Chicago, September 14, 2007

These words, spoken by John F. Kennedy in his 1961 inaugural address within the context of geopolitical conflict, inspired us from the moment we first read them. They've become our mantra, defined our mission, formed into a guiding principle that compels us to work tirelessly, but we hope not futilely, to help, in some small way, build a world where they are not a hope, but a reality.

In a confessional-drenched, self-empowerment-focused, liberated environment we risk the marginalization of a few essentials. Like manners. Like worrying about the comfort of others. Like not speaking your mind if doing so would unnecessarily wound or offend another. Why go out of our way for someone else and risk giving away all of that hard-won power?

No. The real strength is in taking the higher road. Extending a hand. Opening a door for a burdened stranger with a "Please, after you." Responding with "Fine, thank you" to the casual acquaintance even when you're feeling less than fine. Understanding that the words you speak and the actions you take can deeply affect another's day, sometimes even their life.

Don't get us wrong. We like some things about the new order. A few small things like, oh, shall we say, women's and minority rights. And, sometimes in the noble interests of fairness and justice and sheltering the weakest among us you do have to tell it like it is no matter how uncomfortable. But, in some ways our greater freedoms make it harder for us to discern when to apply restraint.

For example, do we really have to complain about the meal when we're the guest of a host fervently hoping we'll have a good time? And maybe we could actually stop at the stop sign to wait our turn instead of rolling through the intersection and endangering (at worst) or annoying (at least) innocent people?..."I've got places to go, damn it, and they're more important than wherever you're going!" Is it necessary to shout on our cell phones in the presence of others who may be enjoying their own quiet thoughts or are actually engaged in their surroundings? Or does our need to talk, right now, when we feel like it, supercede the rights of everyone else?

Becuase that's what we're talking about here, rights, a different kind of rights. He has the right to talk on his cell phone. But she has the right to a quiet train ride. Perhaps he could exercise his rights in a way that doesn't impinge upon hers. It's called respect and that's what true civility is all about.

And it's not weakness. It's maturity, dignity and human decency. Even, dare we say, kindness. And the strength to do the right, the respectful, the helpful thing. Look, we all wrestle with these issues every day. But maybe, together, we can work to promote a new civility, one that accommodates the lessons and progress of the past fifty years without throwing out centuries of norms that developed to strengthen the fragile bonds of human interaction. Because civility is not an antiquated frivolity. Civility is the balm that soothes the indignities of life, it's the unseen fiber that makes our days a little more tolerable, a little gentler; that connects us to each other in a humane and productive way. Civility is good and it feels good.

- Chandra GREER