The Hawaii Symphony’s new season has begun. I feel transported at the symphony when I see the conductor walk in, usually from the wings to the left, as applause starts. The orchestra rises as one. The conductor shakes hands with the concertmaster, and the orchestra sits down, prepared to play.
I am in Honolulu at the Blaisdell Concert Hall, but I could be in Disney Hall in Los Angeles, Avery Fisher Hall in New York, or across the ocean in countless halls. In the time that it takes for the conductor to reach the podium, three long-standing traditions of respect have occurred. Each lends a dignity as well as a timelessness to the beginning of a symphony concert.
Respect: a concept that has been cheapened in recent times by the way some people justify their bad behavior. They claim to have been “disrespected” and use the claim to act irresponsibly. Respect is something that, if you give, you expect to get. And, generally, you do.
Respect can accompany a position in life. Judy and I were invited some years ago to dine at a restaurant owned by parents of students attending our school from Thailand. At the desk, I identified us as Dr. and Mrs. White and mentioned the names of the students.
“Ah, teachers,” the woman behind the desk replied as she and the maitre’ d bowed. We were honored and taken aback at the same time. Some cultures, it seems, still revere teachers and lend them respect.
I was raised to hold the door open for my elders to pass through before I did. As young people, we would tease each other by holding the door for a contemporary and saying “respect your elders.” Though I can now be classified among the elders, I still hold the door open for people older than me. Often, the “thank you” I receive is accompanied by a quizzical look, as though such an expression of respect is rare.
I speak to retirement communities about U.S. Presidents. One gent who lamented the verbal and written abuse he thinks President Obama has attracted, asked me if any previous President had suffered as much. I assured him that every President since Washington has endured critics who have been brutal in their characterizations and accusations, like comparing Lincoln unfavorably to a baboon.
I went on to say that most people go out of their way to respect the office, if not the occupant. Most times, the President is still addressed as Mr. President. Few partisan politicians hurl personal epithets at the President, whichever his party. That is left to talk radio hosts. Former Presidents rarely criticize current Presidents.
I served as a school headmaster for 26 years. I know I made some people upset. I used to encourage people who disagreed to be open about their concerns with me; all I asked was for them to be respectful of the office. Being the head of anything invariably requires making somebody angry sometime.
It was never easy to hear criticism of my decisions or actions. Somehow I learned, though, that my duty was to hear it and respect the right of the speaker. It worked out okay.
When the New York City policemen turned their backs on the Mayor at the funerals of two slain officers a while back, who was injured more, the Mayor or the reputation of the protesters? Being respectful doesn’t always taste good. It is always in good taste.
I like singing “Hawai’i Pono’i” and the national anthem at events in Hawaii. Yes, the first symphony performance of the season began with the audience standing to sing the national anthem and the state anthem. Those are other traditions that unite us with past and future. They express our pride and our respect for our state and our nation.
Goodness knows that the people running the state and the nation sometimes do things that make my teeth grate. I believe our leaders strive to serve the common good, so I must accept that, sometimes, my idea of the common good might not be theirs. Still, why would I not respect their offices?
Being disrespectful, besides being bad manners, reveals a lack of respect for one’s self. In the movie “Quartet,” (a film for People of a Certain Age that young folks ought to see, too), the former opera diva, Jean, wallowing in self-pity, laments “we used to be somebody.” Her companion, Sissy, the alto slipping into dementia, responds “I thought I still was somebody.”
People who respect themselves without being worshipful, accept who they are as unique, not special, no matter their stage and station in life. They find it easy to respect others and the traditions that bind us to our history and each other.
I like being around those kind of people. So I go to the symphony.
Daniel E. White
October 13, 2015