"Be a nice girl"

Lester asked me the other day if I'd read this column in Motherlode about a woman expressing all the reasons she does NOT want her daughter to be nice:

http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/31/i-do-not-want-my-daughter-to-be-nice/?_r=0

Here's a few paragraphs from the post, in case you don't have time to read the whole thing:

My 10-year-old daughter, Birdy, is not nice, not exactly. She is deeply kind, profoundly compassionate and, probably, the most ethical person I know — but she will not smile at you unless either she is genuinely glad to see you or you’re telling her a joke that has something scatological for a punch line.
This makes her different from me. Sure, I spent the first half of the ’90s wearing a thrifted suede jacket that I had accessorized with a neon-green sticker across the back, expressing a somewhat negative attitude regarding the patriarchy (let’s just say it’s unprintable here). But even then, I smiled at everyone. Because I wanted everyone to like me. Everyone!
I am a radical, card-carrying feminist, and still I put out smiles indiscriminately, hoping to please not only friends and family but also my son’s orthodontist, the barista who rolls his eyes while I fumble apologetically through my wallet, and the ex-boyfriend who cheated on me. 

This article reminded Lester of our own little not-so-nice one, although she has years to go to get to the point where the author's girl is: "'Gender stereotypes, among other injustices, infuriate her,'" the author says of her tween. "'This is so stupid!'" she sighs at Target, about the pink rows of dolls and the blue rows of Lego. "'Why don’t they just put a penis or a vagina on every toy so you can be completely sure you’re getting the right one?'"

For instance, this description here reminds me of my daughter: "But when strangers talk to her, she is like, "'Whatever.'" She looks away, scowling. She does not smile or encourage."

Umm, hello Clair.

And this one, too. Oh boy, this one:  "Even as a 2-year-old, she had the determined wrath and gait of a murderous zombie gnome — and my husband and I grimaced at each other, afraid, over her small and darkly glowering head."

A murderous, screaming, swatting, swiping, angry, stubborn, unbudging, "do-not-touch-me-stranger!" zombie gnome. That's my adorable, gap-toothed, haloed little cherub, absolutely. (Love you, Clair!)

But just as Clair has a long way to go before she is strolling the toy store aisles, raging against stereotyping in a feminist fury, I admit to having a long way to go before I can say "I don't want my daughter to be nice."

I totally get this writer's point. She wants her daughter not to be a doormat, or a syrupy, smiley, apologetic wallflower. She wants her daughter to reserve her "niceness" for those who earn it, and to forever hold on to her easy ability to just say "No," no matter if it's a grabby boy making an unwanted request or a societal ill that she just won't stand for.

I love that, and want that for Clair too. I love that she can't say 50 words, but she is not. to. be. intimidated.

But darnit. I'm sorry. (See, there I go apologizing!) I want her to be nice, too.

There's no reason you can't be nice for niceness' sake -- and still be a girl who knows what she will and will not stand for. Nice is good. Too many people think they're nice and really aren't. And too many people try so hard not to be nice, for fear they'll get run over. I don't want Clair to fear being nice.

I once had a co-worker tell me that she didn't "give" anyone respect. Everyone she met had to earn it.

I feel like that's the wrong way to go about life. I think you should treat everyone you meet with respect, graciously dole it out even, unless that person gives you a good reason not to. And even then, I think you should still show (most people) outward respect, even if you don't feel it in your heart.

I feel the same way about niceness. People don't have to "earn" me being nice to them. I'm just nice (or at least I really try to be). And if I get to the point where a person no longer deserves my niceness, well that's a different story. I know when to fold 'em, walk away, run -- or stay and fight.  Ask people at the Baltimore Sun union if I ever rolled over in the face of injustice.

I want my fierce baby girl to be a nice girl too -- in fact, I want all my children to be nice, kind, charitable and considerate of others.

And if they ever have to put someone or something in its place some day, I hope they'll do it with gusto. I also hope they do it with a smile.

Have a nice day y'all. :-)