Friday, Lafayette, Indiana

I spend many nights throughout the year in hotels. They range from the humble chains through the most elegant, upscale resorts. In what seems to be the majority of cases the staff fall into two distinct categories. The front desk people are frequently attractive individuals, mostly young women. When I chat with them, not surprisingly most are college educated and career oriented. They are groomed, trained and professional and interact with me as peers.

In contrast, the food and service staff are poor local people. And they are overwhelmingly Latino or Philippino. And virtually everyone who has cleared my plate at the restaurant or delivered room service to me is quiet and obsequious. In my experience the hispanic staff are unflaggingly polite and the humility of their demeanor is easy to take for granted. They seem invisible. When I pass the lady at her room cleaning cart in the hallway she smiles and nods.

The difference between the deference shown by the Latino service workers and the bolder attitude of American workers is just startling. Now perhaps in some cases it is motivated by fear about legal status and discovery by the authorities. I’m sure I have been around illegal immigrants unaware. But I certainly don’t believe illegal status is the principal motivator for the prevalent servant’s humility they overwhelmingly radiate. I believe it is cultural and represents their values and how they are raised. I believe this because this is exactly how I was raised by my parents.

Certainly I have risen to a high level of socioeconomic status, taking maximum advantage of the opportunity of our great country. I have an outstanding education and engaging career. I am not wealthy, but live in comfort and relish the meaningful work I do. Nonetheless I retain the values my working class parents and the nuns who backed them up demanded of me. Acknowledging a power beyond myself and loving my neighbor remain guiding principals that I unevenly apply.

While I relate to the privilege and expectations of the young professionals at the front desk, I feel a connection, sometimes self-consciously, to the woman my age making the bed in my room. Something very important is lost when, in the midst of our striving and accumulation our empathy dissipates. It seems that we are on this track.

How quickly we are being diminished by our misplaced expectations and sense of entitlement. Do we believe it is our birthright to be served by others? Are we losing our collective sense of humility and a willingness to serve others without equitable return? Is the thought of living as a servant so repugnant to the modern American spirit that we feel we couldn’t survive or have meaning?

It’s the age of the entitled and the obnoxious. I’m confident we will survive the sass and the arrogance. But it’s not a world in which I especially like living.

Buenos Dios.