The Beauty of Etiquette

 

Last winter, I had the exquisite opportunity to attend a concert in Denver with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra and the colossally virtuosic Itzhak Perlman soloing on violin. The tickets were a Christmas gift to my youngest son, a 2025 graduate of Liberty Common High School, now in music conservatory as a violin-performance major. He considers Perlman a musical hero.

 

Perlman, 80 years old, commands respect for many reasons: His near-perfect technical mastery of the instrument, numerous awards and accolades including 16 GRAMMY® Awards, four Emmy Awards, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom, having performed for multiple U.S. presidents, the queen of England, the king of England, and the Israeli president, and for being a part of a great many inaugurations, state dinners, and music festivals throughout the world. These recognitions are made all the more impressive when one realizes Perlman, ravaged by polio at age four, has been relegated to crutches and wheelchairs for 76 years.

 

So imagine our chagrin when, once tucked safely in the concert hall and the sweet music began, the gentleman directly in front of us took out his phone and, holding it above his head, started taking endless photos with the click of his fake camera-shutter sound assailing the ears of all around him. Those in his proximity began making faces, shaking heads, and sighing loudly. Undaunted, the man continued in his quest for the perfect picture of the consummate performer. Finally, my husband leaned forward, tapped the man on the shoulder and asked him to put his phone down as it was distracting all who were sitting near. He did put his phone away and we did enjoy the rest of the concert, without further distraction.

 

While most readers probably understand the collective exasperation and offense taken by concertgoers unfortunate enough to sit near this man, we must acknowledge that no one is born understanding etiquette. It must be taught. Literally every time we are in community with others, regardless of age, station, or setting, it is the right time to set the example and teach.

 

When I taught music here at Liberty, I would give class time for students to perform a piece they were working on in piano lessons, or sing a song we had learned in the previous week’s class. While I was eager to normalize performing and taking risks, that time was perhaps even more crucial to teach the children how to be excellent audience members. We discussed giving all attention to the performer who worked hard to be prepared to entertain, and making sure we are not drawing attention toward ourselves. We don’t stand, leave, whisper, or make inappropriate noises in the middle of a performance. We always wait to go to the bathroom, blow our nose, or even cough until the performance is over and the applause begins. We show respect to the performer and to the others in the audience by being quiet and not being a distraction in any way.

 

Every time we host a performance here at Liberty, the Liberty family in attendance - parents, students, teachers, and staff - should take the opportunity to model and teach what good audience etiquette looks like. Do you have small children? Sit on the end or in the back so you can easily excuse yourself if they start making noise. Are you there early? Remind your students that, although this room might be where you have physical-education class by day, it is now a performance hall, and we do not run or scream in a performance hall. Remind students to be quiet and still, to appropriately applaud at the end of performances, to wait until the applause to get up for any reason. Being at a performance is a privilege, and not attending is a definite option if concert etiquette is not followed. Leaving and going home was always an appropriate option when my children were small. And they knew it.

 

So, as we get into the meat of this 2025-2026 school year, and we begin to see talent shows, movie nights, grade-level concerts, and choir, band, and orchestra performances at all levels, let’s all rally around our students and help them to grow and learn how to be the kind of respectful and thoughtful audience members we would be all happy to sit near. 

 

As an aside, this is not just an age thing. The gentleman in front of us at the Denver concert hall was at least two decades my senior, and clearly needed a bit of training, even at his age. But, we do our students a disservice when we don’t immediately correct inappropriate behavior, regardless of their age.

 

One of the things I love about the Liberty community is that we are a family, and family is always ready to assist in the training of the children who belong to that family. We can work together to help our students become people who can thoroughly enjoy the beauty of a sublime performance, who can pursue the beautiful in a way that those who have not been properly trained in etiquette cannot, and who can lead by example in showing respect and deference to those who deserve it whether they’ve been performing for 70 years or seven months. We can train them to put the needs of others before their own.

 

As the last note from Mr. Perlman’s violin faded into the hushed mile-high air, the concert hall erupted in raucous and jubilant applause. Everyone in attendance jumped to their feet and roared their appreciation for a full five minutes without ceasing. Mr. Perlman left the stage on his motorized scooter and returned twice because the audience refused to cease their exuberant approval of this singular moment in each spectator's life. They knew they would never experience this moment again. They knew it was once-in-a-lifetime. I turned to my son and was surprised to find he had tears in his eyes. He was overwhelmed that he had seen a performance by a true master who has had a profound impact on his life and his choice to pursue music-making as a career. He acknowledged Mr. Perlman’s advanced age meant he was unlikely to see him live in concert ever again. This moment was made all the more profound because those around him allowed him to enjoy it freely and without distraction. Eventually. 

 

Liberty Common School provides one of the best education offerings a student can receive. Justice Clarence Thomas is cited as having said, “Good manners will open doors that the best education cannot.” Imagine the doors that open when a student possesses both.