Mind Your Manners, That Is, If You Have Any
Stop listening to the sound of your own voice.
I am on a rant this week (some might ask when aren’t I?), but I can’t help myself. Well, maybe I could if I wanted to, but I don’t.
A little background. A dinosaur lawyer colleague and friend of very long standing, thirty-five years or so but who’s counting, was being honored by a bar association for “lifetime achievement.” There were several others also being honored, including a judicial officer.
Hating bar association functions with a passion, I agreed to attend because I wanted to honor my friend and hear what he had to say in accepting this richly deserved lifetime achievement award. He is an amazing lawyer, husband, father, friend, and volunteer, just to name a few nouns. I am honored to be his friend.
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So, off I went to the bar association dinner to honor him and others. Not only could I not hear a single, solitary word my friend said, I could not hear what any of the honorees, the emcee, or any other speaker had to say. I couldn’t hear the videos, I couldn’t hear anything, except for the unending raucous chatter of a few hundred lawyers, judges, and others who couldn’t or, more likely, wouldn’t shut up. The din of conversation was non-stop throughout the presentations. Speakers tried in vain to get the audience to quiet down or at least keep it to a dull roar, but all were stunningly unsuccessful.
I was appalled and I still am at the lack of courtesy shown to the honorees, their families and friends, and the rest of the audience. I was appalled and I still am at the all-encompassing rudeness of those in attendance, who didn’t even exhibit the simple courtesy of allowing the honorees to have their moments in the spotlight, to say what they wanted to say, to be heard.
And yet, I am sure that if you queried any of the audience, every last one would say that they pride themselves on their politeness, their civility, their courtesy. Please, spare me the pats on the back.
What I saw was rudeness to the nth degree. I was embarrassed for the honorees and their families and friends. I was embarrassed for me and everyone else who was there. I left after my friend’s speech that I couldn’t hear a word of. At one point, toward the end, the only words I think I heard him say (and I don’t think they were in his comments) were apologetic words to the effect of “I’m almost done.”
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Afterward, I told him by email that I was sorry that I was not being able to hear what he said and wondered if he would email me a copy of his remarks. His email response was classic graciousness: he thanked me for being there and apologized for not being able to spend time with me. He is the epitome of class. He’s emailed me his remarks, and I think that the audience missed out on some very important points he made about his life and times.
What is wrong with a room full of lawyers, judges and others that they can’t stop talking long enough to show respect to the honorees and those in the audience who would like to hear what they had to say? As I said in a recent column, and perhaps I was prescient, that we lawyers need to stop talking. And I mean stop talking and listen, just listen. Stop listening to the sound of your own voice; show some respect to the people around you. If you don’t want to listen to the speeches, then go out in the reception area and continue the conversation. If you don’t want to listen to the speeches, then why do you even bother to attend? There are plenty of other networking opportunities that present themselves; to show this kind of discourtesy is stunning. We’re lawyers, folks, and no lawyer would ever talk over a judicial officer in a courtroom, but somehow the same respect is not accorded to a judicial officer in another setting. Hearing the verbal antics of the audience as these honorees sought in vain to be heard was just another reminder about how hard it is to be heard, and how hard these honorees have fought to be heard over their long and distinguished careers.
Chalk up another difference between dinosaurs and millennials: how to behave in a public setting. And this is one setting in which dinosaur parents’ belief that “children should be seen and not heard” applies. Yes, these were adults acting like children. Yes, these were lawyers thinking that there’s no one else of import in the world except them. Yes, these were disrespectful humans, who should all be called out for their impolite, discourteous behavior.
Where on earth did these lawyers learn these manners, or am I assuming facts not in evidence? They either weren’t taught them in family homes, or maybe they were, but they were forgotten as soon as they left home.
In these days of Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, and other ways of communicating, millennials still have some very valuable lessons that they need to learn. One is to respect your elders, especially when they’ve blazed the trails that you now walk. But for them, you wouldn’t have the careers you have and the opportunities you have. Don’t kid yourselves that you did it all on your own. You didn’t.
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Another lesson is to STFU. There’s nothing you have to say that can’t wait an hour or so. There’s nothing you have to say that justifies such rudeness and ill manners. There’s nothing you have to say that is of any import compared to what thoughts the honorees have to share, including their own stories.
Manners make an impression, whether good or bad. All of you who attended and who couldn’t bear to STFU for even an hour should be ashamed of yourselves. You showed yourselves to be selfish, immature brats.
Don’t give me any excuses. There aren’t any. Apologies to all the honorees would be a good place to start.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.
