Walking Barefoot

I have been washing my feet a lot lately. Every night, in fact. It has become a ritual; a way of ending the day and preparing for my night’s sleep. This is different from taking a bath or shower, where one’s feet just happen to get clean in the process. Instead, this is focused attention on just my feet, one at a time… gently, lovingly, appreciatively.

As I wash, I get to know each foot a bit better. I rub the soap between my toes, around my heel, and across the ball of my foot – which is becoming increasingly smooth and leathery. I feel the muscles that have grown stronger, now that they’re finally being used again, providing the arch support as nature intended. I check for any minor injuries and give those a bit of extra attention and care.

As I wash my left foot, I always pause at the scar on my ankle bone. It’s slightly over an inch long and at an angle that goes from my heel to my instep. For me, this scar represents the epitome of human arrogance. A physical manifestation of science and medicine believing it can improve on nature.

This scar sometimes makes me sad, sometimes angry, but mostly it makes me determined. It reminds me how disconnected people can become from nature’s design. How much we expect science, technology, and “experts” to solve our problems… and the many new problems that this path creates. How often we look for a new “fix” to an existing problem, rather than letting go of the previous fix that created it.

When faced with an incompatibility between nature and science (my foot and shoes), the doctor told my Mom that nature was at fault and needed to be altered. He could have concluded that there was something wrong with my shoes, or even all shoes, but that’s not what he was trained to do.

The unspoken motto of modern medicine is, “When in doubt, do something.” And often the more invasive the better, because at least you’re taking action, you’re trying, you’re doing your best to remedy the problem. Non-action makes doctors uncomfortable. Just go to a doctor with a problem and say “no, thanks” to all their drugs and procedures, and you’ll see what I mean. Society has also been trained to feel uncomfortable with inaction. “I have a problem. Aren’t you going to do something to help fix it?!” We have lost our faith in nature, in the human body’s ability to heal.

The idea that either doing nothing or un-doing something is often the best course of action is way too radical for most people to handle. In a society where doing nothing or doing less is considered lazy, non-productive, and shows a lack of caring, we often feel forced to take action…even if such action doesn’t help or actually makes the problem worse.

What was the human creation that caused problems for my left foot? Shoes. And the solution that science and medicine came up with to fix that problem? Alter my ankle bone to fit the shoes better.

I was nine or ten years old. Shoes regularly rubbed my left ankle bone, making it sore. Going with the accepted course of action for the period (the 1960’s), I was taken to a doctor to find a solution to this problem. The doctor concluded that my left ankle bone was too big, giving fault to my body rather than the shoes. If the bone was shaved down a bit, making it smaller, shoes would no longer rub that area – thus solving my problem. This is the course of action that was taken.

The surgery itself was not traumatic for me. Reducing the size of my ankle bone solved the specific problem I was having. Medical intervention for physical problems was accepted in our family. It’s only in hindsight that I’ve been bothered; when I look back on what the decision meant, what it says about our way of thinking, our disconnection with nature, our willingness to embrace significant intervention rather than altering or letting go of previous human creations.

It also shows how the solution that seems obvious to me now, going barefoot as much as possible, didn’t even occur to us as an option back then. I have the same problem when I try to imagine how my life would have been different if I had been homeschooled or unschooled, as we did with our own children. Clearly that never would have happened. It wasn’t even considered an option; not even a flicker of the imagination. If we can’t even imagine it, it probably won't happen.

When walking barefoot, I find the reactions I get from people to be fascinating. Frequently a person will comment that they wish they could walk barefoot, but quickly conclude that they can't for a small variety of reasons. Rather than concluding that they can't, however, if they instead asked, "What would it take for me to be able to walk barefoot?" the door to a barefoot future might start to open.

Fear of Strangers

We had just finished an errand at the newspaper office. My son, who was three or four at the time, was sitting on the top step enjoying the sunshine, while I read the paper several feet away. A man came out of the newspaper office and Lewis immediately started a conversation with him. Lewis invited him to sit down and relax on the stairs with him, which the man did. They chatted for a while about a variety of topics. Lewis invited him over to our house, and the man politely decined the invitation. Soon goodbyes were said and they both went their separate ways. What makes this incident so unusual, is that the man my son was talking to was a stranger.

As children we were regularly told not to talk to strangers. On the surface it may seem logical to instruct our children to do the same, due to a natural fear of the unknown, but let's take a closer look at it. 

