's righteous indignation! Just gotta stop before I'm a cranky old crackpot.
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