Manners

How can children learn manners if they are not told how to behave at table, or how to act when meeting people? I agree that manners are not natural. Therefore, should they not be taught?

The question is really: Should we teach our children etiquette?

I recall the first time I encountered a finger-bowl at a posh dinner party. One man drank from his: I was wary enough to watch what others did.

It is good to know which table tools to use; but of course, etiquette differs in each country. In Britain, no gen­tleman will drink if he has any food in his mouth; but on the Continent, this social rule does not obtain. I once commit­ted a gaffe by seating myself on the sofa in a German house; later, I was told that in a German home the sofa was always reserved for important guests.

Doffing my hat to a woman is a gesture which covers up the fact that in our patriarchal civilization a woman is held to be inferior. Our special manners toward women show a compensation for that belief.

Yes, it is best to know your etiquette in our conven­tional world. But manners are a different story. Good man­ners mean thinking of others. Manners cannot be taught. In my school, we do not teach etiquette; if a child licks his plate, no one cares-indeed, no one notices. We never groom a child to say Thank You or Good Morning. But when a boy mocked a new lad who was lame, the other children called a special meeting and the offender was told by the community, and in no uncertain terms, that the school did not relish bad manners.

A free child develops natural manners; as he grows older, he is wise enough to pick up the surface politeness that had best be termed etiquette.

If a child is not polite in the ordinary sense, he will un­doubtedly offend certain people. Won’t their rejection of him or displeasure prove damaging to the child?

What is politeness? It is thinking of others and their feelings. Young children are primarily interested in them­selves; the adult egoist is the man who has never grown up.

A disciplined child is polite to adults if he is afraid of them; a free child acquires a natural politeness without sac­rificing his sincerity. If a child is always discourteous it is because he has been reared wrongly, has developed resent­ment against grown-ups. Think of the bad effect on a child who is told “Kiss Grandmother”; or of the resentment the child feels when he is told “Child, thank Aunt Mary for her nice present.”

Wise parents and teachers never ask for politeness. Discourtesy is bred by demanding parents. Mrs. Smith says, “I’d hate Mrs. Green next door to think that my kids haven’t been properly brought up.” Mrs. Smith seeks to conciliate the neighbors at her child’s expense.

I think the word gratitude should be erased from the dictionary. People who demand gratitude are foolish. My good friend, Henry Miller, wrote me saying that he was making a lot of money from the publication of The Tropic of Cancer. “I think that Summerhill should have some,” he said, and he sent me $1,000. Hut my feelings towards Henry are not feelings of gratitude; they are feelings of warmth for a very dear, dear man. I have no idea what sort of feel­ings I should have if an unknown John Smith sent me a million bucks. I am sure the word gratitude would not cover such feelings.

My dear parent, leave your children to find their own measure of politeness. Give them love, and they will auto­matically be polite. But if you nag your children with rules of behavior, you may well be laying the groundwork within them for in con side ration to others.

My boy has never been taught manners. He says Thank You and Please of his own accord. He is considerate of other people. But for some reason he tends to grab food with his fingers. My wife and I have sat by complacently hoping that he will outgrow this, but he continues in his mis­erable ways. Frankly, it has become a matter of disgust to us; and besides, we wonder if he won’t become perma­nently habituated in this respect, to his own and our em­barrassment in later years. What do you think?

Is he 5 or 10 or 15? Of course, he will grow out of it in time. When he takes his first love home to lunch, he won’t grab the food with his fingers.

I would do nothing about the habit so long as he was touching what he himself was to eat. I should certainly pro­test if he shoved his finger into the apple pie that was my portion of the meal.

He may have a complex about conventionality. Our eating habits are stylized. Why should we not eat peas with a knife, or pour our tea into the saucer to cool it? Why can­not we take up cheese with our fingers instead of putting it on a biscuit with a knife? We eat apples and pears by hand, so why not sausages or pork pies? I think the boy has got something there. Mind, I am not excluding the idea that his unconscious motive may be just to annoy the old folks.

You say in your letter that you and your wife believe in the principle of not imposing any kind of learning or stric­tures on the boy. But since when has this been so? Were you character formers before you heard of Summerhill? Did you, in fact, dominate the boy when he was very young. Did you, some years later, say to the boy: “You are free to do what you like?” If so, he is doing it. If it were my problem, I’d say nothing.

I am reminded of a wonderful display of good manners I once witnessed. The village minister invited a workman to lunch. The dish was mince. The workman at once began to shovel it in with his knife. The minister took up his knife and wielded it with gusto. Of course, I followed suit.