Earning Respect

Reflections

This publication, LookingNWords, is not an echo chamber and really is not intended to be predictable. I mention this because, despite my surprise, it continues to grow; though unsteadily at times. I remain perplexed at this because I have nothing groundbreaking to say, I just have a groundbreaking way of stating it. At least that is my folly.

One never knows what I might write about on a given day. Hell, even I don’t know oftentimes. However, as our audience grows some of the newbies may assume certain things. Certain points of view, or sociopolitical expectations. Such things do not exist here. I may wax existentialist one day, spiritualistic another day and sociopolitical the next. Sometimes it’s just literary gumbo, the only thing that makes it unique are the ingredients and how it is prepared. Through all of these machinations, stipulations and interpretations, intellect is always the cornerstone.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Everyone reading this essay has heard the trite adage that “you have to earn respect.” To those dullards I beg pardon because, you see, respect is not a thing to be “earned.” Your humanity, your personhood, garners respect. You need earn nothing in that regard regardless of physical appearance, nationality, religion or gender as far as this paltry soul is concerned. Your presence alone commands respect.

Now cometh the rub.

We, as humans, must aspire to become persons. Some of us make it, many do not. As persons, we do not “earn respect.” What we “earn” is disrespect. Rinse and repeat; thrice for idiots.

The world at large is afire. Why? Is it humanity’s need for “democracy?” The ever nebulous concept of “freedom?” Communism? Transgenderism? Capitalism? Militarism? Racism? Industrialism? Culturalism? Sexism? Hedonism? Feminism? Or the absenteeism of baptism?

No, it is the anachronism of absurdism reflected and manifested as superficial moralism.

If one were to ask a room full of 50 people what “love” is, one would get 50 distinctly different answers because one’s interpretation of love is quite subjective. I once had a paramour from another country (quite the feisty gal, she was) that explained to me that when a man hit her that showed he loved her. No shit. It freaked me out and that relationship concluded rather rapidly.

Nonetheless, I recall telling her cousin what she said and she informed me “oh, that is part of our culture.” I guess much like when Ricky Ricardo would put Lucy over his knee and spank her in the I Love Lucy episodes. Or when Ralph would ball up his fist and tell Alice, in The Honeymooners, “I’m going to send you to the moon…zoom, pow!”

Loved the Honeymooners.

Love is overrated subjective bullshit. To some love is money. To some companionship. To some sex and unbridled lust. To some materialism or worship. I love my readers because I respect and admire them; but, then again, that is my subjective definition of love: respect and admiration.

As I both shudder and marvel at a world on fire, from Palestine, to Ukraine, to Syria, to Iran (the next war), to Burkina Faso, to the Taiwan straits, to the mean streets of Los Angeles, I realize that love is not the answer. Respect is.

The young want to be respected. The old should, and must, be respected. The Black Man in the United States does not wish to be loved, he wishes to be respected. The Black Woman in the United States does not want to be loved, she wants to be respected. The Muslim, the Hindu, the Jew, the Christian does not desire your love, they desire your respect. The Democrat, the Republican, the queer, the homeless, the abused, the poor, the city-slicker, the bumpkin, the naked and the clothed do not want your motherfucking love. They want to be respected. The peril for the disrespectful is that some of us are willing to die for that respect.

And here we are.

My subjective definition of love notwithstanding (respect married to admiration) the central component to peace among persons is respect. There is no alternative. It is the lack of respect that threatens the world and humanity itself. Perhaps, in the end, respect is not only what we desire most, but often what we have never had and a course correction is imminent. Consider it the cosmic order of things.