DAN AKINBOSEDE
<Contributor>
By now, most of you reading this are shall I say “au courant” with the incident involving a member of the Osgoode community writing an open letter of complaint to other class members regarding an issue of classroom etiquette. This act that has since been fodder for derision not just within the Osgoode community, but externally as well. A once respectable daily publication with a geographical circulation akin to its moniker felt this incident was worthy of national, dare I say, global attention. Surely there were other stories of consequence to report. To be in the position of newspaper editor ought to entail qualifications in excess of being able to maintain a steady pulse and tying the occasional shoelace. At the very least the position ought to require an appreciation for the term “journalistic discretion”. Sadly, and under the guise of reporting a reported story, many other broadcast mediums followed suit, running with what was clearly a non-story. Televised reports featured reputable personalities projecting specious objectivity, laced with masochistic and despicable innuendo. Anyone can write anthologies sufficiently large to fill a decent-sized library on the unmistakable decline of journalistic standards and the proliferation of the industry with effete individuals.
This article is about the rapidly changing status quo of what constitutes decorum in shared public spaces. You see, while most may (and should) disagree with the medium employed by the complainant, the message is not without some salience. When it comes to public spaces, the dicta “good fences make good neighbors” and “good neighbors build good fences”, are personally resonant. The mitigation of anything that could represent an encroachment upon the enjoyment of others sharing a public space is, in effect, the construction of a good boundary. This perhaps explains why you will never find an audiophile in Gowlings Hall listening to music playing from a boom box, or anyone clipping toenails in the foyer, etc. Some boundaries such as not smoking indoors may require legislative intervention for compliance. We are all apprised of some of these standards and make a tacit agreement to adhere to most of them.
The problem with a changing status quo lies in the fact that we all lose some of its protections. To those who feel dining is perfectly acceptable whenever and wherever anyone feels the masticatory compulsion, should recognize that the status quo might not always be this tolerable. The sweet-sounding “crunchy chips”, and the redolent “fish sandwiches” which evidently comprise classroom cuisine today, can easily transition to the unmistakably pungent gumbo, the nasally agitating kimchi and the raucous shell cracking lobster meals of tomorrow. Where you stand under this new status quo would ultimately depend on where you’re sitting (literally and figuratively). Under the old status quo, individuals aversive to certain smells and sounds could predictably navigate around the locus for each. The new status quo seems to mandate adaptation or extinction.
A classroom remains a space designed and dedicated for the specific purpose of delivering and receiving educational instruction. Which is why almost all activities not directly related to this purpose, when the space is being used for its stated purpose, are actively discouraged. Counterarguments to this point are lengthy and not without merit when it comes to dining in a classroom: from tightly packed schedules to medical requirements and the points between, all are (at least to the parties espousing them) valid but assailable.
In a time before the present, dining was reserved exclusively for spaces dedicated specifically for that purpose. Today, largely due to the ubiquity of fast food dispensaries, the status quo with respect to dining has altered slightly. It is mostly acceptable to eat and be seen eating in most places, the exception of a few locations, such as a within a religious congregation during its regular proceedings.
The way we act in shared public spaces is somewhat indicative of the level of respect we afford others sharing the same spaces. Respect is something that should be earned while disrespect is that which ought to be deserved. Individual decorum in public spaces could be extrapolated to represent the level of deference afforded others sharing the space. We are not obliged to make public spaces comfortable for those who share it, but we do so for those we respect. Respect, a synonym for courtesy and politeness, can take the form of wiping down the seat next to yours, holding the door open for a trailing individual, giving up your seat on a bus, hurriedly eating a sandwich in the hallway outside the classroom, etc. Again, there is no law mandating from each of us the performance of the aforementioned when availed with the opportunity or presented with the option. Furthermore the beneficiaries of the aforementioned may very well be strangers, who have not earned our respect. However, most of us can very well concede that these are some of the pervasive behavioral characteristics within societies we would invariably describe as civilized. These simple acts of selfless consideration define a sophisticated and complex society rather than a simplistic one. They are performed by persons with attuned empathetic sensibilities, predisposed to being accessible and relatable without being perceived as patronizing or pretentious.
On the other hand, and regardless of whether it is deserved, the law can and often does preclude behavior that is disrespectful, discourteous or impolite. This is why you cannot save an empty seat while riding in a crowded bus, despite the fact that the supplicant had previously expressed an unrequited interest. No one is obliged to hold a door open for someone trailing behind, but we are precluded from deliberately slamming one in the face of another. It is not difficult to determine where to draw the line for etiquette. Behave each day as you would around people whom you respect, whose respect you covet and persons who if you disrespected, would make for unpleasant consequences for you. This is possibly the reason why most people reflexively turn down the car stereo when pulled over by the police or why we wouldn’t, if employed by a prestigious firm, contemplate for a millisecond eating anything (let alone a bowl of gumbo) in the presence of a client, with whom a business relationship is greatly desired.
The open letter by the student was wrong for a host of reasons and the writer now certainly is aware of this. The ineloquence of the writer or the truculent nature of the medium aside, the content of the letter retains at the very least, subject matter worthy of quite contemplation and self-reflection. With good fences, we collectively can limit, nay, eliminate any encroachment upon our individual enjoyment of communal spaces. The positive ripple effect from this I like to think is infinite: as good neighbors make for great friends, and great friends coexist harmoniously in any and indeed all spaces. Eventually, you’ll inevitably realize the grass is always green, when you live on both sides of the fence.