May I Help?

Originally a blog entry...

"A helping hand is only handy when it's helping."  Rob G. ~Led by the Master~

How often have we heard a child ask:  'May I help?'

I used to ask that of my parents all the time:

"May I help make cookies?"

"No.  I'm in a hurry and you'll be in the way."

"May I help set the table?"

"No.  You're clumsy and I don't want you to break my dishes."

"May I help iron?"

"No.  You'll burn your dress."

"May I help you sew?"

"No.  You'll get everything tangled up."

"May I help sew on the buttons?"

"No.  You'll poke yourself and get blood on your brother's new shirt."

"May I help feed the baby?"

"No, you're too much of a tomboy and you'll be too rough."

"May I help sort the clothes?"

"No.  You'll get something in the wrong pile and something will be ruined."

"May I help clean the bathroom?"

"No.  You'll make it a bigger mess than it already is and I'll have more work to do."

"May I help write a letter to Grandpa?"

"No.  You're handwriting is too sloppy."

"May I help fold the laundry?"

"No.  You don't fold things right so I'd have to do it all over anyhow."

"May I help dust?"

"No.  You're too slow and you'll break something."

"May I help push the baby carriage?"

"No.  You'll make it bounce and wake the baby."

"May I help cut the yard?"

"No.  You're a girl and this is hard work."

"May I help change the oil?"

"No.  You're a girl and this is a dirty job."

"May I help fix the washer?"

"No.  You're a girl and this too heavy."

"May I help set up the tent?"

"No.  You're a girl; go help your mother."

"May I help put the chain on the bike?"

"No.  You're a girl and this isn't even your bike."  Yeah; I didn't even have a bike!

"May I help... never mind.  I don't want to help anymore."

And a few short years later:

"You're a lazy bum; you never lift a finger to help around here.  You don't think about anyone but yourself, do you?  You're a selfish, lazy bum."

Hmm... I wonder why I stopped asking if I could help?

How often have you heard a child ask that question and turned them down because it would be easier, cleaner, or faster to finish the task alone?

While that may be true, each time you turn down such a request, you're also turning down the opportunity to give that child a learning experience, a moment of your time, the pleasure of working as a team, the feeling of being wanted, needed, and useful; the joy of participating in something more than just their own wants and desires.

I was turned down a lot when I asked if I could help.  True, there are times when a child can't help, but when they can, why not allow them to do so?  I may not have been able to help my father change the oil, but 'you're a girl' is no excuse.  Perhaps I couldn't fold laundry as well as my mother, but to turn away an offer of help with an insult makes it that much harder for the child to offer help the next time.  I finally lost interest and didn't ask anymore.  Then I was accused of being lazy, disinterested, selfish, and useless.  That was no surprise; I'd been told that by each rejection; my help wasn't worthy of being called 'help' because I was inadequate, not good enough, sloppy, unskilled, or 'a girl'.  I couldn't do anything about being a girl, but how was I to build skills if no one was going to take the time to teach me?  How could I get better at these skills if never given a chance to practice them?

Once it was demanded of me to put such skills to use, without being asked, it was also expected I should simply be able to walk in and do each task perfectly even though no one had taught me and I'd had no experience.  Errors were unacceptable:  leaving the floor too wet after mopping resulted in the bucket being overturned, making the job ten times more difficult.  Not dusting well enough brought powder dumped in front of the fan.  Not folding the laundry up to standard meant dresser drawers were emptied and everything had to be refolded.  Anything less than perfection was abject failure and trying didn't count for anything.

I was determined that I'd never treat my children that way. They grew up helping me with everything I had to do. I made dusting a game by decorating socks as puppets and using them as rags.  Shopping was a learning experience; mopping was a sport, vacuuming, a work of art. 

Even today my almost 16-year-old son will ask, "Do you want me to come along and help you at the grocery store?"  My reply?  "Of course.  Thank you for asking."

My 18-year old daughter sets the clock and tries to beat her best time cleaning up after dinner.

Yesterday my son vacuumed, my daughter ironed, and we made dinner together as a family.

"May I help..."

"Of course you can!  Let me show you what I'm doing and you can give it a try."

My quote here?  "Never turn down a child's offer of help. Their help may not make the job go faster, but it will be much more enjoyable and think of the skills you'll be teaching them."