A while ago, my nine-year-old grandson encountered a playground bully. Whenever the small-time ruffian came near, he called my boy something foul, transforming the sound of his name. My grandson was at a loss. He isn’t a born fighter and knows that starting a battle is off-limits. So he has been taught, so he believes.

A few days later, the tormenter-in-training did the same thing, laughing along the way. However, this time, one of my grandchild’s friends overheard it. He stood up to the neighborhood tough guy and asked why he was making fun of his classmate. No explanation followed. The big fellow acquiesced when the buddy told him to stop.

This is an oft-told tale. Thus goes many a boy’s life, but there is a twist. My grandson wrote a paper about it to complete a school assignment. The story ended by saying that he hoped he would act as his friend did if he ever encountered a bully taking advantage of someone else.

As you can imagine, I am proud of my sweet, thoughtful, and decent grandchild for a thousand things, including this statement.

Think about names. Who owns them? I’d like to believe they are the property of the one who has been named. First names are given by parents and therefore called “given names.” The last name or family name comes after the given one.

Sir, an English designation of respect, derives from the word Sire. One’s Sire was his King, but more often a feudal lord: a noble who held land and gave his vassal a portion in return for his service.

The sirs and the sires go way back. Knights were called sir as long ago as 1297. So far back, it was before I was born. I think.

These days, at least in the United States, we have left such respectful forms of address in the trash heap. Upon meeting a new person or receiving a call from a business or charity, it is no surprise if they address you by your first name from the get-go. May I speak with Estelle?

Estelle and the rest of us would do well to correct the speaker, though I must admit I rarely do so myself.

Gone are the days when sir or madam were automatically expected and used in making contact with an adult. Gone are Mr. or Ms. or Mrs. or Miss. Respect has fallen without a fight. Casualness and presumption have taken its place.

The one who calls you by your first name or your nickname now becomes the partial owner of the word: your designation. No matter your age, your level of education, or how you wish to be addressed, you are assigned the word preferred by someone else.

Name callers.

The other doesn’t know you, might be a teen, and may even be unaware that he is being disrespectful.

Other than the President of the United States, no one can be certain what he will be called when someone speaks to him. Perhaps clergy members receive the courtesy of being designated by their position if they wear clerical garb.

Many believe living in an informal, classless society is better than a formal one. Inequalities manifest themselves nonetheless. Civility—formal politeness, courtesy, and consideration in the routine of daily life—has eroded. 

Chief Executives dismiss their lower-level associates with computerized form letters announcing the end of their employment. Some heads of state refer to disfavored minorities as trash, rapists, and thieves, stereotyping a race or a place of origin. Remember the phrase “shithole countries?” That ugly expression was applied to a continent.

History tells us that numbers can replace names. Tattooed numbers.

Respect for another is too often a one-way street, where one’s boss is treated with high regard, but workers are unseen, exchangeable, replaceable, and perhaps pushed aside by artificial intelligence. They are thus objectified, a matter of dollars and cents. Too expensive, too old, and disposable. 

On a recent appointment with a talented dentist, I heard him refer to his female employees as “the girls.” Two of the women were past 60, while he was under 40. 

Even name-tagged checkers and cashiers usually find their names ignored. How do I know? I’ve asked them.

Watch out when you lose control of your name, title, or whatever you prefer to be called. Watch out when you are not called sir, madam, Mr., Ms., or Mrs. Watch out when you are not called coach, lieutenant, doctor, officer, mother, or father.

Show respect if you wish to live in a respectful world and enlarge yourself thereby. Hold your head high. Respect may yet return.

Today’s bullies have not grown beyond their playground days. They betray their cowardice and extend their reach by wearing the darkness of the internet.

To the good, the sacred stands opposite the profane. Even my nine-year-old grandchild knows there are things more important in life than Christmas toys, money, and might over right.

My boy would tell you that he hopes to grow up and defend people who can’t protect themselves.

Martin Luther King would smile.

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The two Paul Klee paintings are sourced from Wikiart.org. The first is New Angel, from 1920, and the second is Black Knight, from 1937.