First of all, do strangers truly pose that big of a threat? Sure, there are cases of abduction and molestation of children by strangers, but that is actually a very small percentage of the cases of abuse and kidnapping. A child is much more likely to be taken or abused by a relative, friend, neighbor, or trusted aquaintance. In other words, people the child knows, people who are not strangers. So to tell our children that strangers are dangerous and people we know are good, not only doesn't help them, it's just not true.

The second issue is that of making new friends - of all ages. If strangers are dangerous and you're not allowed to talk to them, how can you ever begin new friendships? And even worse, if your child is in trouble and needs help, how can he ask for it if he's not supposed to talk to strangers?

In raising our children, we tossed out the "don't talk to strangers" rule early on. Instead, we teach our children how to be careful and to trust their gut feeling if something seems wrong, regardless of whether they're talking to a stranger or to someone they know. We've eliminated the fear associated with strangers, and instead given them judgment skills they can use in all situations.

By getting rid of the fear, we are empowering our chilren. I've read more than once that if you want to minimize your chances of being the target of an attack, you should start by walking with your head up and with a confident stride. When a child is afraid of strangers, he will keep his head down to avoid eye contact, and will shy away from strangers as they pass. Without the fear, a child can greet each passerby with a smile, hold her head up, and walk in a direct and confident manner.

The other thing we gain by being accepting of strangers is a sense of community. Can you imagine a town where no one spoke to anyone they didn't know? You would have a town full of strangers who were fearful and suspicious of each other. This is the case in most large cities. Now imagine a town where everyone greeted each other with a smile and a "hello," regardless of whether they knew each other or not. After two or three meetings, perhaps a "hello" would develop into a conversation, and then maybe a friendship. Now we have a community where strangers don't remain strangers for very long.

A child's fear of strangers comes from her parents. This fear causes parents to cling tighter to their children, and to put their own peace of mind above the child's need to develop a sense of independence and confidence. We would be helping our children so much more by giving them the skills they need to be one their own, and giving them more and more opportunities to try those skills out. 

The people around us are like mirrors. If we frown and look suspiciously at them, they will do the same in return. Soon the distrust can grow and eventually turn into dislike - on both sides. If we greet others with a smile, however, we will often receive the same in return. Now the door to trust and friendship has been opened.

Talking to strangers is something my children do regularly. If they have a question while at a store or restaurant, they will walk up to the sales clerk or waitperson and ask it. If they see a person in need, they will offer a smile or even part of their allowance. If they are playing a game, they will invite those around them to join in - regardless of age. And, if a situation arises that make them nervous, whether they're with a stranger or someone they know, they know what they can do to get themselves in a safer environment.

So, take a deep breath and give your child a bit of freedom. The more faith you have in them, the more faith they will have in themselves. Gradually you can both feel comfortable with greater degrees of independence. And if you happen to see my children on the street, feel free to say "hello" to them.

This article was originally published August 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Learning to Make Choices

The subject of children and schooling frequently comes up in conversations I have with people. When they learn that we homeschool, they are often interested to find out more about it. If they also homeschool their children, it's fun to share our experiences and philosophies. But when people find out that our two girls are homeschooled and our son goes to public school, they ask why we chose to send him to public school. When I respond, "We asked him if he wanted to homeschool or go to Kindergarten,  and he chose public school," I frequently get a look of surprise and disbelief. The expression says, "How can you let a child decide for himself what's best for him?"

In my attempt to prepare my children for adulthood, I've tried to figure out what it means to be an adult. Obviously responsibility is a big factor, but what is it we're responsible for? We're responsible for the choices we make. We're responsible for how our choices affect ourselves, and the people and world around us. If you think about it, any given day is filled with one choice after another - how many times to push the snooze button on the alarm clock, whether to make lunch for your kids or let them buy it at school, whether or not to break the speed limit law to get somewhere on time, to decide where you stand on political issues, whether or not to make a large purchase, and on and on throughout each day.

If our major task as adults is to make choices, then why don't we give our children more freedom to practice and fine tune that skill? From the beginning, children usually have their choices made for them - what school to go to, religious beliefs, what activities to be involved in, which drugs are okay to take, when to have sex, which political group is the right one, and so on. If they're lucky, they may get to choose what to wear and can suggest which activities they prefer, but too often children are told what to do and what to not do until they're 18 years old. Then they're expected to magically be able to make responsible choices from then on. No wonder college students tend to get a bit crazy. They finally have the freedom they've been longing for, but very few decision making skills. So their choices aren't always responsible or beneficial, for themselves or anyone else.

