Find out what it means to me?
12/19/2003 01:05 a.m.
I have issues with the whole idea of respect. Maybe it's because I grew up with a father who was eager to punish you when he felt you weren't displaying the proper amount of it, even though his idea of respect was more akin to fear than anything. Maybe it's because I don't have any for myself, and therefore can't find it in me to have much for other people.

What irritates me is the idea that respect is something that some people are owed for pretty much nothing at all. Like I owe old people respect just because they've been alive forever when I don't think that being alive forever is such a fait accompli. Or like I owe George W. Bush respect just because people I don't agree with, and not even the majority, voted to put him in the authority position. Or like I owe my mother respect just because she's my mother, even though she's never been good at it. Or, like I always owed my father respect because, as he said, "I'm your father, I own you," when what he really meant was "I can hurt you and no one can stop me."

Still, I try to always, when aiming to avoid trouble, give at least the illusion of being respectful. The manners, etc. That's what people want, to be respected. You give them what they want and they are happy and they don't bother you. Personally, I don't care about respect, which I guess is good, because I rarely get it. I'm young. I'm a woman. I'm more than slightly mental. There's nothing about me that screams "respect me" in the traditional sense. Maybe if I ever get old or elected to an office. Equally bad chances for both of those.

I can honestly only think of one person that I respect, and that's Rasool. Not because he's my boyfriend, because anybody with a penis who would have sex with me and deal with my neurotic crap and un-beautifulness could be my boyfriend, but because he's intelligent and thoughtful, and he has ideas, and a code of honor, and he sincerely tries to live by those things, without hypocrisy, while keeping an open-mind about the way that other people live. He grew up in the ghetto. He never really knew his father. His mother's family is full of convicts and drug-addicts, and he's managed to stay pretty much vice-free except for a hard-core need to play a lot of video games. I respect and admire that, especially in light of my own failings. Except for the video games part, because they take his attention away from me.

If I'd had better parents, I'd probably be a different person today, and I'd probably respect my elders and authority figures and parents and neighborhood crossing-guards. Still, I'm fairly glad that I ended up thinking that my respect is a privilege to award to someone rather than an obligation to give to any number of people just because they insist that they deserve it.

Note: I think I'll post this to my blog, too, since I put so much effort (15 minutes!) into writing it.