The other day in Relief Society (third hour of church for just the women in the congregation that are over 18) our lesson was on Work and Personal Responsibility. People shared their thoughts on being actively engaged in a career, the sacred work of motherhood, and the importance of work in relation to well being. Being raised in a family where we were taught to work at a very young age, I admit that I was almost shocked at some of the responses that some of the mothers in the ward (congregation) were giving. I remember working at a very young age--pulling weeds in the garden, hauling rocks, mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges. I remember washing dishes, sweeping floors, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming the living room, and helping to organize the basement (yes, it was organized at one point). I remember selling shaved ice in the summer, helping my dad cater luaus, working at the Orem Summer Fest, and practicing the hula so we could perform. I remember helping with food deliveries, visiting my parents' older friends that didn't get out much, babysitting, babysitting, and more babysitting.
I learned to work and I worked a lot. I wasn't asked if I wanted to work. I wasn't even asked what I wanted to do. I was told to do it and was expected to do it. I wasn't left to my own devices either. Not only was I shown how to get the job done, but also, my parents worked alongside me. Yes, there was complaining. Yes, there were times when I HATED my life. I remember many summer mornings sitting on a pile of lava rocks in the back yard, crying while I had to pull weeds out from among the thorny rose bushes while spiders and other creepy crawly insects brushed against my bare legs. But it wasn't the end of the world. I made it through. And those days of hard work were often rewarded with a fun treat, outing, or even cash.
Only with age and exposure to other people's growing-up stories, do I realize how lucky I am to have the parents that I do. They taught me an invaluable principle and work ethic and I will be forever grateful for that.
Some of the women in Relief Society were wondering how to teach their children the value of work. They don't want to give their kids too much responsibility because they're kids are "SO BUSY", they don't know how to delegate, they would rather skip the complaining and do it themselves...because after all, it would be faster and the quality would be better. But honestly? Is that really how you want to raise your kids? Do you want to teach them that other people will take care of their messes because of lack of time? Do you want to send your children off to college without the knowledge of how to do laundry, make a bed, wash dishes, or keep a clean house? Do you want to teach your kids that they don't have to shoulder any sort of responsibility in a familial setting...just because you don't want to hear them complain? These types of responses scare me and anger me at the same time. We wonder why children feel entitled and why there are so many societal problems. I would venture to say that much of that comes because these younger generations (I sound old now) have not learned the value of work and the tremendous amount of satisfaction that comes from a job well done. And don't even get me started on the invaluable skills acquired while you work!
I realize that I am not a parent. My time is my own. I don't have to maintain a household outside of myself. I don't have kids that complain, throw tantrums, or make a bigger mess while attempting to help. But I still maintain that parents have a sacred responsibility to teach this very principle. And quite honestly? There are parents who do it...then and now.
So if your kids start to cry and throw a tantrum....let them cry. If your kids' lives are too busy with soccer practice, piano lessons, ballet, and any other sort of extracurricular activity, free up an hour or two and drop one of those lessons. Teaching your children the value of work will have a bigger payoff than a little league trophy. I guarantee you that.
End of rant.
7 comments:
You are so right, Malia. It is worth it in the end. And someday the kids hopefully will be as wise as you and realize their parents taught them something important.
Our growing up was very similar in that we learned to work-no matter what. I do miss the days of you guys selling shaved ice though and your dad's great cooking.
I agree with you that the younger generations don't know how to work. They want instant results for any effort they put it and have no patience. I HATED having chores and spending saturday mornings cleaning but I'm grateful for it now.
I totally remember those days (we were usually in our yards doing chores at the same time). I do miss the days of your families shaved ice though...(and your dad's amazing cooking)
The younger generations want everything with putting little or no effort towards anything. They put no value in anything because so much is given to them. Parents are afraid to make their kids work for something. While I hated it as a kid I'm so grateful for that upbringing now.
Nice. Sometimes I tell my kids, "You're talking to the wrong mom. I grew up on a farm." :-)
I figure if you never hear your kids say "You're the meanest mom in the world", it means you're not asking them to do enough.
It must have been the neighborhood, because I remember those same experiences!! As of now, my kids still think it's cool and fun to help me in the garden and (though it is often NOT very helpful) I let them and even encourage them to help when they want to. I know soon enough they won't find it so fun any more! I agree with Christie's "meanest mom" sentiment! Good post, Malia. I always loved and admired your parents, even when you had to finish picking all the dandelions before you could play! :)
When I was a kid, my mom required I work in the yard every day for several hours, all through summer. I spent many summers working with my hands. Eventually, when the yard work was done, I started painting, tiling, putting up drywall, and anything else that needed to be done. At first, I hated, nay, despised the fact that while I had to work, my friends were out playing. But at some point I learned to love the work. Today, I am so grateful to my mother for teaching me the value of hard work.
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