Whenever possible, we try to give our three children the freedom to make their own choices; not just on what flavor ice cream they want, but on important issues like whether they feel homeschool or public school would best meet their needs. Each year we let them decide for themselves what schooling environment they would like for the following year. They are given guidelines about their choices in advance. Whichever they choose, they have to do their best and stick with it for the whole year. 

For next year, our oldest daughter has chosen to continue homeschooling and our son will be going to first grade at our local public school (although he recently informed me he plans to homeschool for second grade). Our middle daughter agonized over the choices for several months, weighing the pros and cons of each option. She has homeschooled for a year and a half, and would like to go back to our local public school for third grade, but the one year commitment had her stuck. She was afraid she might get a bad teacher and then not like school. We came to the agreement that if she had any serious problems that we couldn't resolve with the teacher or principal, we would pull her out and she could homeschool for the rest of the year. With that, she made her choice to go to public school for third grade.

By allowing our children to make important choices for themselves, they learn how to make decisions by weighing the pros and cons of each option. By giving them guidelines to which they must adhere, they learn to take responsibility for their choices. By respecting their choices, they learn that their opinion has value and that they have some control over their lives. All this gives a boost to both their self-worth and their self-esteem.

Another way to help our children learn how to make choices is to invite them to help with our adult decisions. Show them how you go about researching each side of an issue. Once you've gathered the information, write down the pros and cons of each option. Explain to them how you decide which choice is best for you. Show them how you choose between political candidates, whether to vote for or against a proposition, whether or not to take out a loan to buy a new car or house, why you choose to support local stores rather than large chains, how you decide when it's necessary to see a doctor, and so on.

Open up the communication. Talk about things that are largely considered taboo - like death and funerals, sex and sex-related issues, and even finances. In a Human Sexuality class I took a few years ago, our instructor asked us to guess what people are most reluctant to talk about. Rape, incest, child molestation, homosexuality, sexual fantasies - these were all thrown out and to each the instructor replied, "Nope. They'll talk about all that. What they won't talk about," he finally told us, "is their finances." How can we expect our children to make sound financial decisions if no one is even talking about it, let alone showing them how to do it? Show your kids how much money you make, what your rent or mortgage payments are, and what all your other expenses are. Work together on making up a budget and sticking to it. Save up for a vacation together or plan a family purchase that can be enjoyed by all.

In addition to improving your child's decision making skills and giving him some control over his life, the fact that the activity is your child's choice allows him to do it willingly. Since going to school is my son's choice, he realizes that based on that choice, he needs to go to bed earlier and get up earlier than his sisters. He's going to school because he wants to, so he enjoys it more and learns more.

As adults we know how good it feels to have control over the direction of our lives and to have our choices respected. Children are no different. Let them practice the decision making skills they will need as adults. While giving them as much freedom as possible, establish some guidelines so their choices are within the boundaries of the law and respectful of your needs and limitations. Then respect their choices. Some choices will be better than others, but they will appreciate the good and learn from the bad, just like we all do. Then, just maybe, when they get to be college age and one of their freedom-crazy friends says, "Let's go get some cheap wine, drive around, and T.P. someone's house," your child (who has learned to think for herself) might say, "Why? I don't see the value in it, and that wouldn't be respectful of myself or the people and world around me." Well, who knows. It could happen.

This article was originally published July 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Follow Your Own Drumbeat

When it comes to my children's artistic endeavors, I am frequently a source of frustration for them. When they bring one of their creations to me and ask how I like it, I always respond, "How do you like it?" "Mom, why do you always say that?" my son will exclaim in an exasperated tone. I will then remind him that my opinion about his efforts doesn't matter. What's important is whether or not he's satisfied with what he's done. If there's some aspect of his work he wants to improve, I'll gladly help him do it. But if he's satisfied with his accomplishment, then so am I.

So, what's the harm in telling my kids my opinion about their work? If I tell my child I dislike her drawing, or if I criticize some aspect of it, she would be crushed; and rightly so. What she would hear is that she's not good enough. If I tell her I like it, there's two problems. First, I'm creating a dependence on my approval, which is something I don't want to do. I want my children to be satisfied with meeting their own expectations, rather than constantly trying to please others. Secondly, if my child is not completely satisfied with it herself, she may take my compliment as something coming from a mother blinded by love (which is probably true), or she might think I wasn't looking very closely at her drawing, otherwise I would have seen what was bothering her about it. Either way, my opinion does not help the situation at all. The bottom line is that my opinion is irrelevant.

