Do the Right Thing - Or Else.

The concept of doing what is "right" is not a foreign one to me, but lately it is a notion I hear bandied about with great frequency. Doing the right thing has always appealed to me, but it is where the definition of "right" comes from that leaves me vexed. If one is expected to live life by these codes of right and wrong, to adhere to behavioural norms and act in accordance to a certain value set, who exactly gets to determine what those norms and values are? And just because something is right when held up against those values, what is to say anything outside of those values is wrong?

I am talking in circles here, but bear with me.

When I talk about right and wrong, I am generally speaking about treating other people with respect and dignity. Do no harm, be kind whenever you can, etc. But it seems that what is "right" has somehow become interchangeable with what is "proper," "polite," or "socially acceptable." The right thing appears to be dictated by a rigid set of cultural or religious rules - to be challenged only at one's peril. For an example, I revert to the first of many family scandals I have caused since meeting my in-laws five years ago; the Great Tea Fiasco of 2003.

It was a Friday evening, around 8pm. I was not long in Northern Ireland, three months at the most. After a 7 day work-week I had put on my ballet video and donned a leotard and sweats for a bit of exercise in the living room. There was a knock on the door. Horrified at the prospect of anyone seeing me sweaty and scantily clad, I reluctantly opened the door to find Max's uncle. He was dropping off a housewarming gift on his way home(he had to pass our house to get to his). Still embarrassed, I thanked Uncle James profusely for the gift and chatted politely about the weather for a few moments. He left, awkwardly waving goodbye as he walked down the drive. I thought he was behaving rather cool-ly towards the end, but this silly American was still clueless as to why.

I realise there are some of you who are already cringing at my mistake. Someone called to my door and I didn't invite them in and offer then a cup of tea. With this, the greatest of all Irish faux-pas, I started the family gossiping for weeks. Before long most of Max's family had disclosed to his mother that I had done the same to them on one occasion or another. Auntie Agnes had called to collect a scarf one of the children had left - I kept her at the door, Auntie Noreen had called to see if I needed a lift to mass one day - I kept her at the door, Uncle Stewart had been invited in when he called round - but went thirsty as I didn't offer him a cuppa. There was no end to my inappropriate behaviour! I clearly had no shame!

I tried to defend myself, to point out that I hadn't realised the unwritten rules of hospitality which demand you invite someone into your home however messy your sitting room is or however tired/inappropriately dressed you are. I informed them that in my family if someone wanted to come in the would just say they wanted to come in, so I assumed they were all just stopping by for a moment and leaving. In a final act of desperation (stupidity) I insisted that where I come from, it is considered rude to arrive at someone's house unannounced, so really I was not the impolite one at all. Nothing could persuade my new family that it was an innocent mistake and not reason for excommunication from the entire clan. Their reasoning - I should have known to invite them in, because it was the right thing to do.

Over the years I have learned that there are many more right and wrong things to do:
Go to mass on Sunday. Why? It is the right thing to do.
Don't ever talk about money. Why? It is not right.
Always keep biscuits in your house even if you don't like them or eat them. Why? Right thing to do.
Don't talk about your feelings/cry in front of people. Why? It makes people uncomfortable and therefore is not right.
Always go along with what your elders tell you to do. Why? Right thing.
Staying in your job even though you're miserable, nodding and smiling politely even when you disagree, attending Sunday dinner and eating what your given even if you don't like meat = Right.
Complaining to waitstaff when your food is cold, arriving at a party without a bottle of wine, telling someone you disagree with them (if they happen to be older/more powerful than you), talking politics = Wrong.

I think you get the point.

More and more I feel like the term "doing what is right" is just a way to force assimilation to a certain way of life. If you do the right thing, you decrease your chances of being labeled an "other." But what of my definition of right? What if I believe challenging and questioning everything is the right thing to do? What if I believe in a grey area - that there is no right or wrong answer to most questions? The notion of right just looms there in the background, the all mighty trump card which can be pulled out to enforce compliance wherever necessary. The rebel in me wants to strut around doing the opposite of it all, just to get a reaction, just to show that the world will not crumble if we don't all do what we're told. And what a frightening notion that would be to my new family and many of my friends - not doing what you're told.

Max really struggles with this concept. It seems sometimes he waiting there with bated breath for the next set of instructions. I never saw that side of him before we moved back here. He is so defiant when deciding what clothes to wear or what music to listen to, when choosing friends or political parties - but he is so afraid to put a foot out of line when it comes to living his life in front of his parents. And I am slowly but surely becoming just as compliant. It's why we got married in the church, why we always keep biscuits in the cupboard, and why I let my father-in-law treat me like a lesser creature than him.

I am not condemning people of faith, people who have moral codes they use to guide them through their lives. I am not even condemning a set of shared manners and common courtesy. But there has got to be some give; we have to be accepting of other ways, and we have got to know why we do these things - beyond just accepting that they are "right." Without even those most simple of buts, surely we are all just a pack of lemmings running happily towards the nearest cliff.