to receive is to give

I remember saying at one point that I am never happier than when I am stirring a big pot of spaghetti. Aside from my fantasy of having hundreds of grandchildren, I was alluding to something bigger – that for me, the greatest satisfaction is found in taking care of other people. For this reason I love younger sisters, working at summer camp, and cooking in the Oberlin co-ops, and dislike hotels, restaurants, and spas.

A wise friend told me last year, when I was having trouble staying out of the kitchen, to imagine the joy I get out of cooking for others, and then allow them the opportunity to find that same joy. At the time, I heard him, but still bounced in my seat – anxious at the idea of sitting idle while someone else made my dinner. So in effect, I didn’t really hear him.

I used to think that being cooperative merely meant doing things for other people. And I was good at that – as a member of the Oberlin co-ops, I did my fair share and then some. Which, I should note, is important – part of being cooperative is doing more than your fair share sometimes. But the distinction I never made was between “sometimes” and “always” – there is a difference between picking up slack, and regularly pulling more than your own weight. Lately I’ve come to realize that being cooperative is just as much about letting others take care of you as it is about taking care of them.

Being at Sólheimar for two weeks – especially spending time with adults with special needs – has helped me realize the importance of stepping aside. The home people, as we call them here, are some of the sweetest, most loving people I’ve ever met. They exude a warmth that is contagious, and they aren’t afraid to kiss strangers. While generosity and trust are traits carried by many individuals with special needs, they are especially prevalent here in Sólheimar. Talking with Karin, one of our program leaders, about this yesterday, she pointed out that the home people are treated with respect – they are not merely taken care of, but offered autonomy and the opportunity to work hard. One thing that has become clear to me recently is that the home people are quite intentionally taking care of us students. When Siggi played me songs on his keyboard, when Rósy gave me a pair of fingerless mittens, when Rénir explained the universe – they were all doing their best to make us feel loved, welcome, at home. Though many of them operate on a different level than the rest of us, they are certainly not helpless, and do not want to be treated as such.

In my Social Psychology class last year, we learned that a person likes you more when you ask her/him for small favors. The reason, we were told, is that this person observes her/his own behavior, and assumes that she/he would only be helping you out if she/he actually liked you. To a certain extent, this is probably true – self-observation is a powerful thing. But I think it’s also that people like doing things for other people, and appreciate those who give them that opportunity.

So what I’ve come to is this – that we are hard wired to take care of each other, and to deny someone the chance to do so is to deny her/him a basic human right. As much as to give is to receive, to receive is also to give. Taking care of people is not just doing things for them, but letting them do things for you as well. The irony is that I should have figured this out a while ago; indeed it’s been staring me in the face for quite some time. Since I started college, I have become acutely aware of how fundamental it is to my well-being that I feel useful, productive, needed. It’s the primary reason why I’ve considered, on so many occasions, dropping out of school, and why I feel so much more alive when I’m working at camp. It’s not that I’m working harder or less hard during the summer, but that the work I’m doing benefits other people in a very direct way. There is nothing better for me than the responsibility and satisfaction of keeping seven young children safe, happy, and learning.  This is something I have learned about myself over and over again since becoming an adult (whatever that means) – that teaching and taking care of others = happiness. My enormous miscalculation was in overlooking the fact that other people might also feel that way – that this characteristic might not just be unique to me, but perhaps true of every human person.

Last night, when we invited the whole village over for tea and cookies (which was a blast, by the way), I ended up sitting for a while next to Hanne. Like most of the home people, her English is limited. I realized half way through our “conversation” that I was doing more giving than taking – in my mind, I was doing something nice by sitting and talking with her (could I be more arrogant?). So in addition to answering her basic questions about my name, birthday, and family, I sent the ball to her court, and asked her to teach me some words in Icelandic. Immediately, our interaction felt better, more balanced. Even in small moments, it is possible to open a space for someone to feel needed.

Treat others as you’d like to be treated – simple, right? Sometimes, not so much.

- Shelby