No one is lazy
Who knows how exhausted this parent was or how many flights he and his toddler had been on that day.
However, it’s likely that he was no more exhausted than any other parent of a toddler. Jet lag is a relatively minor inconvenience compared to the intensity of life with a tiny, strong-willed person who wants to do everything.
The two of them were sitting together on the plane when he went to unzip her jacket.
“NO!” she said loudly. “ME DO!”
It’s hilarious in its predictability, the way toddlers follow the script of being a person. We humans want autonomy, self-expression, and growth. These desires are fundamental and irrepressible. Without them, we would not learn to walk and talk — or much of anything else.
So if a two-year-old is passionate about pouring her own juice, putting on her own clothes, helping in the kitchen, folding clothes, and raking the yard, and a four-year-old is obsessed with numbers, letters, animals, maps, crafts and gadgets, what happens?
How do we end up with ten-year-olds who hate school, won’t do anything around the house, and want to quit soccer? Who seem to eschew growth?
My theory is that at some point (anywhere between kindergarten and sixth grade), children lose their autonomy as learners. They become overwhelmed by the pressure of what’s being asked of them. They have no room to seek opportunities for growth and self-expression — instead, they have to navigate the expectations of others.
Rather than naturally calibrating their level of engagement to their level of skill and interest, they have to pay attention on someone else’s timetable.
They can’t quit when they become bored — instead, they must pursue a task past the point of frustration.
When something is too difficult or too repetitive to be fun and interesting, they have to do it anyway.
As a result, children shut down. They exercise their autonomy by refusing anything they can.
Some kids do this rarely or never. Others do it all the time. Some do it only at school. Others do it only at home. Some do it everywhere.
If you balk at doing what you’re supposed to do, you will be called out for your lazy behavior. If it becomes a pattern, now it’s not just your behavior that’s lazy — you are lazy.
Laziness isn’t the natural state of humans. Yes, human beings love to create innovations that allow them to be more efficient, but that’s because we crave autonomy, self-expression, and growth. We enjoy our rest, but we also enjoy challenging ourselves, connecting with others, and solving interesting problems. When someone wants to spend all their time sitting around doing nothing, something is wrong. No one is inherently lazy.
That’s not to suggest that changing a pattern of lazy behavior is easy. Our habits are hard to break, and the identities we establish for ourselves can be devilishly difficult to shift. No, we can’t wave a magic wand and magically make someone “not lazy.” But it’s important for all of us — teachers, parents, coaches, and the lazy person himself — to realize that laziness is not a permanent state of being or a fundamental character flaw someone was born with. Once upon a time, each of us was just like the little girl on the plane shouting, “ME DO!” It is possible to find that drive again.
It is uncomfortable for some of us to respond compassionately to laziness. We have been trained to see it as a character flaw, and we fear that it will only get worse if we “indulge it” by being gentle or understanding. However, combating lazy behavior by labeling it (“I’m so sick of this lazy attitude! You do nothing around here!”) only compounds the shame, lack of autonomy, and frustration driving the behavior, reinforcing it. There’s no space for the person to change — or to want to.
However, my experience has been that students really do respond to someone who is genuinely seeing the best in them. When an adult conveys, through their words and actions, "I understand that your reluctant behavior is happening for a reason, and it is not who you are," it will build trust. Over time, the student’s behavior will shift. We have made space for the person to change and grow.
If we can practice seeing laziness, whether our own or others’, as a temporary reaction to overwhelm or lack of choices, we can move toward more cooperative, harmonious relationships in the home, and we can and solve underlying problems at school. No one is truly lazy, and everyone’s natural state is one of growth.