Elbows for Dinner

‘I caught Granna out,’ said boy-child. Most school holidays my children spend a week with the grandparents. Each time they return they are further trained in the art of farming, have impeccable manners and are deeply grateful to be home. What’s Granna done?
‘Elbows on the table!’ said a very smug child. ‘I caught her.’ ‘But Mama’ he said. “It is the most stupid of all stupid rules. I mean who decided that putting your elbows on the table is bad? They could just as easily have decided it was good,’ he ranted. ‘Did the rule makers hundreds of years ago just all sit round and make up stupid rules about your elbows and your knife and fork. I mean who cares?
‘Well, it might seem stupid but all these rules are part of your heritage. Different cultures do different things that help define them. In some countries it is manners to burp loudly at the end of a meal – but please don’t try that out at Granna’s place.’
I had to laugh at boy-child’s vision of a committee of rule makers in a board room coming up with illogical rules but within days of this conversation I was reminded how important it is to hold on to the nuances of our culture even if they don’t make sense.
I had the honour of witnessing a long held university tradition – the graduation ceremony. Using boy-child’s logic, the idea of donning a funny cap and gown, which Monty Python could have had a field day with, and marching up on stage to get a piece of paper would seem absurd and pointless. And yet I found myself sitting in the audience snuffling into my sleeve with emotion. The ceremony marks the end of a long hard journey. It is not just for the recipient, it honours their parents and family for their support and most important of all, is a role model for children and other whanau.
In this particular ceremony each recipient spoke. Every time there was a story of how the seed to study was sown, of courage, sacrifice and hardship. Hakas were performed and waiatas offered up in celebration. They were doing these things because that is what they have been taught by their Grannas (and others.)
So while it is probably fair enough that an eight year old thinks its ridiculous to keep his elbows off the table, one day I hope he understands that one simple little ‘rule’ is a tiny piece in a large puzzle that makes up the special culture he is inheriting.
And while we should always encourage our children to question – sometimes the answer to whether elbows should be on or off the table needs to wait. And when it becomes clear I hope it is a chance for him to fondly remember a lesson learned long ago from another generation.