Through my professional career as an Emergency Room nurse I have been provided the opportunity to care for some of the nation's wealthiest and poorest patients with nothing separating them but a hospital room curtain. I've cared for people that live in multi-million dollar homes, have multiple degrees and accolades, and hold high profile jobs. Patient's that drive expensive cars, have multiple au pairs to care for their children, have housekeepers, private chefs, dog walkers, take lavish vacations and travel by private jets. Patients who have private concierge physicians, see multiple specialists, have access to medications and expensive clinical trials, and who have droves of family and friends at their bedside and yet still find something to complain about.
I've cared for people who are homeless and literally sleep on the sidewalk, on park benches, under bridges, and in ATM vestibules. People who have no personal belongings, no clothing, no shoes, no food, and no where to return to. People who have no health insurance, no primary care doctor, no access to specialists, no access to medications, and no follow up. I've cared for homeless mothers and their children who live in hotel shelters, who can't provide their babies' milk as they have no access to a refrigerator and no where to store it. I've cared for children who arrive by ambulance to the emergency room for a simple fever because their parents do not have access to a car, and lack the ability to access basic medical care for their child. I've had very sick patients with potentially lethal diagnosis leave against medical advice at 4 am because they have to be at work in a hour, and risk losing their job and their housing for their families. I've cared for patients who have literally nothing, no family or friends left to call for help, no visitors and seemingly no hope, who are the most appreciative of not only your care, but of your time.
Although it seems impossible to compare the two extremes, when laying in a hospital gown on a stretcher, we are all more alike than different. For me, it doesn't matter what socioeconomic class you come from, what car you drive, or where you live, the treatment and care is the same. Sometimes I think we spend more time caring for the illness, than for the person behind the diagnosis.
I think it's easy to stay in our lane, in our communities, and in our comfort zone and not look outside of our normal. But, how have we come to a place where it has been normalized for a 10 year old to get a new IPhone for Christmas, when another 10 year old isn't sure if there will be food in the fridge or in the cabinets that day, or even that week? How can we make our children appreciate going outside to play, when other children live in such violent neighborhoods that being outside in the wrong place at the wrong time could quite literally cost them their lives? How can we make our children who are asking for the next designer basketball sneakers to be appreciative for simply having clean appropriate sized clothing and shoes that fit? How do we make our children understand when parents have to miss a game or event because they work off shift to provide for their family, that some parents are unemployed, or aren't present at all? How do we make our children appreciate stable housing, heat, running water, and food, when some families do not have a kitchen to cook in, a table to sit at, or a family to eat with? Although I'm thankful our children have never had to worry about any of their basic needs, I want them to be appreciative of what they have, but more importantly be aware of what other's don't.
When I ask them to put their dishes in the sink, pick up their clothes off the floor, or help bring the groceries in from the car I often get a "it's not mine!" or "I didn't do that!", or "it's cold outside, can't you bring them in?". I'll respond with something like, "they're not mine either, but that's not what I asked", or "that's funny, I didn't know this food was only for me." When they give me grief for missing a practice or a game, and a "why do you have to work tonight!?" I remind them of the importance of working hard to support yourself and your family, and to be thankful for the opportunities they have been given. I remind them that they in fact have a house, heat, running water, food in their kitchen, cars to go places, access to education, and are healthy.
But beyond material things and basic needs, I want them to be appreciative of people and their time. I want them to be appreciative of their grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins who spend time with them, attend their events, tell them stories, and make them cookies after school. I want them to be appreciative of their friends who cheer for them and their successes, offer a hand when they fail, and laugh along side them. I want them to appreciate the wonderful small community we live in, and the way it often comes together to support those in triumph and in tragedy. I want them to appreciate the benefits of hard work and perseverance, and really feel what it is to be successful. I want them to appreciate a perfect sunset at the beach, the smell of brownies in the oven, and the quiet after a snow storm.
Although it often comes with a sigh or an eye roll, and although I don't think they will even fully understand what they have, I have to think I'm making some progress in trying to teach them how to be appreciative. Being appreciative is not hard and it doesn't cost anything, but it is a continual learning process. Teaching kids to be appreciative is less about teaching kids what they have, and more about teaching kids what others don't. We have to look up at the world around us, teach our kids to look out the window of their lives, and appreciate who and what they have, because even those who have absolutely NOTHING have been found to be appreciative.
