Real Respect Shows Up First

Real Respect Shows Up First

Jun 28 , 2025.

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself at a social gathering where strangers and old acquaintances mix in a haze of small talk and light laughter. It was meant to be forgettable, a blur of pleasantries and passing moments. But something I witnessed there stayed with me, not because it was loud or dramatic, but because it revealed something quietly unsettling about how we assign worth to people. It was a moment that exposed the mechanics of respect, how it is given, withheld, and too often delayed.

Among the guests was a woman visiting from abroad, part of the Ethiopian diaspora.

She carried herself with confidence, stylishly dressed, fluent in Amharic and English, and accustomed to attention. Her voice had the tone of someone used to being heard; she took up space with ease. People noticed her, and she seemed to enjoy being noticed.

Also present was another woman, visibly pregnant and moving with the slow grace of someone carrying both life and fatigue. Her outfit was soft and practical, her demeanour quiet and warm. She greeted people with gentle nods and kind smiles, without demanding attention. There was nothing flashy about her, only a quiet presence.

At one point, the pregnant woman rose to get some water and crossed paths with the visiting guest. She greeted her with a warm smile and a polite hello. The visitor barely looked up, gave a brief nod, and turned away. It was not loud or confrontational, just a cold shoulder that spoke volumes.

Later, in the usual way these gatherings fragment, people began breaking off into smaller circles. Someone nearby mentioned the pregnant woman’s name and her professional accomplishments. The visitor’s ears perked up immediately, her eyes widening with recognition. Suddenly, everything about her posture changed.

The visitor repeated the woman’s name aloud, this time with familiarity and interest.

She leaned in, her voice softer, more admiring, as she confirmed the pregnant woman’s identity. What followed was a full performance of warmth, greetings, compliments, animated conversation. Gone was the aloofness; in its place stood a woman eager to connect.

But the pregnant woman had not changed. She had not said anything new, or altered her appearance, or revealed a hidden talent. Only one thing had shifted: the visitor now knew her resume. And with that knowledge, her respect suddenly appeared, too late to be real.

What was revealed in that moment was not just a social misstep, but a troubling pattern many of us have seen before. Respect is withheld until a person’s achievements are revealed. Dignity offered not instinctively, but transactionally. It is a kind of social calculation that asks: “Are you worth my attention?”

We see this all the time, people assessing value by titles, not by character. They ask, “What do you do?” before they ask, “How are you?” They scan for prestige, status, or opportunity before showing warmth. And often, they offer their best manners only when they believe someone can offer them something in return.

The tragedy is not just in individual moments like these; it is in the pattern they create. The default becomes indifference until someone proves they are “somebody.” And by the time recognition arrives, it feels more like a correction than a connection. It is a respect that feels rehearsed, not real.

Real respect is not reactive. It does not need a title or a backstory. It does not require someone to impress first. It simply sees people as people.

This is not a call to flatter strangers or fake admiration. It is about making dignity the baseline. Offering a smile, a kind response, and a moment of presence. Not because someone might be important, but because they already are.

You can feel the difference. The visitor’s sudden admiration, however well-intentioned, rang hollow. It was not rooted in the woman’s presence; it was unlocked by her portfolio. And that makes all the difference.

People are not LinkedIn profiles in motion. They carry stories, pain, wisdom, and resilience, none of which are visible at first glance. The woman standing quietly in the corner might be holding the weight of the world and still choosing grace. She should not need to hand out a résumé to earn basic decency.

Respect is most meaningful when it arrives early, before credentials are revealed. It is what we show to the person clearing our table and the one sitting at the head of it. It is eye contact, sincerity, and presence. It is choosing to value humanity over hierarchy.

We live in a world that trains us to network, to leverage, to perform. But people can feel when they are being sized up for usefulness. They know when your kindness is conditional. And that knowledge creates distance, not connection.

There is nothing more transparent than respect that comes too late. And nothing more powerful than respect that comes without being asked for. We do not need to know someone’s qualifications to be kind. We do not need to be impressed to be respectful.

If we want to be people who build trust, who create safety, who foster belonging, then respect must come first. Not earned, not negotiated, but offered. Freely, instinctively, and sincerely. Because how we treat people before we know their resume says everything about who we are.

PUBLISHED ON Jun 28,2025 [ VOL 26 , NO 1313]