As children, we are taught to be nice. To stick up for the little kid and be respectful of the bigger one. We are taught to listen to adults — respond with "Yes, please" and "No thank you." When we disobey, our parents (metaphorically) slap us on the wrist and whisper, "Be nice!" Being nice is often confused with being kind.
I spent the past week in Memphis, Tennessee working with children living in the dangerous, crime-ridden neighborhoods of (West Memphis). Being nice is not their top priority. When I left, I expected to come home changed in some way. Whether it be spiritually, mentally, or even culturally. I anticipated the culture shock that comes with entering a broken neighborhood, and the emotional rollercoaster of working with children who have seen and experienced the struggles and violent deaths of those around them.
Surprisingly, it wasn't the chaos of a new city or the sweltering heat of an unforgiving sun that sparked my epiphany. It was the copious amount of group travel throughout the week.
One evening, my group took a trip to the Starbucks in Memphis to decompress (honestly, our first choice was Dunkin' Donuts but they were closed). Taking a group of eighteen anywhere is a struggle. It's hard to not overtake the entire store or restaurant. So, in an attempt to have enough room for all eighteen of us, some members of the group took it upon themselves to go to the patio outside and create a giant cluster of tables and chairs.
As I walked out of the door and onto the patio, I watched as some members of the group took empty chairs from occupied tables without asking. People began slowly glancing up from their computer screens, glaring at the children taking up three-fourths of the patio and stealing their chairs. Even if they weren't being used, taking something from someone's table without asking seems like a violation of privacy.
A group of men exited the shop behind me and headed toward a man engulfed in the bright screen of his laptop. He was sitting at the sole chair at the table. The men without chairs saw our group, and they were nice. They smiled and sat on the brick wall to avoid taking a chair that, may I remind you, was taken from their table without permission.
Around the corner of the building there was a man, obviously homeless, sitting at a table by himself. When he saw the men struggling to find a chair to sit in, the got up, took both of the chairs from his table, and gave them to the two men. This man who had nothing, who, I knew must come there often as he was there every day we went, had given up possibly the only chair he'd sat in all day.
See, there's a difference between being nice and being considerate. Anyone can be nice. How many times have you smiled and pretended to be happy to see someone? How often fo you wave at an acquaintance in passing?
There's this idea circulating social media that my generation is rude, narcissistic, and materialistic to name a few. The older generation claims we are spoiled, self-absorbed little brats. To a degree, we are. We have become increasingly more concerned with our image on social media and our access to infinite information doesn't help to humble us.
Watching that homeless man, a man probably in his early fifties, get up and take his chairs to the men who had none, showed me the real issue. It is not about being nice. My generation is nice. The youth members who created the group of tables and chairs on the Starbucks patio are nice. What is lacking in this situation, as well as my generation, is consideration -- looking at the people around you and being careful not to inconvenience or offend anyone who was there before you.
It was inconsiderate for my group to come into that local Starbucks and take over the front patio while men and women attempted to finish their evening coffee and work. It was inconsiderate to take the chairs from other customers' tables without asking. It wasn't mean. I like to think we are all nice people, but nice doesn't equate to consideration.
So, in Memphis Tennessee, I learned the difference between being nice and being considerate. Maybe we should start teaching our children this difference too.