Rather than having my child's work presented to me expecting to receive my seal of approval, I would prefer to have my child tell me about her drawing. Why did she choose the subject matter? Was she trying to tell a story? How did she use her tools to create the look she wanted? What about color - were they randomly selected or is there some meaning to them? To work hard on something, put your heart and soul into it, and then have some other person determine whether it's good or bad, just doesn't make sense to me. Having my child tell me about her creation is infinitely more beneficial, for both of us, than my telling her whether or not I like it. 

Judgment is far too commonplace in our society. We get graded in school, performance reviews at work, there are winners and losers in most of our recreational activities, and we often willingly enter contests to have our abilities compared to others and rated. Judgment is so much a part of our lives that we too often value other people's opinions over our own. When we constantly look to others to tell us what to do, how to do it, and whether or not we're good enough at it, we pretty soon stop thinking for ourselves. This is not what I want for my children.

We all try out a variety of skills over the course of our lives. We may learn to draw, play an instrument, sew, dance, fix our plumbing, or develop photographs. But we have the freedom to choose which ones we want to learn about in depth, and which ones we just want some basic skills in. If all you want to do is fix your toilet, you don't need to become a master plumber. Just because you like to play the piano, doesn't mean you have to become a concert pianist. However, if you find you truly enjoy sewing and want to improve your skills to a professional level, that's your choice. No one else should be telling you which skills you should pursue for fun and which ones you should strive to excel in. That's a personal decision that only you should make.

Children have a right to that same freedom and respect. If they want to draw, their skills should meet their own standards. They can choose to do it just for fun, or work to refine and perfect their technique. By encouraging our children to judge their own work, rather than relying on someone else's opinion, they learn to analyze, problem solve, and get in touch with their own goals and interests, rather than feeling inferior or defensive in response to someone's opinion. When we respect and support our children's choices, we are teaching them to trust and value their own feelings and perspective.

This is why I answer their question with a question. When asked, "Do you like my drawing?" and I reply, "How do you like it?" my oldest daughter will sometimes say, "But I want your opinion." To this I respond, "Who's opinion is more important - yours or mine?" She knows the answer I expect from this, and so replies with a smile, "Mine." I may be their mother, but each of my children have to decide for themselves what they need to keep their lives happy, interesting, and fulfilling. They may as well start figuring it all out now.

This article originally published March 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Role Models

Recently I got into a discussion of role models with my children's dentist. Our family was embarking on a cross-country trip that would include a visit to Washington, DC. He commented that it's too bad there weren't any good role models today like George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and Thomas Jefferson. He felt that Bill Clinton and George Bush just didn't cut it like the folks from days gone past.

This got me thinking about the whole concept of role models. What is a role model anyway? The dictionary defines it as "an individual who serves as a model in a particular behavioral role for another individual to emulate." So for a child, a role model is someone they want to be like when they grow up. They can follow this person's pre-made path, rather than forging their own new one. It's a safe and socially acceptable route to take, so long as you find a good role model.

The three good role models our dentist mentioned all have one major thing in common ...they're all dead. Being dead helps them make the "good" category for two reasons. First, they can't make any more mistakes. And secondly, society tends to be kinder to the dead than to the living. We usually remember the good things about a person who has died, and forgive or overlook any past transgressions.

People who are still alive have a lot more trouble reaching and staying in the good category. One problem is that they can still make mistakes, which can instantly turn them into a bad role model. Another problem is that, as a society, we tend to notice and remember the flaws of a living person, rather than their good points (and the media doesn't help us at all to overcome this tendency).

So, even if you manage to attain the title of a good role model, like many entertainment and sports stars do, it doesn't take much to turn you permanently into a bad one. Pete Rose is one that always comes to mind when I try to figure all this out. He was an amazing baseball player with several record breaking accomplishments. He did a lot of charitable work with kids, and was well respected and admired. Then news of his gambling problem surfaced. It was like all his past achievements were now tarnished, and there were even doubts as to whether or not he would still be admitted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

We learn that a good role model cannot have any bad traits. But since this is not possible - no one is perfect and no one is all good - then we must admit that a good role model is an illusion. Movie company executives have known this for years. There is no end to the stories and biographies that tell of painstaking efforts taken to present an actor or actress to the public as someone who is all good and pure. The actor was watched very closely, and any transgression he/she may have committed was immediately covered up and washed over. 

