Customs, Formalities, and Conventions
Ignore Them and You’re The Fool, Not The Hero
“Don’t do that, you won’t make a good first impression.”
The first time I heard that while in my early 20s, I cringed.
My internal monologue being: “Why should I bend over to some convention, only to accommodate someone else’s impression? As if I am supposed to care!”
There’s it — the teenage ninja instinct, an aversion for conventions and customs, almost as if they degrade and corrupt. It assumes that anything constructive can’t be conventional or regular and rather must be original and fresh out of one’s own nest — i.e the new.
Customs are made to be the grumpy elderly uncle suggesting to us what not to do. The teenage ninja sees him as a rival and “oppressor”.
But then (and now we get down to it), we do pass through that teenage ninja tunnel and come out, slowly, gradually, against our will — Or in short, we grow up.
Coming out of the Teenage Ninja Phase
As we grow up, we begin to notice the need to behave, appear suitable, and respect some rules. Some, I said.
We start to notice that we aren’t free to act, talk, and respond however we want; This bothers many teenage Ninjas as they enter the Adult room. Where did that freedom go?
Answer: It hasn’t gone anywhere — You’re still free to behave as you want. But something changed as we transitioned through the tunnel.
We learned, simply, that actions have consequences; That we can’t be whoever we want, however, we want, whenever we want without facing some kickback, and our energy stores are limited, as much as we like to retort back: “I will do whatever I want, let them kick back!”
Teenage alert.
We can remain teenagers well into our late 20s, as we romp through whatever we want until as the elders (Ugh) put it — Reality kicks in at 30.
And Reality does kick in for those lingering around in Disney Land way past the show has ended. The Mailman delivers the ticket, for us to grudgingly board the last flight out called — Grow up. We need to get out of Disney Land, through the tunnel and out the other way.
Outside Disney Land, for the first time, we encounter customs, societies, and structures. We are evaluated, first and foremost. Are we fit to enter and coexist? Can we cooperate and speak their language? Are we trustworthy?
In short, restraints and conditions.
Suddenly we are not entirely free. Inappropriate moves, even an inch outside the norm are judged, which in turn invite more consequences. It seems that adjusting, bending, and restraint are the way forward, now that we’re out of Disney Land.
So what do we do? Are we dying out as we grow up?
Answer: What if restraint and adjustment aren’t tantamount to selling out, into that dried up inauthenticity we’re so afraid of?
Customs aren’t the enemy. You know what is? Not knowing what the restrictions are for.
The Need for Customs
“Don’t do that, you won’t make a good first impression”
Recall this from the first line of the article.
Once I was out of my Disney Land, the meaning and import of this restriction became clear. That first impressions matter. If I want opportunities, no matter in which area — dating, friendships, career — then making a poor first impression reduces my chances. Simple.
Sure, I can ignore that maxim and continue being “wild and free” but only if I accept the consequences that come with it.
Customs and formalities have a place. Tuning our behaviors and adjusting them has a place. They are not everything — for sure. But they have a role to play in navigating ourselves.
Without an agreed-upon convention to begin on, how would we build bridges with people — especially those we want around us?
Language is a convention you agreed on at birth. At birth.
All our wild, crazy, fantastic ideas have no value unless we can communicate them — through conventional means i.e spoken, written language. The best conceptualizations are built on conventions. The same way, you were able to do all the nutty things as a teenager only because your parents (a.k.a the conventions) paid for it. Good luck trying anything without that support at that age.
So, indeed yes, we need conventions and customs. Rash ignorance has a price attached to it, which most of us will find too steep to pay. On the other hand, blind obedience makes us dead and dull long before our time is due — the teenage ninjas have a valid fear, that of losing their identities. Their response to it, however, is childish — that of the extremes, of the bipolar. A Teenage Ninja tends to be bipolar.
Let’s then find a middle way, between the Teenage Ninja and the Grumpy old Uncle proclaiming restrictions. How about this:
We need to evaluate and select the conventions we accept. Choice. Neither meek acceptance, nor blind rejection. Choice and selection — the middle way.
The Middle Way — Breaking Conventions is a Fine Art, Not a One Day Parade
To select means to know which conventions play what role. We accept money as a convention because we know its role.
But get a few layers deeper and we’ll find ourselves facing unspoken and unjustified conventions like say, the artificial politeness surrounding a quiet dinner party. Whether we know it or not, we’re facing conventions all around us — some support us, some don’t, some are redundant and useless.
Question is, do we know which one is which?
Because only when we know what the conventions are for, do we know which ones to break. There’s an art to shattering conventions, did they tell you that? That’s the adult table the teenage ninja must reach in his lifetime — at the fence line where you carefully extend the borders by challenging redundant conventions while using and reinforcing helpful ones.
That is when we become artists with taste, as we preserve the necessary elements of our traditions while adapting to fresh necessities that attack us with each generation.
The teenage ninja instinct — which may be ripe in many people even into their adult years — calls for a premature rejection of most things traditional or conventional. It belittles the ground we’ve gained so far in its pursuit of the “new”, forgetting that we are a chain in evolution — we take from our past and launch ourselves into the future. Without the past, i.e tradition and culture, we don’t have a sturdy ground to build the “new” on. The teenage ninja however wants to build the soil and the castle from scratch which either gets him nowhere or takes him way longer than it should.
Our ancestors died and became the soil — of custom, of everyday wisdom, of necessary restriction — for us to germinate in and grow. Good luck trying to build that all by yourself from scratch.
So the next time someone trusted or elderly (maybe a mentor) points out something to you in, say these lines — “Don’t do that, You won’t make a good first impression.” — Sit up and listen. Don’t scoff or ignore carelessly. Don’t assume that you know better. Moderate your teenage ninja instinct and allow custom and culture to inform you.
Get out of Disney Land.
It’s about time.
