Elitist, they said. The quote was this: “He who would be a man must be a nonconformist.” The remark bespoke not the proud nonconformity of Thoreau, who, during his Walden phase, used to come to the Emersons for a good meal and to do his laundry. Nor was Ralph Emerson’s nonconformity of the flashy contrarian sort, worn as a martyr’s badge. It seemed humble and quietly courageous. So I’ve made a list of a few nonconformities central to e.
For example, I refuse to wear the requisite death mask of solemnity when I walk the streets of a big city. If I wish to say good morning to a New Yorker, Londoner or Atlantan, I will do so. A pragmatic, civilized use of free speech if you ask me.
Second, I will not mind my own business. What is humanity if not people looking after one another?
Next, I will not embrace meanly stated politics even when they support my own sensibilities. If I find myself in agreement with a demagogue, I will still disrespect his coercive style and dismiss him.
The thing is that each of us, at one time or another, will find oneself alone in an opinion, be the forum at a town meeting or a dinner table. Heaven knows it is difficult to disagree with someone who is serving you shrimp cocktail. Better to conform and eat the shrimp. Only, sometimes you can’t. Conformity is always feasible but not always palatable. Emerson seemed to know that, and it’s why I quote him.
You grab for what wisdom you can, whether from a philosopher or a fishmonger. And if anyone calls you elitist, challenge him to wrestle. It’ll get your thrown out of some of the better homes but it refutes the charge of elitism.
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