Yes Yes Yes
In ordinary life, it’s often difficult to know for certain if our manners are appropriate. There’s tension and different rules for behavior for different sexes, races, generations, social classes, and so forth.
During the 1950s it was common and proper for men to open doors for women. But today, they are unsure. If she’s older, would the woman feel that opened door was demeaning, a sign that she was too frail? If she’s younger, would the woman feel the opened door was denigrating, a sign that she needs a man’s protection? If the woman has a child in her arms, and a nearby man does not open the door, is he a jerk or simply protecting her equal rights to open her own doors?
Today’s workplace is comprised of people from all over the world, and American humor doesn’t often translate to other cultures. Working with doctors and pharmacists, I’ve known better than to say anything jokey at work. Their jobs save lives, and they don’t find the same things funny that I do.
The same can be said about working in an engineering environment, where the majority of the employees are from other countries. I was at a Toastmasters meeting, and another member, who grew up in Russia, gave a speech on ballet and Verde. I repeated a joke I had heard a comedian say on TV that made me laugh. I said: “Giuseppe Verdi, that’s Joe Green to you and me.” It was a mistake. The Russian asked, “Did I do something wrong?” The humor just didn’t translate, and I think he thought I was laughing at him.
Because I teach college students and work with third graders, I am reserved and careful about what I say and I strive to behave with decorum. But it’s not always easy to know what’s appropriate, for different cultures. I sometimes make mistakes. For example, I didn’t know that “fanny” was a vulgar term in the UK. My two sister-in-laws set me straight one day, when I couldn’t find my misplaced fanny pack.
Depending on where or with whom we are, our dress, our speech, our actions, and even our size can be inappropriate. That’s why I find the poem, “God Says Yes To Me” by Kaylin Haught delightful. I only hope that you will stop right now to read the poem.
Haught begins the poem saying, “I asked God if it was OK to be melodramatic/ and she said yes” There’s an easy nonchalance, humor, and irreverence in the language. The syntax is carefree, and there are no periods at the ends of sentences. The rhythm is wild and fun. If it were a dance, it would be big step, small step, big step, small step, and step, step, step.
“I asked her if it was OK to be short/ and she said it sure is.” Even God, in the poem has an easy way of speaking, with idiomatic phrasing. God does not say “it certainly is” or “it sure is,” but she says, “sure it is.” It feels natural, with the lingo God uses, for her to start using words like “honey” and “sweetcakes.”
The larger meaning of the poem is just as refreshing as the words. God says, in the end, “Yes Yes Yes,” Notice the initial caps, but no periods or dashes or commas separating each yes. And this affirmation comes, even after asking God if she has to paragraph her letters. Thank you God in the poem, for not playing Grammar Police.
I return to Haught’s poem again and again, because it’s so reassuring. Wouldn’t it be nice to be told Yes, on those moments when we ask ourselves, “Am I ok? Did I get it? Do I look all right? Do I have to worry about getting the paragraphs right in my blog post? … if we got reassurance from God herself. If she said, “Just do exactly what you want to, sweetcakes. Yes Yes Yes.” Wouldn’t it be nice?
