A certain culture of complimentary impossibility has impressed me with a deep sense of disappointment, for which I cannot help but remonstrate my common man and woman. It is the elusive well-accepted compliment, something a straight man at Dartmouth is almost banned by social norms to give seamlessly in conversation.
A compliment is a strange creature; its intentions are often well masked by its creator. Much like a blitz the morning after, poring over one small laudatory phrase can sour pleasant discourse and turn a mind to a monster of inference. Reading too far into compliments can render them wasted, or worse, too seriously taken. There is nothing more irksome than a friend who loses faith in a platonic relationship because of childishly perceived "she/he likes me" vibes. This isn't middle school anymore, so put down the Ring Pops and "omigod, like" appreciate it at face value.
Even the slightest acknowledgement of an improvement in physical appearance is placed upon the thin blade of the double-edged sword of sexual ideology.
The majority of the men I compliment have trouble accepting praise as a friendly gesture of encouragement. In a culture focused on the public certainty of sexual identity, it is hard for the machismo bro to thank his pong partner for appreciating the color coordination of his shirt and trousers. Would it strike you as odd if I told you that you looked good today? Probably, unless I used words like "pimpin'" to emphasize your ultimate reason to look attractive: to attract babes, you supremely heterosexual being, you. Even if I get called "gay" as a jocular response to my praise, the fact that a genuine compliment yields such low-brow humor proves the existence of a continuing stigma about the practice.
For many ladies, the culture of hedonistic hookups has made them wary of the Dartmouth man, and rightly so. However, they are not liberated from the bonds of social responses either. If I call them pretty, or say I like their hair that day, many assume I'm hitting on them. I'm not; don't flatter yourself.
And for many girls, if their girl friends compliment them, they often seem almost compelled to humbly denigrate themselves as if to accommodate laudatory input. Say "thank you" and appreciate their thoughtfulness.
If the latest sex survey is right ("Rules of the Game," May 11), and confidence is attractive, then let's make each other confident. If compliments are genuine and truly meant, they are positive for the giver and the receiver. However, false praise is worthless and can push the ego market into bloated stagflation. Do it genuinely and it becomes part of emotionally salubrious interaction. Many people here aren't getting the encouragement they deserve. Your peers are your only family, your only friends and your only companions. Without a healthy emotional environment, self-confidence must come from its possessor alone. We consider ourselves adults, but even the aged need someone to affirm their value as a friend and person.
And in a Kerouac-inspired stream of consciousness, I present a few compliments for my readers. Consider your immediate response to reading them: Jay, you're the nicest person on campus. Matt, you're the most eligible '10 bachelor. Louis, your recent haircut makes you look excellent. Caroline, I like those earrings.
It is not unlikely that your gut responses to these preceding lines has made you question my intentions as the complimenter and my sexual orientation. Isn't it strange for a guy to say these things to someone publicly? Isn't it extremely awkward for the aforementioned few? Especially when physical appearance is in play, my intentions can often be assumed to be the basest. (Quid est demonstrata.)
But they shouldn't be. Praise is healthy and important. People take compliments to heart, a place where very few things at Dartmouth find themselves. Our emotional equilibrium rests within the hands of our few peers, and yet they are often ruled by the harsh limits of social normative behavior. Break free. Extol your friends. Tell someone they look good today, or tell them that you appreciate their company. See how they react. Perhaps they'll say "thanks" and really mean it and that will be all that it is.
