Sweet or Sassy?

We have new ministers at our UU fellowship-- a husband and wife who will be moving back east from California to fill the opening here in Portsmouth (assuming this 'trial' period goes well).  They seem thoughtful, are young (like me;) and I hope they stay.  Last week the wife gave the sermon about, among other things, the cultural pressure to be polite- southern sweet was the phrase she used- and how it often overrides impulses to challenge wrongs in life.  The impetus, perhaps, behind not asking for your food to be taken back when it is clearly not right, not speaking up when you see a parent man-handling a child at the mall, or even keeping silent as you witness a loved one struggle with alcohol or drugs.

The topic struck me for a few reasons, not the least of which is that I have always struggled with this expectation of sweetness over honesty.  Admittedly, my struggle is sometimes more of a struggle between sweet honesty and not-so-sweet/a-little-harsh honesty, still, as I've grown I have found myself holding my tongue more often at crucial moments where, really, I should speak up.

When I was in 8th grade, I had a science teacher who was a kind man, but was also a bit disorganized.  At some point in the year, he misplaced my lab book, and then asked me why it hadn't been turned in?  I was sure I had turned it in, and told him as much- perhaps a bit harshly.  Eventually, he found it.  In his notes after he turned it back to me, he wrote something along the lines of:
"Kirsten, I apologize for having misplaced your lab book.  Perhaps, should we have such an issue in the future, you might find a way to use a little tact when confronting it."

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I didn't know what tact meant as I read that note (apparently, I also didn't know how to use it).  I ran to the dictionary and looked it up, and with the indignation and feather ruffling that only a 12 year old girl can really hit spot on, I shrugged it off.  But I never forgot what tact meant, and honestly, I think that is when I started using it- bit by bit.  For a stubborn, independent, self-assured Sagittarius, it took a long time to be able to firmly add 'tactful' to my list of attributes, but I think I can honestly wear that tag now, perhaps to a fault at times.

So in life, when is it right to confront an issue and when should it be left alone? This is my struggle, (one that I share with many, I'm sure).  It is multi-faceted, complicated, and certainly, requires tact, so thank you Mr. Misener for that lesson!  The phrase, 'you have to pick your battles' comes to mind-- as does 'a state of ignorant bliss' and 'don't rock the boat', all monikers for the notion that sweetness is at least an option and, at best, the answer.  A friend posted a NY Times article this morning about hospital sanitation, and specifically, doctors and medical personnel spreading illness with loose neckties, lab coats, even lack of hand washing.  The author was asking why it is that we fail to challenge our doctors and nurses on these concerns, even when we're aware of them.  She talks about her brother's time in the hospital, and about how, while she had concerns with his care, she was so busy trying to ingratiate herself to the staff in hopes of better care that she couldn't see a way to confront anyone.  It is the same issue-  Sweet or Sassy, with Sweet seeming so often to win out.  But at what cost?

I was talking with my 10 year old yesterday about alcohol, and was reflecting on a recent car death related to teen drinking.  I reminded him that if he's ever with a group of friends and the driver is drinking that he could call... even if he's not where he's supposed to be... even if he's ditching school and at the beach... that he should call and I will come get him.  I was assuring him that I would let it go, that he shouldn't fear my 'wrath'.  But really, what will keep him from calling might be more about not rocking the boat, not confronting an issue with his peers.  It might not be about me AT ALL.  In a culture where we can't ask our doctor if he's washed his hands before he examines us, can't ask the cab driver to get off the phone, can't say, "Hey, my steak is frozen in the middle"... How can we expect our kids to speak up when it really counts?

So, my latest 'self improvement' goal is to pay closer attention to the times that I hold my tongue, and to find a tactful way to speak up when it's a battle that needs picking.  Then I'll try to find a way to teach that tricky art to my kids.  All this sweetness seems to be making my teeth hurt.