Stubborn

The other day a quote from our second President, the irascible John Adams, came across my fb feed (ever the history nerd, one of the sites I follow is Plodding Through the Presidents).  The quote was “Thanks be to God, that He gave me stubbornness when I know I am right.”

I immediately shared this with my siblings, laughing as I texted, who does this remind you of?  Only our entire family.  Grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins.  The whole shebang.  This is a trait that is so dominant in that side of our family, that an uncle who married into the family used to say, “You can tell a Morroney, but you can’t tell them much.” (Morroney being my maiden name).

When I referenced that uncle’s comment in the text, my one brother responded with, “No, it’s ''You can tell a Morroney something, but you can’t tell them much”.    See how this works?

And what is so interesting about this family trait is the complete authority and confidence we all have when we make a statement.  We say whatever it is with all the certainty of a learned professor who has spent their whole life studying a particular topic.

Example:  My sister, niece, and I were in NYC one day and we saw a bunch of people lining the street waving these blue and white flags.

“Oh, it looks like a parade is starting,” I said.  “What country is that flag,” I ask? 

My sister, quick with her response, and with full authority and confidence, replies, “Norway.”  No hesitation. No doubt.  No googling. It’s Norway. 

My niece and I are uncertain, and are like, “Really?” My sister is brilliantly smart, a former librarian who is a font of knowledge, so we were inclined to believe her.

“Yes,” she says, “Norway.” 

The parade began and we saw the people in the parade approaching us.  Wearing kilts.  Playing bagpipes. 

“Umm, yeah.  Not Norway.  That would be Scotland.” 

In the face of the obvious that argument was easily put to rest.  And we laughed hysterically about it and in fact, still laugh about it today.  Whenever we see a flag , any flag, when we are together, we say, “Oh look, it’s Norway.”

Imagine a houseful of Italian-Americans, call it around close to 50 people with all the aunts, uncles, cousins on any given Sunday all convinced that they are right on any given topic of any given conversation.  All before the era of smartphones where most disputes could be resolved easily with a quick google search.  Nope.  We didn’t have that luxury.  I’m kind of glad we didn’t.  Less fun that way. 

Some of the aunts and uncles who married into the family had developed their own coping mechanisms. Aunt Jo would sit quietly, smile, and not engage.  Uncle Bud would try to avoid being there in the first place.  Uncle Dick, he who coined the ’you can’t tell a Morroney much’ phrase would strap on some armor and enter the fray like he was born into the family.

Myself? I am well aware that I have inherited this trait.  Isn’t self-awareness the first step on any growth journey?  Self-management is the second, and in my opinion, the more difficult step. 

Some of my former coworkers, one in particular (hello Christine), who may be reading this, are nodding their head vociferously right now, and know full well that I still have a long way to go on the self-management step. 

Which leads me to wonder, given how entrenched this trait is among my extended family, is stubbornness a result of nature or nurture? Are we born with it? Or do we acquire it from the environment in which we are raised? A combination of the two?

Looking to my own nuclear unit family, I have two kids.  My husband falls fairly high on the stubborn scale, though not quite approaching Morroney level.  Of our two children, one has it.  One does not.

My conclusion? It must be nature.  A trait with which you are born.

And don’t even waste your time trying to convince me otherwise.