Musicians can sometimes receive the same treatment. The Beach Boys are a classic example. They were portrayed as clean-cut, all-American teenage boys. Any problems they had were kept secret from their many young fans. Then Dennis Wilson died after falling off his docked boat into the water, and drowned because he was too drunk to swim to safety. News of his history of alcoholism and womanizing hit the press, and the clean-cut, all-American image was shattered.

The message we are ultimately giving to our children is that to be classified as good, you have to either be perfect, which isn't possible, or be very good at hiding your bad side.

It would be much more helpful to show our children how to be proud of their accomplishments and learn from their mistakes. Mistakes can be equally as valuable as successes when looked at in the proper light. You can choose to keep your errors in judgment private, but you don't need to hide them, and you certainly shouldn't have to feel ashamed of them.

Rather than teaching our kids how to judge and classify people, we can show them how to appreciate the positive aspects of a person and learn from the negative. Instead of throwing out Pete Rose's entire lifetime achievements, we can acknowledge and respect his athletic talent and his charitable work, and still discuss with our children the problems compulsive gambling can create.

Take a look at the people close to you. Perhaps Aunt Mary does a lot of volunteer and charity work, but frequently yells at her children because she's so busy she has no patience or energy left. Maybe a neighbor boy is an excellent student and very polite, but was recently caught shoplifting. Neither Aunt Mary nor the neighbor boy should be classified as bad because of their mistake. They are still good people, but may need some help working through a problem area.

Our world is not black and white. We are a variety of colors and shades. It is unfair to categorize people into good or bad. We are all varied combinations of the two. We can make a bad choice, and then fix it and continue in a good direction. Rather than finding a role model for our children to imitate, let them look at the wonderful variety of personalities and talents, and allow them to pick and choose the best of each. By letting them know that mistakes are a natural part of life, they can treat them as healthy learning experiences, rather than skeletons in a closet.

This article was originally published December 1994 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Cooperative Allowance

You should never pay your children to do tasks around the house. They should learn that helping with the household chores is part of being in a family. If you pay them, it will discourage them from helping out at all, unless there is some sort of reward.

This is a theory that I have read again and again in many parenting books and magazines. It made sense to me, and so I incorporated it into our family's allowance program. I decided to make my children's allowance based on their age, rather than household chore performance. Our three children received a monthly allowance of one dollar per year of age. Helping around the house was encouraged, but not required. It was my intention to instill a sense of cooperation and family teamwork in my children. Once in place, I concluded, they would willingly and spontaneously pitch in and do the dishes, pick up their toys, or help with the laundry.

My goal with the allowance was strictly to help them learn how to manage money. When we went to the stores, they needed to look at the price tags, allow for sales tax, and then go to the cashier to complete their transaction. I was also trying to teach them how to save money. As soon as they could sign their name, I took them to the bank so they could open a savings account.

My money management goal progessed reasonably well, although we're still working on the saving money part. The helping around the house plan, however, was a total flop. The kids helped around the house whenever they were inspired to, which was so infrequently that I was usually overwhelmed with delight when they did. If I asked for help, I regularly got arguments or complaints - or both! Since it was easier to do it myself than to debate the issue, I often went ahead and cleaned up their messes. If I told my children to clean up an obvious "kid mess," they would each give me their version of the "I didn't do it, so I won't clean it up" argument.

In some ways, I think I preferred doing it myself. I could be assured it would be done the way I liked it, and I didn't have to nag anyone. Also, when I was cleaning the kids' bedroom, I could throw out a lot of junk. If they were there helping, everything I had tossed into the trash would have been pulled right back out. Over the years, however, it began to seem like I was being taken for granted. At first I thought it was my imagination, but I soon confirmed that our house was getting messier faster after each cleaning. My family had gotten so used to me cleaning up after them, that they began to stop cleaning up after themselves altogether.

Every so often I would get fed up, go into my kids' bedroom with a large trash bag, and begin throwing everything on the floor into the trash. In response to their panic and outrage, I would tell them that if they really valued these items, they would treat them better. If they dropped them on the floor and walked on them, that sounded like trash to me. After everyone calmed down, I would tell them that I just needed some help with the housework. We would go through the bag together and separate out the real trash from their more precious possessions. Scenes like this would elicit help from them for about a day and a half. Then they would forget and return to their former ways.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I went on strike. I refused to do any more housework until I started getting some help. This caught everyone's attention. Within a few hours I saw some action. "Boy, Mom really means it this time," was the feeling I was reading from my family. After a few days, I came off my strike, but still refused to do more than my share.

