A Moment of Rudeness

There’s a moment I think about almost every day, which I’ve never told anyone. In some ways it’s a small everyday moment, and I don’t like to think about it much – but it comes to mind often as I’m interacting with other people, and I find it both confronting and helpful, personally and professionally. I wonder if you might have a similar moment.

Almost a year ago, my mom died. We knew the end was coming, but it all escalated quickly. After walking my dog I ordered an iced coffee from Starbucks, and as I pulled into the oh-too-familiar parking lot, my dad called on Facetime so my mom and I could have our final conversation and say goodbye to each other. I think about that moment a lot – I can’t drive into that parking lot without some of the conversation flooding my mind – but that’s not the moment I want to talk about here.

My family and I live on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from my parents, so after that Facetime conversation I booked the next ticket I could get, for that day’s overnight flight. I kept in touch throughout the day, and knew my mom was still alive by the time I got on the flight, and lost contact with the outside world – the only time I’d ever wanted inflight wifi, and this flight didn’t have it. Of course, I couldn’t sleep during the night. Without any way to know what was happening with my mom, Schrödinger’s cat came to mind a lot. I wrote notes of things I would say either to her or at her funeral, and I watched bad movies that I would never remember.

But the moment I mentioned at the beginning happened after the flight landed. From previous experience I knew my phone wouldn’t work until we were off the plane and in the terminal. At this point, I was feeling jittery, apprehensive, and highly emotional. I desperately wanted to know if my mom was still alive, but I was towards the back of the plane on the far side from the exit, and the crowd of people getting off in front of me seemed impossibly large, especially because they were shuttling us to the terminal in small buses. With every few steps forward, I was checking my phone, hoping it would be able to connect while also fearing what I would find if it did.

As I got to the front and across the plane to the door, a gray-haired woman in her 70s or 80s was my counterpart from the other aisle. She was frail but able-bodied, and in some superficial ways reminded me of my mom. In my anxiety about getting news about my mom, I stepped (perhaps pushed) in front of this woman to get off the plane as quickly as I could. With disappointment in her voice, she quietly commented behind me, “Huh, well, okay then.”

That’s the moment I think about a lot. I wanted to turn to her, apologize, and explain what was going on, but I was in such an unknown space myself that I didn’t have it in me to boil it down to a brief conversation as we got led down the stairs to the bus. On the bus we were separated, and then my phone connected and I found out my mom was still alive. I looked for the woman as we got off the bus and at customs and baggage claim, but no luck. Without all the context of what I was going through, all that she was left with from our brief interaction was that I was rude, or at the very least inconsiderate.

Almost a year later I doubt the woman thinks about this moment at all. But I do. Why does this come to mind for me so much? Perhaps in part because this woman reminded me of my mom, and given the situation, pushing in front of her felt more important than it was. But I also try to remember it whenever I experience a moment of rudeness from someone else, either personally or professionally.

A few months ago I was running a professional development program for a small group of university staff and faculty. One of the participants showed up late, and looked at her phone constantly during the first session, occasionally leaving the room and needing some catch-up when she came back in. After a little while, during group conversation, she teared up, apologized, and let us all know what she was going through – her husband was traveling to sub-Saharan Africa for work, and during the night his appendix had burst and he had been admitted to the ER. Naturally, she was worried and distracted; frankly, I was surprised she even joined us. I was grateful that she shared that with the group; until she did, I simply thought she didn’t want to be there, that she was being disrespectful, and yes, even rude. But of course when she told us what was going on, my perspective completely changed.

Perhaps you have your own experiences on either side of “rudeness” that come to mind. And of course, these are everyday experiences; if you don’t experience something that feels like rudeness over the course of your week – or maybe even your day – you’re very lucky! But I also wonder how often you come across as rude to someone else, whether or not they’d ever say anything to you about it. Perhaps in each case, you could explain exactly why you acted the way you did, and the other person would understand. But without context, what comes across is only a moment of rudeness.

How is this relevant for you and your team this week?

This Week’s Tips:

• For yourself: Bring to mind an experience where you know you’ve come across as rude to people you may not know well (if you can’t think of one, ask someone who knows you well – they’ll remember one!). Recognize that your experience of that moment is different from that of others who were there. Consider the importance of context, and in meetings/interactions, pay attention to your own behavior; if context is needed for others to understand your comments or behavior, consider what/when to share.
• For your teams, and for others: Practice grace for behavior that is initially difficult to understand (reflecting my mom, who always believed that behavior that was difficult to understand had a hidden explanation). Consider that even if someone doesn’t feel comfortable sharing their situation, each person has a lot happening in their life that you don’t know about. This might come across as rudeness, or shortness of temper, or dismissive behavior. Offer gentle open-ended questions and cultivate a safe space for someone to feel comfortable talking about things that are going on in their life, but be okay also with not knowing. This is not to say that you should tolerate harmful behavior or not stand up for yourself or others, but the majority of behavior we see is small, everyday stuff. In the vast majority of your interactions with others, you may never know what’s going on for them – so err on the side of grace, and see what happens as a result.

Try this out this week, and let us know how it goes – we’d love to hear from you.

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