2008 Woodie Awards
It doesn't take much effort to be nice
Lauren Ruffing
Issue date: 3/19/04 Section: Viewpoint
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"Have a nice day."
What does that saying mean? Have we let it become a convenient departure phrase removing any need for thought and genuine sentiment? It's systematic. It's drilled into the heads of customer service clerks on training day number one. Workers mumble it to shoppers in a monotone voice, and their duty is done. They don't have to mean it. They don't even have to look up as they regurgitate the false sense of care. Then there are those who despise the repetition, and quite possibly the job, so much that they bypass their instilled courtesy techniques and instead say nothing. We're left in an awkward moment of silence, a silence that could have been avoided.
What about the saying "How are you?" It's certainly courteous to inquire into an acquaintance's state of mind, but how many times have people posed this question without even bothering to wait for a reply? We're all guilty of it. We all want to be polite, but we don't all always care about how someone else, someone outside our exclusive circle, someone attaining no bearing on our daily well being, is actually doing. Sometimes, we just don't have the time to care.
We live in a world, or shall I say society, where "please" and "thank you'" are optional forms of expression, where smiles take effort, and where holding the door is strenuous. We live in a world where being "nice" has indeed lost its appeal.
By declining in existence, "nice" actions have ascended in value. The other week, when my roommate and her boyfriend were dining at the local Boston Market, they witnessed an elderly woman struggling to make it to the door. She could barely maneuver her walker by itself let alone with a pocketbook in one hand and an overflowing dinner bag in the other. An abundance of both employees and other diners stared in pity, at best in compassion, but they exhibited no signs of abandoning their safe spectator positions. My roommate and her boyfriend stepped up to the plate in the overly passive situation that shouldn't have been a game, a game of too much apathy and not enough guts. The woman couldn't believe their generosity. She thanked them profusely as if she had won the lottery.
What does that saying mean? Have we let it become a convenient departure phrase removing any need for thought and genuine sentiment? It's systematic. It's drilled into the heads of customer service clerks on training day number one. Workers mumble it to shoppers in a monotone voice, and their duty is done. They don't have to mean it. They don't even have to look up as they regurgitate the false sense of care. Then there are those who despise the repetition, and quite possibly the job, so much that they bypass their instilled courtesy techniques and instead say nothing. We're left in an awkward moment of silence, a silence that could have been avoided.
What about the saying "How are you?" It's certainly courteous to inquire into an acquaintance's state of mind, but how many times have people posed this question without even bothering to wait for a reply? We're all guilty of it. We all want to be polite, but we don't all always care about how someone else, someone outside our exclusive circle, someone attaining no bearing on our daily well being, is actually doing. Sometimes, we just don't have the time to care.
We live in a world, or shall I say society, where "please" and "thank you'" are optional forms of expression, where smiles take effort, and where holding the door is strenuous. We live in a world where being "nice" has indeed lost its appeal.
By declining in existence, "nice" actions have ascended in value. The other week, when my roommate and her boyfriend were dining at the local Boston Market, they witnessed an elderly woman struggling to make it to the door. She could barely maneuver her walker by itself let alone with a pocketbook in one hand and an overflowing dinner bag in the other. An abundance of both employees and other diners stared in pity, at best in compassion, but they exhibited no signs of abandoning their safe spectator positions. My roommate and her boyfriend stepped up to the plate in the overly passive situation that shouldn't have been a game, a game of too much apathy and not enough guts. The woman couldn't believe their generosity. She thanked them profusely as if she had won the lottery.