I discovered very early growing up, elders were always quick and prone to easily express dismay and often, abject refusal whenever what seemed like a novel idea, was in the works. (At least, that was how I termed new things I wanted to try, as novel ideas.) Along with the older folks’ other instructional measures at either instilling discipline or teaching the young into “how the world works”, the most common (if not the only) command was but one significant word, no. Pets and other animals have it better.
Up until now, the jury’s out on how to really coax the young to tow the line, as it were, in order to be ‘responsible’ members of society (their words, not mine). Be that as it may, if one were to look at the different stages and timelines into how cultures developed, you’d notice right away that ever so often, what were once acceptable during the time would now be frowned upon later and vice versa. Because of this, whatever norms that existed and were proved presentable in the old days were now either forgiven, ridiculed as unbelievably crude or worst, condemned. The most bastardized term, “politically-correct” comes to mind.
Yet somehow, some stubborn practices still remain, appearing like old reliables. Amusingly, some of these categorically fall into another single word and dodgy at that: tradition. I remember starting then as a young musician, I was always in awe whenever I encountered any particular piece classified as ‘traditional’. During one audition in Music class, I was criticized by my teacher as being much of a crooner rather than singer. Much later when I was for a while involved in cultural research, the same word became the clear-cut border which hinted that one tread lightly on some things you simply respect and not tinker with. But then of course, as I’ve earlier said, all things must pass, and it’s on with the new.
Interestingly enough, as if to prove a point, I happened to be privy to what transpired in a local uni. It was the occasion of the yearly entrance exams and applicants from the regions flocked to take the half-day tests. During the end of the exams, some regional participants flocked to the frontage of the school and began to take selfies. That’s bad luck, others cautioned, because one only earned the right to pose before the school’s venerated statue up front unless one were already a graduate, lest you won’t finish. In another incident, there were incidences of takers breaking pencils as finality and token of good luck.
Even as these do not necessarily fall under what we’d call as being part of tradition, like that holy word for others, the acts fall short of silly and wasteful. For one, they could have gathered all the used pencils and donated them for needy graders up in some remote school somewhere in the hinterlands. As for selfies, anytime, anywhere, be it inside a church or courtroom wherever, what of tradition, it’s open season, people and the siste is, who died and made you king?
