On Chores and Raising Independent Humans

I live in a suburb where we don’t clean our own houses or take care of our own yards. Here in coastal Southern California, if you have a pool, you have a pool service.

I recently attended a lecture by Julie Lythcott-Haims, author of the bestselling book How to Raise an Adult, put on by a local school district.

Lythcott-Haims didn’t set out to write a parenting book. She’s a lawyer, raising two teenagers with her husband in Palo Alto, and a former dean of freshmen at Stanford University. For ten years, her job gave her a front row seat to the college integration of the “teacup” or “orchid” kids. Each class that came through was, on paper, more accomplished than the year before, yet each subsequent class struggled more with the transition to independence. Much of this adjustment difficulty, according to her well-researched book, is due to the negative impacts of helicopter, drone, or curling (Canada) parenting.

One of my biggest takeaways from her lecture was that kids who do chores find more success in life.

“If kids aren’t doing the dishes, it means someone else is doing that for them,” Lythcott-Haims, said during her lecture. “They’re absolved of not only the work but of learning that work has to be done and that each one of us must contribute for the betterment of the whole.”

It’s not just about contributing; it’s about life skills. The thankless, monotonous household chores from vacuuming to cooking, from lawncare to self-care—these things are, eventually, required of each and every one of us, no matter our socioeconomic background.

Yet here in sunny Southern California, there are legions of hardworking strangers doing the chores in our homes and backyards.

Our local elementary school incorporates a gardening program into the school day. We live in an area where we can grow fruits and vegetables in our backyard, year round. So while most of us don’t care for our own gardens, we pay (extra) for someone to teach our children gardening at school.

How’s that for irony?

So why don’t we give our kids chores?

One reason is because we’re trying to help them achieve success in school.

Can’t unload the dishwasher, Mom. I have to practice piano.

I can’t set the table, Mom—homework.

Another is that we’re too afraid.

My kid is thirteen; he can’t possibly mow the lawn. It’s too dangerous.

My ten year old shouldn’t be exposed to toxic toilet bowl cleaner.

Things haven’t changed that much since I started mowing my parents’ quarter acre in sixth grade. Lawn mowers, stoves, washers and dryers, housecleaning chemicals, require us to teach our kids how to use the equipment effectively and safely– how well I know this!

As a paramedic two decades ago, I ran a call where a teenager wearing Birkenstocks (!) mowed off his big toe. We found it, doctors reattached it, and our crew got a nice thank-you letter in our employee files.

But I’m too much my Depression-era Dad’s kid to feel comfortable watching my nine-year-old daughter do math while a middle-aged woman who isn’t me cleans our bedrooms, kitchen, and toilets.

A Braun study tells us that children who do chores and contribute to the household have higher self-esteem, are more responsible, and are better able to deal with frustration and delay gratification, all of which contribute to greater success in school.

And, Marty Rossman’s research goes even further. It demonstrates that “the best predictor of young adults’ success in their mid-20s was that they participated in household tasks when they were three or four.”

Then there’s the practical benefit. If we don’t teach these basic tasks in childhood, are we impeding our childrens’ ability to be functioning, healthy, independent teens and adults? It was this impairment Lythcott-Haims witnessed at Stanford, which inspired her to research and write her book on “over parenting.”

Most of the high-school age babysitters I hire don’t know how to prepare a meal. They don’t clean up the kitchen after serving the Easy Mac n Cheese and hot dogs I’ve left for them to microwave, and they don’t ask my kids to clean up their toys before I arrive home. There are exceptions, but even finding a young babysitter where I live is incredibly difficult. These teens are scheduled. Neither they nor their parents value the work of watching someone’s kids, mowing lawns, or working retail the way they value sports practice, homework, or extracurricular activities.

“And why is that?” a parent asks Julie Lythcott-Haims not without rancor, during the question and answer session at the seminar. “Could it be because Stanford and other colleges value GPAs and test scores over everything else, including work experience, when making admissions decisions?”

“Yes,” Lythcott-Haims acknowledged. “Our college admissions system contributes to the problem.”

But ultimately, it’s our job as parents to guide our kids and determine priorities based on many factors, not solely admission to what US News and World Report deems a “best college” down the road.

The data is in. Requiring our children to do housework, yard work, wash cars, hold jobs, is good for them. Good for their character, self-esteem, and mental well-being. Good for their future relationships with roommates and spouses.

The Lythcott-Haims book and seminar was a wake-up call for my family. From now on, our kids will have weekly chores to complete, inside and out.

Heck, maybe my fourth grader can teach me something about gardening.



Rachel Sweigart is a midlist author of contemporary fiction, mother of two and writing coach at Essay Nirvana. After graduating from the University of California, Santa Barbara, she worked in public safety and medical research before finding her bliss writing and helping others tell their stories.