"Do you ever push the button?" No answer. "Can you push the button?" It is a real question. I'm not even sure she can reach it. She's not sure it is okay to respond to the man in the elevator talking to her. We both look to her mum who nods affirmatively, "Would you like to push the button?" I step back. "What floor?" Mum answers, "P1" I point to the button and give room.
This is important.
Vitally important. Who pushes buttons is important. Especially when it comes to children. Training and all that, you know, courtesy, power and such. And everybody is so pleased when it works out right. In an odd way Mum knows she's not alone in a dangerous city raising a child among strangers, all threats, in an uncaring world, a child sees not all tall men are meanies, and finally the proper buttons get pushed and there is no confusion as to floors.
"This one is for me and the next one is for you." And Mum doesn't have to explain everything. She smiles as I step off. And not just a regular smile either, an appreciative smile, the warm kind, not the perfunctory kind.
5 comments:
Oh no - I don't touch the buttons. All know that I expect them to do that menial work for me, and they know better than to bother me asking what floor I want. They just push it, and they better get it right or I open up a can of whoop ass right there. That's just the way I was raised.
What's missing here is having two young children very close in age, so close in development as to be indistinguishable. Then, such mundane events such who gets to push the elevator button become a competition. "Fairness" is intensely monitored to the point that everything is meted in half.
Both fingers push the button at exactly the same time.
It's also important on the level of teaching the child agency. Which is a fancy word for "I can do that." Doesn't happen without practice. So yes, it's very important that you gave the child practice in being capable, not helpless.
It's so sweet how little ones get the biggest thrill from the mundane. Dusting, breaking open an egg, washing a window. Thanks for the sweet story, Chip.
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