I was around ten years old and I remember watching my fourteen year-old sister gather a pile of leaves on the ground in our front yard. I stood out on the porch and asked her what she was doing and she just gave me this confused and bothered look that instinctively told me to stop asking questions. Secretly wanting to join in, I continued to watch as she finished off the pile. All of a sudden, my urge to partake in this little activity dropped. She jumped up and down in place three times, and all of a sudden she took off, running around to the back of the house. Before I could even yell out “what are you doing” she was back around from the other side. She even kept going, and she circled the house a total of three times. Hmm, now what was going on? My sister refused to talk about it, my dad had no idea what it could be, but when I asked my mother, her face lit up, “Oh! Good for her!”
“What was she doing?” I asked.
“Well, when you’re older, when you are becoming a woman **wink wink** you’re going to do the same thing. You have to, it’s good luck!” WHAT? I knew right there that I would not be participating in that rite of passage into puberty. No thanks.
There are others too. My mother loved telling me these little proverbs and tricks growing up that today I find hilarious. There are certain proverbs, or codes of moral behavior, that have stuck with me throughout the years. There is the classic “golden rule” principal which I turn to often, the lessons learned in Aesop fables, and that “don’t shit where you eat” rule that many people often forget to follow. While the lessons in these proverbs have stuck with me all my 22 years (my birthday is tomorrow), I grew up with a personal set of proverbs and moral codes passed down from my mother who have, for the most part, failed to alter my behavior. Some did stick with me, but others haven’t really changed or helped steer my decisions, rather they just provide a great deal of comic relief. In fact, I called my mom up just now as I write this paper to drum up some old lessons she would always try to get me to follow and we still find them all hilarious.
Now I’m not saying my mother did not instill in me good morals and values (I would like to think I possess good measures of both) because she definitely did, but some of her ideas just seem so ridiculous. Haircuts should be done before 6 pm; same with fingernails. New Years outfits should always have something polka-dotted, whether it be socks, a scarf, or a shirt, because the abundance of spots means good financial prospects in the coming year. That rule in particular ruffled a lot of feathers in my house, especially as I began to dress myself. Who wants to wear polka-dots anyway? One of my favorites (besides the Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret-esque ritual above) involves leaving a glass of water on your nightstand with a metal spoon resting in it. Apparently, if someone wants to harm you while you are sleeping, this glass of water will persuade him or her otherwise. You get the idea. My mother was superstitious to boot, and most of her ideas just seemed funny to me, they didn’t impact me enough to change my behavior.
Chip and Dan Heath explore this idea in Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die. This instruction manual of sorts teaches readers what makes certain ideas, whether they are advertisements, marketing campaigns, political campaigns, or even social movements successful enough to change consumer, voter, and citizen behavior. The Heath brothers outline six fundamental attributes of “sticky” ideas, which are understood to be true and change behavior often permanently. They tell us that in order for ideas to be understood, remembered, and have a lasting impact, they must be:
1. Simple
2. Unexpected
3. Concrete
4. Credible
5. Evoke Emotions
6. Be able to be told as a story.
My mother always scolded me if I ever put my elbow on the dinner table and rested my head in my hand. She would say, “it’s a sign that you are not appreciative of what is in front of you.” She would then go back to her childhood, and shared with me stories about how growing up in the Philippines with less means taught her to learn to appreciate the little things people take for granted like the availability of good housing, clothing, education, and in this case, food. “Be thankful,” she would say, and right away my elbow was gone. Today, I still do not lazily rest my chin in my hand because that idea has stuck with me. While the other rituals, stories, and lessons my mother tried to get across to me growing up may not have worked to the degree of which she intended, this one did. My mother had a sticky idea, and it’s one that hasn’t just taught me how to have good table manners, it has truly taught me to be thankful of everything I have, and reaching further, to understand that no matter what, life is the most precious gift. Made to Stick was a truly enjoyable read for me because it really hit home. It provided an explanation for why I laughed at certain rituals my mother would try to teach me, and why others, like the dinner-table scenario above worked. The simplicity of it, the unexpectedness, the concreteness, the credibility, the emotions, and finally the stories behind the idea were all there when she first swatted my elbow away. The other ideas didn’t have it, but this particularly sticky one changed my behavior permanently, and that I am thankful for.
