Spoon Responsibly, Folks
One of my earliest memories in school was the introduction (and subsequent reiteration every year) of “The Golden Rule”: Treat others the way you want to be treated. Well, I wanted people to be “nice” to me. Seemed simple enough. Right? Soon enough, though, it seemed like I was one of the few kids who took this rule to heart. I didn’t receive much “Hey now, be nice” scolding, but it surrounded me. Other children were testing their limits with teachers and classmates, but not me; I didn’t get in trouble much. Weird brag, I know, but as a little girl, it’s what made world feel balanced. The logic I had at the time was that if I didn’t get scolded, that meant I was doing everything right. “I’ve cracked the code to never ever getting in trouble! Why doesn’t everyone do this? I want people to be nice to me, so I’ll be nice.” I lived and breathed the Golden Rule. I bled gold. The Golden Rule was my life at that point. All five years of it.
After learning and mastering this at school, I took the Golden Rule home. If home is where the heart is, my home was our humble house of three: Mom, Dad, and me. Apart from being disciplinarians when they needed to be, my parents are pretty playful people. Sometimes, this playfulness would take the form of teasing. As many Filipino parents do with their children, they would call me “tabachoy” meaning chubby. In their defense, my cheeks were so round that my lips could not fully close when my face was relaxed. In my defense, it was adorable. I’ve since passed this trait down to my son, and I will make sure he knows how much I love it. However, back in my day, my mom or dad would make a cute play on the word and say, “Hello Tabachingching!” I heard that, applied the Golden Rule, assumed this is how they wanted to be treated, looked them in the eye, and happily obliged. “Hi, Fatty!” Immediate no. Not received well. Abort the plan. Too late. No longer playful.
I didn’t have the words for it then, but I mentally formed an addendum to the Golden Rule. “Treat others the way you want to be treated, but don’t assume they’re doing the same thing.” The simplified version my kid-brain came up with was: just be nice, no matter what. It wasn’t until well into my adult life that I revisited that—or even questioned it for that matter. Aren’t there any other, clearer guidelines for being nice?
There is an old piece of folklore that spans cultures and religions, attributed to a preacher known as Rabbi Hai of Romshishok, who traveled through Lithuania delivering sermons. The story is known as The Parable of the Long Spoons. In it, two separate banquets are occurring for starving people chomping at the bit to eat. The only thing is, at these banquets, you must eat using only utensils. However, the only available utensils provided are incredibly long spoons.
At the first banquet, the hungry people are desperately trying to feed themselves, but their arms are much shorter than the long spoons, so it is impossible to get the food to their mouths. They are screaming and yelling in frustration that the food they want so badly is just there, but they cannot get a single bite to eat. These banqueters try time and time again to feed themselves, each demanding they get something to eat. Food is spilling, serving bowls are being toppled over, and lengthy spoons are crashing as they cross paths in the air. It’s not long before all the food is destroyed in the frenzy. No one has eaten. Everyone suffers.
At the second banquet, the people are equally starving. They pick up their long spoons, take a scoop of the food, and take a look around the room. They immediately recognize they will have a similar kind of problem. However, instead of insistently bringing the spoon to their mouths, they use self and situational awareness. They begin to feed each other. No spilled food, no crashing spoons, and everyone is eating.
At the first banquet, because of their automatic selfish outlook and refusal to take into account the struggles of others, they starve. At the second banquet, they recognized that not only do they share a struggle, but they could also share a solution by helping one another.
The first banquet symbolizes hell, and the second banquet, heaven.
I first heard this story while working as a brand-new nurse in a hospital. One of the other nurses noticed I was struggling with my workload and offered to help me, but I kept trying to refuse her help since I noticed she was busy herself. In the end, I told her that the only way I’d accept her help was if she accepted mine. “That’s heaven for ya!”, she responded. She noticed the confused look on my face. That was the night she told me this parable. I filed it away in the “how to be nice to others” folder in my mind. Right below The Golden Rule.
Though the Golden Rule still exists within me, it took on more contradiction, confusion, and catch-22s over the years. My mistake was assuming that the Golden Rule was a blanket statement. Fool-proof, I foolishly thought. The way people treat me must be the way they want to be treated, right? Wrong. We’re more complicated than that.
I kept to my spoon and assumed everybody else was. Passively, I went through the motions of feigning connection by mirroring what I wanted to them. But it all stemmed from my wants and my needs without a thought of theirs.
The Parable of the Long Spoons wasn’t without its flaws, though. In the same way that I was incorrect in thinking the Golden Rule could be used as a blanket statement, not everyone can be properly fed by the same type of spoon. Some might prefer a gentle approach, while others might respond better to someone more straightforward. Some might choose to give or receive gifts that show appreciation, while others take kind words to heart. This is where the true work and responsibility lie within each connection: different people, different spoons.
There isn’t much benefit in committing to one rule about how we treat one another. I want to “be nice,” sure! Contrary to my kindergarten belief, it isn’t that easy. The possibility of a blanket statement applying to everyone and anyone is complicated by the beautiful fact that no two people are exactly alike. Their wants may differ. Their dreams may differ. Their understanding, personality, and love languages may differ. The word for it might even differ. I think I’ve been chasing something different. It isn’t about being nice, as much as it is about being kind.
Being “nice” to someone is to treat someone with our version of respect, politeness, and positivity.
Being “kind” is treating someone well based on the connection you’ve made or something you’ve learned about them.
Being “nice” is a positive extension of ourselves toward someone else.
Being “kind” is to meet someone where they are and treat them in a way that you know matters to them.
Being “nice” is from us.
Being “kind” is for them.
When it comes to being “nice”, maybe the Golden Rule and Parable of the Long Spoons can work. However, when it comes to kindness, perhaps it isn’t a golden compass you need, but a golden spoon.
Take the Parable of the Long Spoons and make one edit: the spoons are made of solid gold. The spoons are now not just long, but they’re heavy. With the weight of solid gold, the spoon becomes difficult to maneuver toward someone’s mouth. You’ll need help. A different etiquette is needed. I call it “The Golden Spoon Method”.
With the Golden Spoon Method, we are no longer using both of our hands to hold the spoon to feed someone. It’s so heavy, it’s hard to gracefully direct it into someone’s mouth. Instead, as we are trying to feed someone else, they are using one of their hands to help us direct the spoon end so they can eat. Meanwhile, one of our hands is helping someone feed us, as well. Each person has one hand on the handle of the spoon that they are feeding someone with, and the other hand on the spoon end of the one they are being fed with. Everyone has a hand in the kindness they show to others and in the kindness shown to themselves.
In the same way that our ears understand language, believe it or not, our hearts have their own language too. There are different types of love and kindness that our hearts resonate with more than others. According to Gary Chapman PhD, in his book The Five Love Languages, each of us naturally “speak” a certain love language that rings true to us. The five love languages are: words of affirmation (verbal support and active listening), physical touch (affectionate body language), receiving gifts (symbolic or thoughtful items), quality time (uninterrupted, focused connection), and acts of service (gestures intended to help or assist). This is where we get a hand on the spoon that feeds us. If we can identify within ourselves what our preferred love languages may be, then we can truly help them hold up that golden spoon and vice versa. The Golden Rule and the Parable of the Long Spoons is nice! But the Golden Spoon Method? That’s one of a kind.
