Would You Give Up Your Seat for The Old?
GiaB prompt #2–5 — the elderly
Kid, stand up and give me the seat, a lady on the train demanded. She was at most a pentagenarian.
I glanced up from my phone, catching a glimpse of the teenager in her school uniform. I didn’t recognise it per se — the Qipao design was identical for quite a few prominent schools — but considering where she came from and where she was going, it’s not difficult to guess where she studied.
It’s better to just stand up, I thought to myself.
Schoolchildren in uniforms are most vulnerable in these situations. You don’t stand up; you might be reported to your school principal for misbehaviour; you stand up, someone might be recording and sharing the incident online already. All you can do is to do as they say and hope for the best.
The girl stood up, shifted forward in an antalgic gait, and clasped the handles; the middle-aged woman sat down promptly with a smile and took out a gossip magazine.
Respect your elders, we were always taught. But to what extent? Of course, help actual geriatrics struggling with the quick pace of life. But respecting everyone more aged than you, even if they are getting along fine, or have not even retired?
For years we were taught to bend to their wishes, conditioned by society to act as they like, sense and sensuality aside. Stand up, regardless of injury or pregnancy. Just stand up. You’re young, and your elders didn’t have the enjoyment that you bathe in now. When they were your age, they were already working in factories or married with a kid or two. Without them, the economy wouldn’t have boomed, and you would still be living in poverty without tap water.
You reap what they have sown, and you ought to pay them back. You are their investment to a sustainable retirement.
My grandparents didn’t allow my parents to move out after marriage. I lived with my grandparents throughout my childhood. For years, I’ve been conditioned by my grandparents to do as they say. Upon the first “but” you utter, they shout in your face with saliva spraying all over your face: what do you mean “but”? Do you know who you are? Do you know who I am? Without me, you won’t exist. What’s this attitude?
I cried in front of them, until the day my grandfather tugged me by the arm and hit me on the face. After that, I wept all the same, but kept it in the dark. My parents had no better solution, for what could they do against someone older than them? Just do as they say, my mother would say, if not, they’ll start talking about how they fed your father and nurtured him to be a man, and how ungrateful he is to be siding with his wife and children instead of his parents.
A few months into the pandemic, cohabitation proved to be a nuisance. Even if I were having a virtual meeting behind locked doors, my grandfather would barge in with the spare key and drag me out, either to cook congee for him or to help him troubleshoot the fax machine. I moved out, and it wasn’t until then that I realised how toxic their control over us was, and how none of my peers had it like me. I was surprised at the amount of free time I had, and shook at the extent to which it had been dictated. Then and only then could I dine out with friends or spend an entire Sunday afternoon in the library, free from guilt and worry for having to get home before curfew at 6 P.M.
There are adults I admire and silver-hairs I adore. But standing in the presence of someone older than me, I bow my head only by reflex.
Do I respect them from my heart or out of fear? The first requires time and space; the second is immediate. One would wish they could coexist, but living in fear, you can’t come to know them for who they are — the very basis of admiration and love.
Respect your elders, but not without reason. Despicable people come in all sizes and ages. Those worth appreciation would be wait for it patiently.
I would like to invite a few friends to join the GiaB prompt challenges:
Bob Metivier Libby Shively McAvoy Erin Dixon Heath Margie Willis Heather C Holmes Hamsalekha Danna Z Aaryaman Nijhawan Aldric Chen