I realized that a permanent solution needed to be found. I didn't like being on strike, because I couldn't stand being in a messy house. And if I kept going on strike all the time, it wouldn't make nearly the impression it had the first time.

Since my kids were finally old enough to discuss a problem and try to work out a solution, I sat them down and asked for their ideas. Through our discussion, I found that they would rather have a chore chart where their allowance was based on the number of chores they completed. They also wanted to be paid weekly, rather than monthly.

I was open to any workable ideas for solving this problem, but it still bothered me to pay my children for doing basic household tasks. While discussing this dilemma with a co-worker of mine, she pointed out that while the money initially motivates the child to do the chore, eventually the child has helped out so often that it actually becomes a habit.

This reasoning began to make sense to me. That, combined with the fact that I was so desperate I was willing to try almost anything, made me decide to give it a shot. I drew up a chore chart for each child and bought some stars. Each kid had four tasks to choose from over the course of the week. Each week I planned to change the tasks to give them some variety. Helping each other was allowed, but only one person got the credit. The amount of their allowance was based on their individual performance. If they helped out a lot, they had the potential to earn far more money than their previous allowance rate. This realization was especially enticing to my eight-year-old.

The first week on the chart was great. I got help around the house in a quantity that I had never seen before, and the kids were thrilled with the amount of allowance they received at the end of the week. Unfortunately, this enthusiasm was very short lived. By the second week they were back to their old pattern of making a mess and assuming Mom would clean it up.

I was on the verge of frustration again, when I suddenly realized my mistakes. For years I had been working to make our lives more cooperative and less competitive. Having just finished the book No Contest: A Case Against Competition by Alfie Kohn, my previous beliefs were confirmed that we can accomplish much more, and get along better, by working cooperatively rather than competitively. My first mistake was that the chart I had made up was definitely competitive. In fact, after the first week my oldest daughter had pointed out how many more stars she had received than her younger sister. My younger daughter gave up even trying, because she felt she would never be able to keep up with her older sister.

My second mistake was limiting my children's freedom of choice. If the tasks I had assigned them were things they didn't like at all, they would decide not to do anything. My third mistake was making the chart too complicated. I had different value amounts for the chores, and on their "daily chores" task, I had lumped six items into one. These were things like brushing teeth, being helpful, making your bed, etc. If they didn't do all of them, they didn't get credit for any of them.

So I set to work on making the "new, improved" chore chart. Competition had to be eliminated, freedom of choice needed to be expanded, and the whole chart needed to be simplified. The result was one cooperative chart for all three children. There are thirteen tasks to choose from, plus a wildcard task that can be anything else they come up with that's helpful. When a chore is completed by any one of them, or any combination of two or three of them, they get one star on their chart.

At the end of the week, the stars are counted, multiplied by ten cents per star and divided by three. My oldest daughter does the math each Thursday night. They each get the same amount of money on their allowance "payday," and that amount is based on the results of their combined efforts.

The only concern I had regarding this type of a chart was if one or two children ended up doing all the work and the remaining child(ren) didn't help at all. I soon realized, however, that the hardworking child had a choice. She could either give up and abandon her allowance, or she could learn how to elicit cooperation from her siblings. As it turns out, we have not had a problem with this at all.

After two months on the coooperative chore chart, our whole family has deemed it a success. Rather than worrying about whose chore it is and who will get the star, my kids will work together to set the table, do the dishes, or bring the laundry downstairs. They put stars on their chart together, count their stars together, and share equally in their earnings at the end of the week. They still have disagreements, but these have actually lessened since we started this new system. There is much more teamowrk and cooperation taking place in our house than I have ever seen before. After seeing this chart in action, I see now that there is a sense of fairness that comes from being compensated for the effort you put forth. It's also nice to have your achievements acknowledged.

The final selling point for this new system came when I recently asked my daughter to empty the dishwasher. Without so much as a word of complaint, she bounced into the kitchen, opened the dishwasher, and began putting away the dishes. After a minute or two, she paused and asked, "Do I get a star for this?" "Of course you do!" I said. The fact that the star didn't cross her mind until she had already begun working convinced me that my co-worker had been right. To respond positively to a request for help with a household chore was already becoming a habit.

This article was originally published November 1993 in SLO County Parent newspaper.